my father was a fighter
he had the scars to prove it
but the toughest person i know
was my grandmother
she and her sister lived alone
surviving by washing, ironing, sewing for others
using fire heated washing kettles
irons warmed on the stove
one day a nest of yellow jackets was found
in a porch corner above the swing
my grandmother rolled newspaper
into a makeshift torch
lit it with a kitchen match
marched up and burned the evil little bastards
the smoking nest fell to the boards
grandma stamped it flat
then kicked it into the roses
she smiled at me
then went inside back to her work
i think she was a zen master
sounds like my grandma. I admire this strong piece of writing.
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your grandma must have also been a good and strong person. thank you. i have a couple of additional pieces about her too.
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She sounds like a zen master. I loved how she kicked it into the roses. Awesome😊
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Thanks. She was more awesome than I knew. With age sometimes comes understanding. There are fundamental lessons in that episode with the wasps which I think I internalized but only now am beginning to know what they were and mean. Regards.
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Aw! Wisdom, it does have its moments. And it’s even better when we recognize it😊
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