privacy notice

'cookieOptions = {my site gathers info, I am told. I do not know how to access the info. You can visit to see what Google does with info. As I do not have advertising on my blog, I am not certain if Google gets much information from my blog.}

Sunday, November 30, 2014


Carpe Diem #614, 

herb ladened scents -
floating in one's family love
earthly paradise

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Saturday, November 29, 2014

"a wild boar plays the organ"

Carpe Diem Special #119, 
Tomas Tranströmer's 5th 
"a wild boar plays the organ"

The complete text for the inspiration of the writing challenge can be found here.

then the leaves whispered:
a wild boar plays the organ.
and the bells all rang

© Tomas Tranströmer

what a sadness
artificial Nightingale's broken -
faraway birdsong

© Chèvrefeuille

stars blinking in time
deer frolic in a circle
hunt season closed!

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


dream in a dream

Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #61,
 Georgia's "a dream in a dream"

The challenge is to complete a haiku to make it a Tan Renga.  Okay, a lot of folks that drop by my blog may scratch their head wondering what the hey is going on with her?  What is all this haiku, tan renga, blah, blah Japanese blah stuff?  It is a form of poetry.  I am doing what so many of my friends and family have told me I should do ... write ....  the stories ... the crazy thoughts you have.  The haiku form of poetry speaks to my sense of living big in a very small way.  Compressed beauty.  If you want to know more you can read about it all here.

The following Tan Renga was written in two parts with the authors names noted by each.

a dream in a dream
sand slipping through old fingers
autumn leaves turn red   (Georgia)

blown away on the shoulder of the wind
delusory hopes caught in sand     (Chèvrefeuille)

As I read the verses my mind went to two things.  First Cass Elliot's version of Dream a Little Dream back in 1968 after the Mamas and Papas group broke apart.  Second was my Mom's loss of the sight in one eye on Thanksgiving Day a result of an inflammation in the temporal arteries.  She will be permanently blind in that eye.  Mom, who is 96. was visiting my 74 year old sister in another state.  My younger sis was spending Thanksgiving with us and her son.  The sister in Oklahoma had to take Mom to the emergency room on Friday, drive to Texas the next morning for a meeting with Mom's eye doctor.  Then Mom was put in the hospital for the beginning of treatments to hopefully save the sight in the second eye.  Mom's last remaining dream is to have sight.

Younger sister cut short her visit this morning to drive from Austin to the Dallas area to resume being the primary caregiver to our Mom.  The baton was returned to Sis and our older sister returned to Oklahoma to prepare for the funeral of her son's step daughter in law  The step daughter in law had taken her own life last Wednesday.  A young woman, she left behind two children.  She had chosen to no longer live rather than face a life void of hopes and dreams.

a dream in a dream
sand slipping through old fingers
autumn leaves turn red   (Georgia)

life drains from hopeless eyes
light seen only in dreams now (Janice)

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Carpe Diem #613, 

Post for the challenge of solace can be found here.

smooth touch of velvet
her soft white skin, her blond hair, 
my Golden Retriever

© Chèvrefeuille

solitaire -
wrapped in his jacket she plays
aroma's solace
©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


the cold within the sound

 Carpe Diem Ghost Writer #35,
The Cold within the Sound:  Otagaki Rengetsu

Inspiration for this post was written by Jen.  In her essay Jen acquaints the reader with Otagaki Rengetsu.  Please, click here to read all of the post on this most wonderful haiku writer.

frost-withered arrowroot
vying hailstones—
the cold within the sound.

Otagaki Rengetsu (1791-1895)

Here is Jen's attempt to write in the same spirit as Rengetsu’s waka:

daggers of sleet – 
this sharp sound
cut sideways

"I (Jen) like this haiku but it’s definitely not in the same tone.  Perhaps a tanka would be closer?

this November sleet – 
it shreds the birch leaves 
in the dead grass – 
a sharp sound, cut sideways
tossed to the hungry wind

Where does Rengetsu’s “cold within the sound” lead you? "... Jen of Blog it or Lose it

encased in ice -
tree limbs drooping in arcs -
- cracking cold wood

cracking cold wood -
transformer's fiery sparks falling
broken power lines

broken power lines
darkness fills the frozen air
encased in ice -

encased in ice
trees sparkling in the sun
shivering limbs snap

fight the cold
shattered by
the splitting oak

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Monday, November 24, 2014


Carpe Diem "Time Glass" 
a time challenging feature #11, 

Inspiration photo and word:

source:  Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

Eighteen hours to write a stirring haiku is one of today's challenges.  Purchase supplies for the upcoming Thanksgiving festivities spread over about 3 or 4 days.  Reserve the three wheelchairs for the following weekend's activities.  Help with a move the best we can.  Prepare for a much anticipated guest in early December.  Working to accomplish all this in a pleasant manner at this moment feels impossible. As impossible as reaching the pot of gold sitting at the end of the rainbow.

