with a breakfast nook
painted blue with vegetable decals;
our black and copper dachshund,
Frankie, holing-up
and when the family drove
the restaurant--Robin Hood--
while Scott and I took turns
holding a pretend rifle,
then shooting a light beam
at a small, pacing “Jap soldier.”
Do I set the scene?
I was then seven,
now seventy-seven
with everyone gone, of course,
Mother and Father, Aunt, Uncle,
and Cousin. My brother survives.
I can’t remember the cereal’s name,
but it was something sweet and crunchy,
Pep, or yes, Krumbles, that’s it!
After school one day at RD White--
lingering playground sounds--
I got off the bus,
with one thing in mind,
ran mostly home, changed
from the school-plaid dress
into jeans
while my sweet Mother was reading,
and found the box up high.
Pulling the Krumbles out
hand over fist,
then shoveling them
into my mouth made me feel
like a successful little thief…
something that would haunt me later.
Imagine my surprise, when
I began to chew that first mouthful!
Making the ugly face,
I spit it out in the sink,
then looked down, and
saw that battlefield of black ants
struggling to survive.
Into the garbage can outside--all!
It was on that day in 1945
just before the war ended,
that I discovered firsthand
how ants under attack
secrete formic acid for defense.
Later on, Scott become a chemist,
while I fell into poetry
how unwittingly I'll never know.
They say what
we eat defines us,
but I think it is
what we remember,
like early stolen kisses
and repeating sounds
--annoying at times--
but always there
in our mind, echoing
as if down a long hall.
4.3.10 Kay Weeks
6 comments:
Oh yes, Krumbles. We certainly ate some strange food in those days. In Hawaii, we were under strict food rations during the war and ate lots of Spam, reconstituted milk (ugh--that is why I hate milk to this day), oleo, which we colored ourselves to make it look like butter, among others. I have blocked out that information in my brain!
Friend in Cambridge, MD
Yes I do.
You write that you are 77. Why?
A friend from CA asked me this. I told him it was called "lying your way to the truth." I am not 77, but thought it was parallel because the experience happened when I was 7, which is also probably not true. Such is memoir...
Of course, the narrator or painter can skew the facts. That is what we do. Otherwise, people can read history books and look at pictures. That is why it is fun being creative--we can create.
Trudy B.
I don't remember that cereal, but probably the wagon train just didn't get that particular kind delivered to South Dakota! (which, as you know, is out in the sticks) Cheerios and Rice Krispies -- that's about it for my memory bank. Wheaties. Grape Nuts. Still around and kicking (and snapping, crackling and popping!).
KO from Redmond, WA
Kay... what a charming, original BLOG. I intend to read this one several times so I don't miss anything. Your blog features would make a nifty book...
Trudy J. Sundberg
Whidbey Island, WA
Thank you for the Blessing!
Captain Crunch, Frosted Cornflakes, The Jetsuns, Dennis The Menace, The Flintstones, etc.
Wonderful to cross the generations and to remember and share through all times...I enjoyed this posting and knowing of the experiences, thoughts, the recollections...
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