Monthly Archives: October 2014

A Happy Halloween call from Aunt Ira Mae…



Crawfish Manor

Received a call from Aunt Ira Mae today, she has decided that the old folks at Crawfish Manor does not have enough to do on a day-to-day basis, accept to pry into other folks business.  I said to her you might need to stop and think that most elderly people are not like you (she is well into her 90’s and acts like 50); many are hard of hearing or cannot see well.

She screamed into the phone. ”Hard of hearing, do not be fooled by that, they can hear a fly fart at one-hundred yards. Every time I opened my door to take out boxes that I have unpacked, no less than ten heads all sporting curly blue hair pops out to look at me as I walk down the hallway’.

Then she continued to say. “Don’t get me wrong, I have white hair…I just don’t think having it short and spiked went over too well, and I am certain that being bare foot and braless did not get me any points, and no, “the girls” were not bouncing off my knees. When God called out who wants “Big Breast”, I thought he said, “Big Test” and I ran the other way”!

Aunt Ira Mae no doubt irritated but laughing continued with…

“With the unpacking done, I decided to go for a bike ride (she has a three wheel adult trike). There I was on the elevator with the bike, a man and woman got on with me before the door could close. The man looked at me and said loudly, “Do you go to church”? I smiled and said “No”; he got louder, “Don’t you believe in God”? I smiled and said “Yes”, I knew what was coming next…”People who believe in God go to church”! His wife said loudly, “You’re going to hell”! I smiled and said, “Yes mam, I may be going there, and you and your husband don’t forget to say hi when you see me, ya hear”! I still don’t know their names; I call them the Church People”!

Well what can I say, I feel sorry for the other residents of Crawfish Manor. Ira Mae is a true southern character that you either love or hate. I am certain that when she got off the phone she told herself while pouring her shot of “Jack”, breathe damn’it.


10.31.2014 Happy Halloween ajm



Filed under Elderly biking, Jack Daniels, Life, Living in Senior Housing, Moonshine, Thoughts, Words

Book at…




Ann Johnson-Murphree Poetry Books – A Collection of Poetry
The 8×11 coffee table books that will display well . The matte cover is classy and inviting. Within each book the reader will find approximately fifty poems.  A length pleasing to browse, read one or more; they will find a connection, a meaning and a purpose in each poem.


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Filed under Poetry, Words


A zest for life and words please check out Mike’s blog, you will not be disappointed.



Spend wisely the

Currency known as passion

For there are

No snips to be had

You get what you pay for

With affairs of the heart

Too rare to be

At the mercy of

Greedy traders

Pulling strings

Force feeding or

Bloodletting of

Precious metals

Commodities and

Foreign Exchange

Tawdry things them all

There is no requirement

For the currency of passion

Hard or soft

In any financial

Market place

To her cost and

Insecure, she went

Out of her way

To be noticed

Best she could anyhow

He, the target of her fascination

One immune to allusion

In the privacy of a single room

She spat feathers at her folly

Spat feathers habitually


To his impairment

A man blind to anything

That was not a conclusion

A man easily noticed yet

Unaware that this was so

They neither spoke nor touched

Nor even properly met

Destitute his vision

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Weekend Visit with Aunt Ira Mae…


Day before yesterday I left all of you with Aunt Ira Mae’s “do’s and don’ts” of moving into senior housing, her accounting of the Manor; her moving to Hell-Town, USA and many of its inhabitants, the people from “hell” as she deems them. Let me start by saying that I have visited her and that I do not believe all senior housing is as the Manor; not all people in the Manor or town are like those that she has encountered. However, I have witnessed those who appeared to be friendly, turn within time.

My introduction to her neighbors was they walked, shuffled, or wheeled up and down the hall trying to get a glimpse of new people. My first impression of Independent living was, “Aunt Ira Mae, are you sure this is not a nursing home”?

Upon leaving, the gathering room was full of blue haired old battle-axes, yes their actions gave this impression; they migrated to the lounge area by the elevator. Any one that tells you old people cannot see, do not believe them. They were like vultures waiting for the death of a road kill, peering with their tiny beady eyes at me, knowing that their minds were wondering how I was related to Ira Mae. I smiled and kept moving.

This weekend I made a quick visit, the “Warden” as Aunt Ira Mae named her, and her sidekick that she named “Mouth”, met me outside the elevator. “Ain’t you the woman who moved her Aunt in here”, hollered the Warden. Mouth replied, “Most people think she is a crazy woman, moved in speaks to no one, we know she smokes and drinks; and she is gone all day”! I looked at them respectfully and smiled as I walked away.

The Warden bellowed out, “We ain’t going to like her”.

I got in my car and left…like Aunt Ira Mae says, “She takes her shot of Jack every day and just keeps telling herself to breath damn’it”.

Since I have now heard from her I will need to call her tonight and “catch up” on the gossip.


10.27.2014 ajm



Filed under Life, Living in Senior Housing, Thoughts, Words

A Sachet of Poetry…


About adoration, aspirations and yes asylums…


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Filed under Life, Poetry, Tennessee Foothills, Thoughts, Words

Aunt Ira Mae and Crawfish Creek Manor Day 2 …




Crawfish Creek Manor

Aunt Ira Mae called with her latest…if you are looking for senior housing here are some “do’s and don’ts”, and this may be the most important information the older generation will ever read.