ancient promises
slip from the grasp of humans
golden dreams
©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Sunday, November 23, 2014

Blowing In The Wind

Carpe Diem #611, 
spirit of the wind

The wail of the warning sirens awakens the senses.  A peek out the front door confirms the approaching storm clouds.  Gather all that is important and take cover.  Quickly.  In a tub with heads covered by blankets families protect their young.  In basements with heads covered, young and old huddle in fear.  As the walls shudder the air is filled with the sounds of breaking glass and wood.  The suction pulls at the arms of the mother desperately holding onto her child.  As suddenly as it came it is gone.  Leaving a path of brokenness.

sylphs wildly dance
in frolicsome circles -
collateral winds

©  Janice Adcock

The Midwest of the U.S. is nicknamed Tornado Alley.  One swath of land near my in-laws home was hit twice within a three year period.  We lived 25 miles to the east.  The tornadoes danced past us, too.  A ledger page from the 25 miles away location with the names of folks we knew fell in our yard.  Some of the damaged homes were just left to rot the second time they were hit.  Maybe you can glimpse a Sylph dancing a little to much in this video of the 2003 twister.

This video was filmed on a road we traveled when going to visit my in-
laws.  It was filmed by the local weatherman, Ted Keller.  It was in this area the ledger page we found was sucked into the boiling clouds.

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Saturday, November 22, 2014


Carpe Diem #610, 
 (2nd Vision Quest, 3rd day)

Inspiration and additional posts can be seen here.

Our final day ...
in search of our inner beauty

© Chèvrefeuille

anger filled heart freed
neither hate nor malice -
suspended in love

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Friday, November 21, 2014


Information, inspiration and many poets can be found here.

At dusk the harvest moon
paints a pine-tree
against the blue

© Ransetsu

one last row to cut
dusk overtakes the harvest
worker sighs relief

©  Janice Adcock


Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 



Carpe Diem
 "Sparkling Stars" #13, " "

the childless woman,
how tender she is
to the dolls!

© Ransetsu (Tr. Blyth)

The words fell hard on them, "You will probably never conceive.  "Chances are one in a.."  A mind numbing number was all they heard.  Each clung to the other's hand.  Looking at a dreamed of family evaporate before them.  A ghost family.  A family never to be.  Wombs to carry and breasts to nourish laying fallow as a drought stricken field.

clouds move overhead
no crops for harvest this year
empty rain guage

©  Janice Adcock
Photograph by Matt Black for Matter

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 



Carpe Diem #609, 
 (2nd Vision Quest, day 1)
©  Janice Adcock
Self hypnosis is a technic taught to persons with chronic pain.  Body resting in a chair, bed or anywhere comfortable.  Scented aromas and music can add to the atmosphere.  Eyes closed.  Breathe in slowly, breathe out even more slowly.  Thoughts focused on this deep breathing.  Let your mind drift to a place where you are safe and at peace.  Begin to let the tension flow out of your head with each breath.  Move down your body breathing in comfort and breathing out the tension and pain.  Feel the muscles of the heart and lungs as they relax into a blissful resting state.  Let oneself feel the pleasure of this moment.  Feel the escape from pain, sadness and worry.  Bask in the beauty of this freedom.  Of the soul's release into another dimension of creation.  At the end of the next song slowly return from your vision quest with a renewed body and soul.  Slowly open your eyes to ...... the changed you.

deep, slow breathing -
soul flies over the valley
blessed escape!

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


first snow

source: Carpe Diem Kaiku Kai
Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge #60, 

©  Janice Adcock

bright autumn moon
bare branches moving like arms -
the first snow

© Yozakura

snowflakes sprinkled on the logs
my loves hands stoking the fire

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 



Carpe Diem Special #118, 
Tomas Tranströmer's fourth
 "in time with the moon" 
(Vision Quest day 2)

source:  Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

Inspirational haiku:

and the night streams in
from east to west, traveling
in time with the moon

© Tomas Tranströmer

source:  Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

hammock's soft swaying
dreaming in the moonlight -
time traveler sleeps

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Thursday, November 20, 2014

Mountain Music

Living in the Ozark hills of Missouri means a sort of hillbilly and country music atmosphere to our life.  Folks play mandolins, guitars, banjos, fiddles and hammer dulcimers.  Elegant instruments that could be constructed by the settlers in area during the 1800's.  Simple tunes to entertain during the cold winters.  Music to set folks feet to doing a jig.  Local craftsmen still offer these handmade items for sale in shops.

