Kit Carson was a German Jew
Married a squaw, had children two
When she died, he married again
Eight more children by a Mexican.
As a youth he had been a run away
At sixteen or seventeen, some would say.
He didn't want a stable life
He wanted excitement, full of strife.
Kit Carson rode across the land
Killed many an Indian by his hand.
Many an Indian tried to kill him
Those were the times, that was the whim.
Kit Carson lived by trapping fir
Many a man had felt that lure.
When the fir trade became so scarce
The trappers went looking for another place.
Many men knew the trails and ways
Of tribes of Indians and where they lay.
Many a man had squaw for wife
And children too, they had brought to life.
All Must live and find a way
The Military was in it's day.
The men had knowledge that it could use
The Indian problem to defuse.
There was the need, a man must provide
Against the tribes they began to ride.
The plan being clear the Indians must die
The plan being clear the Indians would hide.
But men like Carson were cunning and new
They knew how to conquer though being few.
They not only knew where the Indian lived,
They knew exactly where the Indian hid.
They would kill the braves, collect the tribe
To the reservation, dead and alive.
Confined forever from that day on
In that which was known as the Indian Reservation.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
THE WILDS OF INDIAN TERRITORY
In the history of our country
Is a story of exploration
By a people newly emigrant
Ignorant of land and species.
Across the prairies and the Rockies
Along the waterways beside them
Watched by people of great multitude
Old, with ancient understanding
Watched the people newly emigrant.
Out of greed and want and wonder
Began this early expedition
To be known and be recorded
By a president known as Jefferson.
Sent explorers to the mountains
To the valleys and the rivers
To know plants-the vegetation
To know animals prolific.
Natives too were mighty curious
Never seeing white or black man
And desirous of ammunition
To take buffalo the easier
And make their homes more prosperous.
So this gentleman, this Jefferson
Third president of our nation
Roamed himself, child of the woodlands,
Roamed himself, child of plantations.
Child of the Virginia Piedmont.
Lover of nature and of all things natural
Wrote out the declaration
"That all men are created equal."
So this Thomas sent his secretary
To the wilds of Indian territory.
First to train him in the sciences.
Lewis studied plants and animals
And celestial navigation.
Lewis himself had been a soldier
And chose his friend and army captain,
A staid and steady one, a loyal one.
All through lifetime Clark was for him.
Named his first son after Lewis,
Meriwether Lewis Clark the chosen.
Took his friend on expedition
Took his friend on "The Discovery."
Listen to these ancient histories
Of the Indians and their nations
On this continent so sacred-
First to know the sacred mountains
First to know the sacred rivers
The first to hunt the first to gather
To plant the bean, squash corn and sunflower
To dig the roots and use the herbs here
For their health and for their pleasure.
Imagine endless generation
Loving earth and sky and water
Loving animal and kinsman
Before the foreign ships had landed
With the earliest invaders.
Vikings first before the Spanish
Then the Spanish, French and English.
Who were these with rifle ready,
Who were these with canon loaded,
To the people of the ancient
No beginning and no ending?
Is a story of exploration
By a people newly emigrant
Ignorant of land and species.
Across the prairies and the Rockies
Along the waterways beside them
Watched by people of great multitude
Old, with ancient understanding
Watched the people newly emigrant.
Out of greed and want and wonder
Began this early expedition
To be known and be recorded
By a president known as Jefferson.
Sent explorers to the mountains
To the valleys and the rivers
To know plants-the vegetation
To know animals prolific.
Natives too were mighty curious
Never seeing white or black man
And desirous of ammunition
To take buffalo the easier
And make their homes more prosperous.
So this gentleman, this Jefferson
Third president of our nation
Roamed himself, child of the woodlands,
Roamed himself, child of plantations.
Child of the Virginia Piedmont.
Lover of nature and of all things natural
Wrote out the declaration
"That all men are created equal."
So this Thomas sent his secretary
To the wilds of Indian territory.
First to train him in the sciences.
Lewis studied plants and animals
And celestial navigation.
Lewis himself had been a soldier
And chose his friend and army captain,
A staid and steady one, a loyal one.
All through lifetime Clark was for him.
Named his first son after Lewis,
Meriwether Lewis Clark the chosen.
Took his friend on expedition
Took his friend on "The Discovery."
