War of the Words, again

Confusion reigns/reins

Words are train-cars.  One leads to another.  

Then it blossoms into some other word that confuses the heck out of Third Graders already caught in the web of the Anglo-Saxon confusion.

AND THEN

there is always the homophone dilemma of many other words:

lone/loan; rough/ruff, some/sum. gym/Jim... 

Just some entertainment if you'd like...

Enough of this.  

Can you add to this crazy theme of confusing words?

Can you stare/stair at the bear/bare and spit in its face?

Give it a chance; add to another word train wreck. 

I know I have written a similar post a few years ago, but hey/hay! It is August, it is hot/haute.  There/their are/our to/too many, so/sew many blogs to read/reed, and so little time/thyme.  

This one is for you, Gary!

Stones in a line

San Marcos, CA cemetery 

Surrounded by green

Beneath gnarled olive tree

Three stones.

Old stones—

1920s old.

“Baby” carved in the first stone
.

Below it, “Baby” in the second stone.

At the bottom of the line of three,

“Baby”

Old stones—

Lonely stones.

Forgotten stones.

"Baby."

The Broken Heart(s)

Broken Heart(s

I was alone when I lost the baby. 

I didn’t know for sure that I was pregnant, although I had purchased two home pregnancy testing kits.  The first one said “NO”.

 I was saving the second test for another week.  Back then those tests were not as refined, as precise.

But, I was alone.  My husband and two children were visiting his brother and family.  There was to be a ham dinner, and we were there when I became sick with what I thought was the flu. 

John brought me home, left me there, and went back to his brother’s house.  I didn’t see any need for him to stay home with me.

I had stretched out on the sofa, with a ‘throw-up’ bowl just in case.  The cramps in my abdomen would come and go. 

I know what you’re thinking: why didn’t I recognize the cramps as contractions. 

Both of my children had been delivered by C-section.

After a few hours, I was in such pain, and headed to the bathroom.

You know what came next.  Male or female, no descriptions need to be given.

After all was done, I crept into my bed with a heating pad to home against my empty womb.

I was two minds about the miscarriage.  I started mourning for the baby I would never get to hold.  Yet, I was also glad I wasn’t pregnant, because my son was only 10 months old.

Most of all, I was broken hearted.

I curled up in a ball with the heating pad and a box of tissues.

I started crying. 

Susan Kane

24 February 2011  http://itsinthebookde.blogspot.com