My husband's family has lived in the Ozarks Plateau area since the 1870's.  The family roots were all bound to the earth, all farmers.  Farmers with a penchant for music.  The generation born in the 1900's to Perry and Edith, 8 total, 7 surviving to adulthood, all played music.  This was not 'high tone' music but the simple rhythms of mountain music.  The family hosted frequent gatherings at the home.  The sparse furniture in the two downstairs rooms would be moved to make room for folks to dance.

These two performed on radio.
Two of the sisters performed on the KWTO.  This radio station had live performers to entertain its listeners. The Springfield area played an important roll in the evolution of the country music industry.  The Ozarks Jubilee was on another station KTTS television.  The program had such names as Eddy Arnold, Patsy Cline, Marty Robbins, Johnny Cash, Jim Reeves, etc.  Basically the list includes all the 'big names' of country music from 1955 through 1960.  The area was enough of a mecca that one guy, Willie Nelson, bused tables at Aunt Martha's Pancake House while attempting to catch a break.  Willie never appeared on the show.

Part of the Adcock clan, circa 1939.
Only the pictures and a few oral stories remain of the family's singing history.  Aunt Lorene's mandolin is the last of all the instruments still to be found.  It is not playable.  Yet others carry on the traditions.  The sounds of the stringed instruments still float across the hills during summer gatherings and fall festivals. Mountain folks playing mountain music.

mountain man hands -
plane glides across the oak planks
building a song

©  Janice Adcock

Looks like they would rather have been playing some jigs instead of getting 'all dressed up'.

Submitted to Ligo Haibun Challenge

Monday, November 17, 2014

Roadside Begger

Carpe Diem #607, 
Road Side Beggar 
(a haiku by Nana Fredua-Agyeman)

Inspiration and additional poems can be found here.

With the cold weather there seems to be more people standing at certain intersections.  More than a few work in groups.  Taking turns huddling in a group at the top of the overpass.  The red traffic signal is a green light for one of  the folks to walk along the line of cars.  Usually the person is holding a sign asking for the needs of the day, food or money.  It is interesting to see the different responses.  Some folks have packages ready to hand out the window.  Others will avert their eyes to avoid the contact.  Other folks hand some cash out the window.  Saw a person hand a tee shirt to the person.  I vacillate between each of these scenarios.  Bottled water is good especially in the summer.

The begging is so prevalent in some areas it has almost become a competition.  On man was juggling balls. There were some of the folks singing.  One was playing a horn.  Competitive begging.

life needs written on cardboard
looking for a smile

grass stained jeans
scruffy beard and hair
gotta a dollar?

gated community
veteran walks by the fence
empty birdfeeders
©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Saturday, November 15, 2014


After a week with a chest cold it was nice to not go and sit in the rain to watch a soccer game.  Of course that means son and three grandsons are on a Scout outing in the rain.  In the chilly rain in the mid 40's.  And it is not going to get better soon.  That is what Son is doing after being in Europe on business since last Sunday.  Returned home late Friday afternoon.  Not sure how he keeps up with this type of schedule.

TCU played the KU Jayhawks this afternoon.  As we are too cheap to even think about a cable subscription especially one that has ESPN, we watched, or at least followed the action, on  It is a cartoon type layout of a football field.  The plays are listed below with arrows, etc showing the location of the balls and possessions.  It works almost as good as listening to a radio, without all the noise.  And Whoot!  TCU pulled out a win over KU Jayhawks this afternoon.  That is the reason for the Whoot!

My husband has the Wisconsin Nebraska game on TV.  Holy cow it looks cold.  The snow is covering everything.  Fourth quarter with about 4 minutes to go, 17 to 59 Wisconsin.  Miserable for the Nebraska team, Most of whom do not have on long sleeves.  And people are still in the stadium, lots of people.  We in the States are a little .... insane over our sports.  At least Nebraska just scored one more TD.  Maybe everyone will get together and build a snowman shaped like a football player at the end.

A Saturday afternoon spent watching college football has been a tradition on and off for us.  For so many years Hubby worked on Saturdays so the tradition was back burnered (not a word).  Our sports fanatic son revived it during his teen years.  He left for college and the tradition again was not a part of my life.  Now, back in Texas where the air if filled with football fever as thick as pollen in spring, the tradition has returned.  Kinda nice to sit and watch Hubby cheer like a teenager for his favorite teams, TCU and Mizzou.

