Excerpts fromAll about Eve and Other Thingsby Adelle Bradford A volume of poetry and essays, published December 2005 (ISBN:1-4241-0339-8).
From the serious to the ridiculous and the whimsical to the lyrical, tucked away in these pages you can find essays and poetry to enlighten and entertain, to make you chuckle…or perhaps even weep.
What would you do if you thought the Queen of England might drop in for tea, or have you ever whimsically capered? How many geese in a flock? Or is it a gaggle of geese? Happy songs and sad songs, here is an entertaining book for every mood to read again and again.
Following are excerpts from some of the essays in this book and I hope it may entice you to purchase my books online. Poetry does not display here as it appears to not lend itself well for partial display and reading. A list of these thirty-five (35) poems, however, can be found at one of my USA websites - please click here and some poems are viewable in full at GoogleBooks.
About Eve
I have been thinking, quite a serious endeavor for me, and a sometimes dangerous way to occupy an idle hour or so. I have been thinking about Eve, who, according to the Bible Book of Genesis, was the very first woman ever to exist on this planet. Why was I thinking about her? Because I had just seen a news report on television about a footprint found by an archeologist on a remote, sandy beach in a small cove on the southern tip of the African continent. Now, I am, of course, familiar with the poetical quotation about "footprints in the sands of time", and something about the idea of finding a footprint preserved for more than a million (?) years on a strip of sandy African beach opened new vistas of speculation for me. My first thought? Mental pictures of the shifting, ever-moving sands of the Sahara Desert. Africa - sand - Sahara Desert. Natural enough connection, don't you think? . . . . More at Google Books!
About Looking Askance
Now that I'm a bit older - euphemistically speaking - and have time to ponder, I can see that I have always traveled quite a bit off the beaten path most other people trudge down in their lives. Beginning in childhood, I was "looked at askance" so many times for voicing my personal thoughts and viewpoints about things, I learned to automatically pause after mentioning an opinion, idea, or interest to check the "askance looks". Then, I either ceased or continued depending on the degree of "askanceness" I observed in my immediate vicinity. I still do it, and this activity, in turn, activates my internal censor, clamping a verbal chastity belt on my tongue until I can sort through my mental file box, you know, the one labeled "People I Know and Subjects Safe to Discuss with Each of Them." What follows is a kind of secret double life wherein I carry on two conversations at once, one verbal and appropriate to the person with whom I am speaking, and the other unspoken but just as real in my mind. . . . . More at Google Books!
About Penis Envy
Some Opinions Herein Expressed Are Guaranteed To Make The Author Unpopular With Both Males and Females. Readers Of Any Other Gender May Find It Interesting.
Do you know what? I've been thinking about that "penis-envy" thing...now that does dance around the edge of a very stupid pun, doesn't it? Well, ignore it - if you can - and read on. Don't ask me why I've been thinking about this particular subject because I don't intend to tell you. Anyway, when I think about it, and do so in a fairly objective manner, I can see that I do NOT have the slightest trace of that affliction. For reasons I can probably trace back to a strong "Daddy's Girl" bonding relationship during my first six years (where I no doubt learned, as do most little girls, how easily a male can be controlled and manipulated by a pretty pout and a few tears), and my subsequently unbuffered and unpleasant "training" by and association with my mother, I grew up feeling superior to, smarter than, and somewhat sorry for the male gender. That does not appear to be a fertile breeding ground for growing a crop of penis envy, does it? While I can usually find some cross-linked connection and fairly reasonable explanation for my more unusual thought processes, I can't for the life of me explain why the term 'penis envy' puts me in mind of some unpleasant, creeping, bilious, grayish-green, fungus-type growth, but it does. It sounds like a highly-contagious social disease, or perhaps the leading cause of female impotence? Now there is a subject that needs to be discussed at length...but not right now. However, you might give this question a little thought: Why is male 'frigidity' referred to as 'impotence' instead of being equated with the no doubt male-coined term female 'frigidity'? Don't both terms indicate an inability, for whatever reason, to adequately perform sexually? I think a male invented the term 'penis envy'. . . . . More at Google Books!
About Writing
"Dear Grandma, How are you? I am fine. It is hot here. Is it hot there? We went to the zoo. James broke his arm. Write soon. Love." Remember how proud of yourself you felt when you were finally able to write your first letter in that format? I can remember my first letter! And when you really look at that letter, doesn't it truly get right down to business and make the points clear? . . . .
. . . . In case you are wondering just how I came to write about a letter to Grandma, let me tell you why. Recently, I was thinking about the writing process in general, and that, in turn, led me back down a narrow but distinct path to my early letter-writing experiences, something quite different from learning to write your own name and various spelling words. I do believe that it was at that time I came to full realization that you could actually tell all the lies you wanted, and make up all the stories you wanted in a letter or a note. I got just such a crumpled and stained note saying "I love you," from a little boy when I was in the first grade. He lied. He didn't love me at all. . . . . More at Google Books!
The Color Gray
Most people seem to have a black-and-white mentality. By that I mean things are good or bad, black or white for them, with no thought about the space exactly in the middle between the two. In that space lays the color gray, a mixture of black and white in equal proportions. Whether we realize it or not, in the battle arena we call life, most of our time is spent in one gray area or another. Oh, we don't think so, of course, being firmly convinced by our own perception that we are fundamentally good and always on the right side, the "white side". Take killing a human being for example. . . . . More at Google Books!
In Case The Queen of England Ever Unexpectedly Comes To Visit
This morning I was industriously scrubbing away at a glob of spilled glop on my stainless steel stove top - quite possibly a remnant of leftover Thanksgiving gravy, or some other distasteful reminder of what seemed like a good idea at the time - when a moment of epiphany occurred in my life. I do like that word "epiphany". If you say it a few times, it seems to make fun of its pompous self, coming out with a definite "piffling poof" of sound. Anyway, I had this glorious moment of self-enlightenment wherein I suddenly realized, for as long as I can remember, which is quite a long time, I have been doing housework with the rather grim face of the Queen of England looking over my shoulder supervising and passing judgment the job. No, I haven't really gone all the way around the mental bend, and I can't be more than a few bricks shy of a whole load...at least I don't think so. . . . . More at Google Books!
Patterns
I have always looked upon myself as a very ordinary person. I lived my life according to the rules I was taught. I was a properly obedient child, a properly obedient daughter, a properly obedient wife, and a properly attentive, loving mother to my children. I willingly gave and seldom, if ever, asked for - or expected - anything in return. There is certainly nothing there to indicate anything strange, unusual, or different, is there? Just a perfectly ordinary person living a perfectly ordinary life. I like kittens, fuzzy slippers, home-made fudge, and rye bread toast and tea on a rainy afternoon. Police cars don't make me nervous and I find cold days ever so much nicer than hot ones. I am much more interested in . . . . . More at Google Books!
Once I Met a King - a True Vingnette
Es war einmal…Once upon a time in Germany: Outside of beautiful Heidelberg, is a preserve where the Royal deer have been kept for perhaps a thousand years. We knew they were there and had seen them in the distance from time to time, down the hillsides and into the small valley there . . . . . . . . . He came, huge and sleek with a great rack of antlers, everything one could ever imagine a big Royal Stag to be! Right up to us at the fence, . . . . He came, breathing, coat a dark sable, eyes gleaming in the light of the rising moon, and we could smell Him, feel His body heat . . . . . More at Google Books!
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