Listen to these ancient histories
Of the Indians and their nations
On this continent so sacred-
First to know the sacred mountains
First to know the sacred rivers
The first to hunt the first to gather
To plant the bean, squash corn and sunflower
To dig the roots and use the herbs here
For their health and for their pleasure.
Imagine endless generation
Loving earth and sky and water
Loving animal and kinsman
Before the foreign ships had landed
With the earliest invaders.
Vikings first before the Spanish
Then the Spanish, French and English.
Who were these with rifle ready,
Who were these with canon loaded,
To the people of the ancient
No beginning and no ending?
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
ROOM 1 Orchid
The Dementia Stories
Orchid sat on the edge of the bed...staring. Her feet were resting on the side of her bed. She shared the room. Sometimes she shared the room with someone that she knew and other times with a stranger. This afternoon she knew the woman that lay asleep on the double bed across from hers.
Orchid was a small size 8. She wore the same button up cotton blouses with a brown jacket to cover and polyester slacks. She stood 5'3" and was quick of movement, busy. A pleasent woman, well bred and polite with a kind smile and soft brown eyes that met a person but then would drift away.
She lowered her feet to the floor. She wore bare feet in her black leather slip on shoes. She lifted herself off the bed, onto the floor and walked across the bedroom floor, passed Violia's bed and went on into the bathroom. About two inches of water covered the bedroom floor and the same amount flooded the bathroom. She walked back to her bed, sat down again and lifted her feet up. She slipped off her shoes and set them on her dresser drawers. They were dry and her feet and ankles were dry as well as her pant legs. She lay down on her bed with her head on the pillow and covered up with a pretty knitted afghan and closed her eyes.
When Orchid received a phone call from a friend or relative, she was eager to talk. She would arise from a seemingly deep sleep and converse with avid attention and response.
During the days and evenings, Orchid was active with "cleaning". She would go to the lunch room, in the area where the fridge, cupboards and sink were located. And the big 33 gal. plastic trash, full from the latest meal would be taken out and transported to her closet or someone elses- along with the broom and the dust pan. She would constantly be moving....moving....until bedtime. Then she would sleep. Either in her bed or sitting up in the T.V. room with her eyes closed and arms folded across her chest.
ROOM 2 Iris
The Dementia Stories
ROOM 2 Iris
Iris sat at the dinner table with the usual three women that she ate with at every meal. Feeling ill. Her eyes had a glazed and strange look, as if she wasn't in the natural world. She couldn't focus, her head hurt. She stared. The head caregiver came over to the table and spoke to her softly. She slipped a pair of dark glasses over her eyes. The women at the table were very disturbed by Iris's behavior. And the server, also.
She couldn't stand up or speak but she knew or thought that she knew that it was not her illness that made her feel sick but the medication that her brother put on her. Medication that was in round patches that she found on her arms or on her back. She thought that her brother was trying to murder her. He is killing me, he is killing me, she thought to herself. Then she lost consciousness.
She woke in her bed. She didn't know how she got there.
Iris sat at the dinner table with the usual three women that she ate with at every meal. Feeling ill. Her eyes had a glazed and strange look, as if she wasn't in the natural world. She couldn't focus, her head hurt. She stared. The head caregiver came over to the table and spoke to her softly. She slipped a pair of dark glasses over her eyes. The women at the table were very disturbed by Iris's behavior. And the server, also.
She couldn't stand up or speak but she knew or thought that she knew that it was not her illness that made her feel sick but the medication that her brother put on her. Medication that was in round patches that she found on her arms or on her back. She thought that her brother was trying to murder her. He is killing me, he is killing me, she thought to herself. Then she lost consciousness.
She woke in her bed. She didn't know how she got there.
ROOM 3 Madrone
The Dementia Stories
ROOM 3 Madrone
Madrone didn't know where he was. He was praying.
He was a small man who was neatly dressed and clean. He wore a cap with US NAVY embroidered across the bill.
He wandered from room to room and down the hallways. He wasn't sure where his room was and when someone showed him, he wouldn't go in his room, except in the middle of the night. And then he would not sleep in his bed, he would sleep in his soft recliner and he would not remove his clothes but would sleep with his clothes on and his shoes. After several weeks he began to recognize his new friends and the caregivers that had been taking care of him. He started to crack jokes and smile and demand more milk-always more milk.