Here is to another great week to all my friends, family and followers that stop by for a visit.  Go Frogs!

"a mother of stone"

The featured poet, Tomas Tranströmer, worked in a juvenile prison in the late 1950's.  He wrote a few haiku during that period.  A couple of these are to be used as inspiration.

Night—a twelve-wheeler
goes by making the dreams of
the inmates shiver

The boy drinks his milk
and sleeps cozy in his cell,
a mother of stone

© Tomas Tranströmer

Our host's beautiful response: 

ten p.m. - lights go out
the inmates dream their dreams -
a heart on the beach

© Chèvrefeuille

In the late 1970's and early 1980's the international women's faith group to which I belonged held a yearly mission study.  During the night called 'Open University' a group of convicts from the Missouri Women's Prison were a part of our education.  A session of hearing stories and backgrounds struck a chord with me.  One of the inmates, a young woman barely 5 feet tall shared she had murdered a man.  She had issues with men in general as a result of years of sexual abuse at the hands of her father.  Ute was open about her sexual orientation.  In prison she had found a love denied her in 'freedom'.

I began correspondence with Ute.  As personal items are not provided in the prison, packages containing soap, hygiene products, stamps and stationary were being shipped to the prison.  A couple of other young women in my local organization joined me in purchasing items for Ute.  I purchased underclothing from a local store owner and shared to whom I was sending the obviously not my size bras.  The store owner, also a member of the same organization, said the inmate was using me.  I told her it was not my responsibility to account for Ute's response, only to live as I felt compelled to do.  The store owner shrugged and rang up the sell.

Eventually I stopped the correspondence with Ute due to time issues.  The image of that young woman will still float through my mind and I wonder where she is.  As for the store owner, she came to my mother in law's funeral last November.  She did not mention Ute.  I still think, "but by the grace of God...."


cold concrete walls -
love finds escape in a touch
from cherished hands

a gentle caress
love flows from the fingertips 
penal institute 

rage finds peace
in the icy iron barred cell
loves healing touch
©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


sweet little snail

Carpe Diem "Little Creatures" #12, 
Snails, a haiga

Inspiration, challenge and other poets work can be seen here.


Gosh, where has all that violence been lurking?  Oh, maybe from my hosta gardening days?  Nothing could be more irritating than the damage caused to my Big Blue by those blasted snails and slugs.  Always hiding under the mass of leaves.  Always sneaking around in the dark.  Never falling into the pan of beer that was supposed to lure them to certain death.  Always come for a picnic and leave the trails of slime.  The taletell holes in the precious leaves.  Well, that was cathartic.  Me thinks I have rid myself of a silent demon!

slowly gliding snail
the rising phoenix grabs -
slime dripping claws
©  Janice Adcock

Just look, you can see the holes in the hosta leaves! Yes, definitely cathartic!
 ©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Friday, November 14, 2014

purple flames

The goal of this challenge is to write a two line 7 syllable continuation of the following haiku:

mystic purple flames
arise from the spirit’s stalks
chill my autumn heart

© Panchali

a heart pierced by the spirit
ignites with passion and fervor

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Carpe Diem #605, 
Hantu Pisang

The Hantu Pisang (Mah Meri) is a beautiful ghost that is supposedly formed when the heart of the banana bud is pierced with a nail attached to a thread.  There is more explanation here as well as haiku in response to the challenge of Hantu Pisang.  I am giving it a swing but who knows, I may strike out.

In the Red Circles you can see Hantu Pisang

old myths hold sway
a slice of toast is Elvis

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 



Inspiration post and challenge with the poetry of Richard Wilbur can be read here.

©  Janice Adcock
spheres floating in space
orbit the red-hot juggler
idolized by all

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Wednesday, November 12, 2014


Carpe Diem #603, 
Mount Fuji

ancient eruptions
belching smoke, ash and brimstone
peaceful Mt. Fuji

the lone monk climbs the lava rocks
spirit winds howl on the peak

seek the sacred
release that fire from within
new snows on Fuji

Oh Ancient One in the clouds
grant your worshipers longings
©  Janice Adcock

For the prompt, wonderful poetry and learning about different cultures click here.

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


Forget Me Not

By the time a person reaches The Golden Years there have been many person crossing one's path.  Each workplace had folks that have been friends and acquaintances.  Childhood, school, college, grad school, organizations, children's friends, etc, etc, etc.....  Then there is the family tree that in my case become spliced into another family tree creating almost a forest of family to love and cherish.

