Tag Archives: grumble

Berry

Berry: (n) a small roundish juicy fruit without a stone.

Dictionary B

I find it mentally erotic to allow each of the words that I write about every day to leap into my memory and drag out the stories.

The word “berry” has two significant meanings to me.

First of all, I love berries. They are something I can eat without guilt, even though they tell me it is possible to consume too many.

I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten a berry I did not like. Some berries do grumble my stomach a bit, but that doesn’t keep me from enduring the growl.

But I also have a memory of berries which is less satisfying–maybe just a little bit frustrating.

When I first got married, my wife and I were very poor. To complicate our poverty, we were also lazy. The two don’t work well together, for when they arrive at the same time, they can leave you really hungering and thirsting.

My parents had a small parcel of land outside of town–a farm which had some blackberry bushes. (I think they’re called bushes. Maybe they’re vines, but I’m too lazy to look it up.)

My wife and I had the brilliant idea of going out, picking blackberries, and selling them door to door. It was not going to guarantee us a lot of money, but it would definitely succeed in buying a loaf of bread, some bologna or even the more coveted peanut butter and jelly.

It was an arduous task.

The berries are small, so it takes a lot of them to fill up a container. We got hot, stung by bugs and poked by thorns. It was not what I would call pleasant, even though we rejoiced in the opportunity and turned it into a lark.

We picked for about three hours and got seven little baskets, which we sold for fifty cents apiece. It was a long time ago, but that still was a good deal.

We were so overjoyed over the process that we decided to do it again two or three days later, but when we went back to the houses to sell our berries, the customers began to complain about twigs in the baskets, and the fact that some of the berries weren’t quite ripe.

Suddenly we had become a $3.50 corporation, which apparently needed a customer relations department. It took a lot of joy out of the experience. One lady even demanded that we return a quarter as a refund.

So as I sit and enjoy my berries topped with a little Cool Whip, I am grateful for those souls who have to pick them … being careful never to complain if I discover a twig.

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Austere

Austere: (adj) severe or strict in manner, attitude, or appearance.

I call it the “Granble Face.”dictionary with letter A

It’s that look blending the countenance of Grandma or Grandpa with the attitude to grumble.

Somewhere along the line, we gave up on the idea of giggling, smirking, laughing and running around looking for ways to be mischievous.

Maybe it’s because it finally registered in our brain that our parents wanted us to be as miserable as they were, and we feel the responsibility to honor our father and mother so that our days might be long and filled with anguish on the Earth.

I don’t know.

But I do know this–the austere facial expression that greets me daily as I look at my peers and fellow-humans leaves me caught between despair and hilarity.

They look so funny trying to be so grownup, and they tend to get so angry with me because I maintain my childish chortle.

  • What is the power of being austere?
  • Why are we supposed to be quiet when we enter a church or a funeral home? Is it really going to bother the dead?
  • Why is it necessary to sit in traffic, roll down your window to save on air conditioning, and sweat and curse at the holdup? Why not just turn up the radio and rock out to Queen?

Austere is the profile that proves we’ve had enough birthdays to be defeated.

It is the universal complexion of those of any color who have reached a certain status, where despondency is a badge of honor.

It is often accompanied by words like mature, holy, focused and adult.

Even though we were told for our spiritual journey it’s best for us to “become as little children,” we would rather develop the “Granble Face” …Grandpa grumbling about the price hike on his medication.

 

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Agnostic

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Agnostic: (n) a person who believes that nothing is known or can be known of the existence of nature of God and has neither faith nor disbelief in God.

“Can’t decide.”

I’m sorry. I just have a real problem with people who can’t land on a decision. Sometimes you’ll turn to ’em and ask ’em what they want to eat for dinner.

“I don’t care. Anything’s fine.”

Here’s the problem. On the first occasion you believe them. So you make Sloppy Joe with corn chips and apple slices. Then you notice they pick at the food and seem to have little appetite. If you dig deeper, you discover they were disappointed in the choice you made for them–when they refused to make one for themselves.

Alas, we have found the truth, have we not? Everyone does have an opinion, whether they speak it aloud or hold it within.

Those who decide to build a cave in which to harbor their thoughts only choose to do so in order to grumble at you from their dark place.

Thus the agnostic.

Facts are, if the only thing afforded me was organized religion and the existing spiritual circus which collects offerings and possesses land, I would probably be an agnostic or even an atheist. I would place myself in that no-man’s land because I object to the options provided. In a cowardly way, I would hide behind the inefficiency of the organization and pretend it truly represented God,

But that’s not what I do. I have decided to believe.

  • I do not believe in the God of the Jews. Too much wandering in the wilderness.
  • I do not think the God of the Christians has anything to do with real life.
  • The multiplicity of the Hindi gods only perplex me.
  • The absence of a god in Buddhism is a proclamation of self-righteousness that boggles my mind.
  • And the God of the Muslims at times seems to get up on the wrong side of His heavenly bed.

My God is the reality that I need a God.

I need someone to remind me that my humanity is more ingenious than “monkey.” I need a companion who helps to explain why goodness does come, through effort, while evil always tends to be the lazy choice.

Agnosticism is the fear of deciding. It is sloth–one of the seven deadly sins—fatal because it keeps us the victim instead of pursuing the possible victory.