Madrone didn't know where he was. He was praying.
He was a small man who was neatly dressed and clean. He wore a cap with US NAVY embroidered across the bill.
He wandered from room to room and down the hallways. He wasn't sure where his room was and when someone showed him, he wouldn't go in his room, except in the middle of the night. And then he would not sleep in his bed, he would sleep in his soft recliner and he would not remove his clothes but would sleep with his clothes on and his shoes. After several weeks he began to recognize his new friends and the caregivers that had been taking care of him. He started to crack jokes and smile and demand more milk-always more milk.
ROOM 4 Spruce
The Dementia Stories
ROOM 5 Spruce
Spruce lay on the bed in his cotton briefs, wrapped up in the top sheet. Listening to the radio. Listening to a talk show on the radio.
It was evening, the sun had set. It was a balmy September night and the window was half opened. He was trying to watch for changes in himself. The Dr. had said that there would be changes in his condition.
These people here were very far gone. Very sick. He didn't see that he was like any one of them. At the dinner table there really wasn't anyone he could carry on a conversation with. He was polite. Some evenings he just couldn't go to dinner. He just couldn't. He would stay in his room and have dinner brought to him. Some nights he would refuse his medicine.
He woke up. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was hot. He was laying in the parking lot of the facility, naked. Several people were standing over him, one was slipping his cotton briefs over his feet and ankles and then cotton slacks. "Come on, Spruce, you are going to be fine, let me help you up".
Spruce lay on the bed in his cotton briefs, wrapped up in the top sheet. Listening to the radio. Listening to a talk show on the radio.
It was evening, the sun had set. It was a balmy September night and the window was half opened. He was trying to watch for changes in himself. The Dr. had said that there would be changes in his condition.
These people here were very far gone. Very sick. He didn't see that he was like any one of them. At the dinner table there really wasn't anyone he could carry on a conversation with. He was polite. Some evenings he just couldn't go to dinner. He just couldn't. He would stay in his room and have dinner brought to him. Some nights he would refuse his medicine.
He woke up. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was hot. He was laying in the parking lot of the facility, naked. Several people were standing over him, one was slipping his cotton briefs over his feet and ankles and then cotton slacks. "Come on, Spruce, you are going to be fine, let me help you up".
ROOM 5 Lily
ROOM 6 Lily
Lily lay on her bed.
88 years old and doing well on her Aricept. She'd been out with her family to a meal the day before and was enjoying the memory.
Her day was routine. She would wake about 6a and wait for a caregiver to help her sit up, then stand up to her walker. She could walk to the toilet with the help of the walker but needed help sitting and changing her depends, which she wore as a precaution. She was continent. She had to be dressed. She would only be dressed in the same pants and the same top. The same sweater, never a different one. Duplicates hung in her closet. She knew. Her clothes had to be washed after bed time and returned by morning. She knew the duplicates and wouldn't wear them. She would instruct her caregiver to put her bed socks back into the drawer "because they get lost in the wash." " Also put my nighty back too," she would insist.
Then it was time to go to the diner and as soon as she pushed her walker out into the hall she knew her way and said good-bye to her caregiver. She would move like a little box turtle to her place at breakfast. She would find her place, need help sitting down and need help being pushed in at the table. All this would exhaust her and she would rest til' lunch in which the same routine would tax her. Some afternoons she would attend the entertainment in the main hall but more times than not she would stay in her room and have thoughts that the Aricept no doubt made possible. Every object must be exactly placed for Lily to be comfortable. Her pillows must be placed just so-her sheet pulled up to her chin, just so far and the blanket with afghan next-just so. Arranged, just so or she couldn't rest. "No, that is not right," she would say. "There, there, I think that is right.
She had a dream one night, that she and her husband were curled up in each other's arms. She felt wonderful, remembering.
Lily lay on her bed.
88 years old and doing well on her Aricept. She'd been out with her family to a meal the day before and was enjoying the memory.