Facebook has allowed re-connection with many folks from the different life phases.  There have been a few connections that have been a real joy.  Others I have been reminded why I chose to drift apart.  I realize there are still some holes left by friends with whom I have no connection.  How do I begin a search?  My OCDC kicks in to need a list.  The following are people I would like to have lunch with just to do some catching up with each other.

Childhood:  Beverly, Becky, Jo Ann.  We attended the same country school and church.  Bev's dad was as hard as my Mom.  Becky's mom and dad worked 'in town', meaning they neither farmed.  Becky's dad would drink and cuss.  My folks cussed but did not drink so Mom sort of turned her nose up at them .. a little.

School:  Next weekend I will be attending a holiday gathering hosted by a high school friend.  As there were only 14 in our class, two have passed away, there is a chance I might see a few of the 10 other graduates. No, one has already said he will be in Ireland, so just 9 possibilities.

Work relationships:  Cleatus, Carol, Flordia, Mike, Nancy.  Three different businesses.  One I could reach through a friend.  Exchanged Christmas cards with Flordia until her address changed.  And now mine has so chances are slim and none.  People that have been influences, roommates, friends and mentors that I would like to thank just one more time.

Organizations:  Faith communities, sorority and community organizations.  Ann, Donna Rea.  Ann will never happen cause her name changed and our lives went in vastly different directions.  Donna Rea in only a phone call away.

Instead of making a list, typing in the dark with a face lite only by the computer screen maybe I should just post this.  Then I'll close the computer screen and give Donna Rea a call.

Spin up your Forget-me-not story any day this week, and then link it up here!

Thanks to The Spin Cycle Host Ginny Marie

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

late autumn

It's time for another GW-post, this is our 33th episode and it's a GW-post written by Jen of Blog It Or Lose It. Her GW-post is about Richard Wright. Richard Wright is a fascinating person.  Please, take time to read more of him by clicking here.

The chill autumn dusk
Grows colder as yellow lights
Come on in skyscrapers.

© Richard Wright

The first autumn snow
gleams blue on the parking lot
under the moonlight.

Next to the gutter
the raked-up pile of leaves
huddles under snow.

© Jen of Blog It or Lose It

cold wind blows leaves near
the feet of the bell ringer
as shoppers rush by

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


One Pecan Tree

Jim Croce's gentle songs are playing in the background as I sort the photos into the stages and ages. Manila folders with dates and events written on the tabs wait for me to choose them.  The sorting of one's life would be like a series of business transactions but for the gentle voice and rhythms of Jim Croce.  His music putting life in the photos as I pick each one up and put into its 'place'.

Gene and John Adcock, circa 1975
The smooth chords from the strings of the guitar stroke my buried sensual self, too.  My mind drifts back to the years of passion, the years of yearning for my husband's touch.  Waiting for the sound of his vehicle pulling into the driveway.  Hiding, unclothed in the closet where he would be hanging his coat.  Waiting breathlessly for the door to open.  The door opens and he says, "You crazy thing, get some clothes on!"  No, really, he did.  Later......, well, that is enough of that.

Still the music does take me back to those years of our early marriage, late 60's, early 70's.  Working together to build a home and a life together.  To build a family together.  Our years of hoping for a baby.  Applying for an adoption that never came because we conceived - just not the "closet day."  Raising our son.  Working and fighting and arguing and making up all rolled into a life together.  A life together that was denied to Jim and Ingrid Croce by a simple mistake and a tree.

It is ironic that this man, Croce, who was finally beginning a successful ascent in his career was killed by an ordinary pecan tree.  One tree the pilot failed to clear or see at the end of a small town airport runway.  The plane was headed to another small town named Sherman, Texas, located about 35 miles from where "the closet" was.  One is left to wonder what other beautiful songs would have come from the heart and mind of Croce.  Songs of the joy about their wonderful son, AJ.  Songs of sorrow for the child lost at birth just weeks before the crash.  More songs to play while I sit and sort photos of my life.  

But for one pecan tree.
Jim and AJ Croce

guitar strings vibrate
music from past decades fills
the emptiness of time
©  Janice Adcock

Monday, November 10, 2014

symbiotic thoughts

Inspiration haiku and prose:

dew fresh mistletoe
her sweet scent warms my heart
my first kiss

© Chèvrefeuille

symbiotic thoughts
hands touch reaching for the door
no, you first they say
©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on 


big bear

Another "Time Glass" episode ... in which you have to respond within 24 hours on a given photo and prompt.

Credits: Grizzly Bear (© Lodges)

This Time Glass episode has Constellation as prompt and the following photo:

ursa major shines
the great bear guides ship rudders
to safe harbors

©  Janice Adcock

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on