Her day was routine. She would wake about 6a and wait for a caregiver to help her sit up, then stand up to her walker. She could walk to the toilet with the help of the walker but needed help sitting and changing her depends, which she wore as a precaution. She was continent. She had to be dressed. She would only be dressed in the same pants and the same top. The same sweater, never a different one. Duplicates hung in her closet. She knew. Her clothes had to be washed after bed time and returned by morning. She knew the duplicates and wouldn't wear them. She would instruct her caregiver to put her bed socks back into the drawer "because they get lost in the wash." " Also put my nighty back too," she would insist.
Then it was time to go to the diner and as soon as she pushed her walker out into the hall she knew her way and said good-bye to her caregiver. She would move like a little box turtle to her place at breakfast. She would find her place, need help sitting down and need help being pushed in at the table. All this would exhaust her and she would rest til' lunch in which the same routine would tax her. Some afternoons she would attend the entertainment in the main hall but more times than not she would stay in her room and have thoughts that the Aricept no doubt made possible. Every object must be exactly placed for Lily to be comfortable. Her pillows must be placed just so-her sheet pulled up to her chin, just so far and the blanket with afghan next-just so. Arranged, just so or she couldn't rest. "No, that is not right," she would say. "There, there, I think that is right.
She had a dream one night, that she and her husband were curled up in each other's arms. She felt wonderful, remembering.
ROOM 6 Willow
The Dementia Stories
ROOM 7 Willow
*
*
Willow sat in the chair that was next to the T.V. He was emaciated. He looked like an old balloon that had been blown up and after a time had deflated. He just sat there quietly. "I don't know where I am," he said.
*
He said this again to a caregiver as she walked into the room.
*
"I know where you are," she said matter of factly. "I know who you are and where you are. You are safe. I am taking care of you. And I love you."
*
He looked tired, defeated and resigned.
*
"I don't know where I am."
*
*
Willow sat in the chair that was next to the T.V. He was emaciated. He looked like an old balloon that had been blown up and after a time had deflated. He just sat there quietly. "I don't know where I am," he said.
*
He said this again to a caregiver as she walked into the room.
*
"I know where you are," she said matter of factly. "I know who you are and where you are. You are safe. I am taking care of you. And I love you."
*
He looked tired, defeated and resigned.
*
"I don't know where I am."
Sunday, November 16, 2014
ROOM 7 Blossom
The Dementia Stories
She was aimlessly wondering around her bedroom. Not looking for anything, just moving around. The caregiver opening the bedroom door, made eye contact with her and smiling, said "hello".
*
"Oh, hello," Blossom said. "I thought I was alone. Is there anyone else here. I mean, here, anywhere?"
*
"Why yes. Everyone is listening to music. Would you like to listen to some music? Everyone is in the main hall. Would you like to be with them?"
*
"Why yes I would," Blossom said. There were tears in her eyes and she looked frightened. "I thought that I might be the only one.......................here."
*
"Lets go to the bathroom,"the caregiver took Blossom to the bathroom, slipped her depends and polyester slacks down, Blossom sat down on the toilet. She was "dirty" and her blouse was wet and needed changing. The kind person that cared for her changed these wet and dirty clothes and put her in a warm clean outfit. When she was ready to go, they walked, arm in arm down several halls to the place where most of the other residences were congregated. The feeling of aloneness was gone and being with others gave a sense of humanity.
*
"Would you like to sit here Blossom?" "Would you like some punch and a cookie?"
She was aimlessly wondering around her bedroom. Not looking for anything, just moving around. The caregiver opening the bedroom door, made eye contact with her and smiling, said "hello".
*
"Oh, hello," Blossom said. "I thought I was alone. Is there anyone else here. I mean, here, anywhere?"
*
"Why yes. Everyone is listening to music. Would you like to listen to some music? Everyone is in the main hall. Would you like to be with them?"
*
"Why yes I would," Blossom said. There were tears in her eyes and she looked frightened. "I thought that I might be the only one.......................here."
*
"Lets go to the bathroom,"the caregiver took Blossom to the bathroom, slipped her depends and polyester slacks down, Blossom sat down on the toilet. She was "dirty" and her blouse was wet and needed changing. The kind person that cared for her changed these wet and dirty clothes and put her in a warm clean outfit. When she was ready to go, they walked, arm in arm down several halls to the place where most of the other residences were congregated. The feeling of aloneness was gone and being with others gave a sense of humanity.
*
"Would you like to sit here Blossom?" "Would you like some punch and a cookie?"
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