Do not – be fooled if the housing is new with only a few tenants. Remember, those that can walk are in a gathering area checking you out; they were there first… this is an important thing never to forget, if you move in; you will be the subject of conversation for many months as you are the only “life” they have seen since they arrived at the Manor.

Do not – believe everything a manager of the property tells you, they are trying to fill the place up!

Do not – check out a town during winter months, everything looks magnificent  covered with snow.

Do – visit several times before signing a lease. Ira Mae said that if she had done so, she would have found out that the old woman who guards the door and questions everyone who enters was truly at one point “a warden”!

Do – read the lease carefully, the administrator/manager makes the rules as she goes about her day, different rules, different rents, her favorite saying is “This is all a secret now, don’t tell the others, because I am treating you special”. Then they all gather and discuss how special they are among themselves.

Those are the main do’s and don’ts, life is complicated here at Crawfish Creek Manor…

Hometown, small town, USA, beware it is Hell-Town, USA; Over 55 housing, (you think), friendly (until you move in), then you find that you are living in God’s Waiting Room…it is a nursing home without nursing staff and you have Crawfish Creek on one side and the Pearly Gates on the other!

Seems Aunt Ira Mae does not let anything or anyone get her down her message for today, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself…breathe damn’it.

As I continue to write my southern stories Aunt Ira Mae has become my muse, sets a fire under me to tell these stories before I have to go into “God’s Waiting Room”.

To check out my poetry works on death and depression, living through the loss of a love one go to…







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Filed under Life, Living in Senior Housing, Moonshine, Poetry, Prose, Thoughts, Words

Received a call today that I found interesting…

old lady


My aunt Ira Mae just moved into senior housing in a small Wisconsin town called Crawfish Creek Manor, Aunt Ira Mae calls it “God’s waiting room”. She called me today to let me know the latest gossip, about her little trips around town and such. This is today’s accounting of her new home.

Crawfish Creek Manor is a one street town with a creek running through it, Crawfish Creek…I am told that there are no crawfish in the creek! She no doubt put on her waders and checked this out. The town she says begins with the Manor, a home for senior citizens, and the creek winds through town. On each end of Main Street are two wood bridges between the bridges is a Theater (owned by Mayor Wilson) that is open every Saturday; next comes Andy’s barbershop (the mayor’s son), then the Crawfish Café (the mayors daughter Emma), Edna’s Beauty shop (Andy’s wife), Wilson’s Drug and Hardware store (Mayor’s son), Morrie’s Service Station (the mayor’s grandson), and last but not least a sign next to the last bridge with bold letters stating… “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING CRAWFISH CREEK”.

By now you are wondering, shouldn’t the town be called Wilson Creek? Well, no, because Aunt Ira Mae said that Mr. Wilson’s great-great-granddaddy settled the town and he thought it was a fine name for a creek and town. It is farm country there are no citizens accept the Wilson’s their homes are on the edge of Crawfish Creek and the Manor that she has moved into.

Aunt Ira Mae told me that Crawfish Creek Manor’s tenants come from a four county area; a large home with a palatial four-column porch that would lead you to believe it had been picked up out of the Deep South and placed there beside the creek. There are twenty tenants male and female, a gathering room and a small office where Mr. Wilson’s daughter Rosemary pretends to be the administrator/manager.

Ira Mae, well she moved from the city…an active elderly female of eighty-years-young. It looked peaceful she said, away from the hustle-bustle of Madison metro living, a place where seniors lived and enjoyed their waning years, or so it advertised.

However, living in Crawfish Creek Manor is not what she thought it would be… according to her, if it was not for her bottle of “Jack” she would go postal on them. I have found her adventure in her new home very interesting and she promises to give me a daily update, so as I continue with my “book project” I will try to share these interesting stories. When I ask what she thought each day when she woke in her new home she yelled into the phone”I tell myself to just get up and breathe damn-it at my age what else can I do”.   That’s my Aunt Ira Mae, a walking cane in one hand and a cup of coffee laced with Jack Daniels in the other! Hopefully she will call me with another tale of her life at Crawfish Creek Manor very soon.

On page 70 of the new book and these distractions are at times refreshing!

10.24.2014 ajm


Filed under Living in Senior Housing

On Sale…





Ann Johnson-Murphree Poetry Books – A Collection of Poetry
The 8×11 coffee table books that will display well . The matte cover is classy and inviting. Within each book the reader will find approximately fifty poems.  A length pleasing to browse, read one or more; they will find a connection, a meaning and a purpose in each poem.


Thank you for your support.  ajm

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Filed under Life, Poetry, Prose, Thoughts, Words

What do you see when you look at an older person?

A worthy piece to share from Ernest Slyman’s Facebook Page…Please share



“When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.


One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.


And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet.”


Cranky Old Man


What do you see nurses? ……What do you see?

What are you thinking .. . when you’re looking at me?

A cranky old man, … …not very wise,

Uncertain of habit .… … . .. with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food .. . … . . and makes no reply.

When you say in a loud voice . .’I do wish you’d try!’

Who seems not to notice …the things that you do.

And forever is losing … …… A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not … … lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding … .The long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking?. .Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse .you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am … . .. As I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, .… . as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters .… .. . who love one another

A young boy of Sixteen … .. with wings on his feet

Dreaming that soon now …… a lover he’ll meet.

A groom soon at Twenty … heart gives a leap.

Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now … . .I have young of my own.

Who need me to guide … And a secure happy home.

A man of Thirty . .… . . My young now grown fast,

Bound to each other …. With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,

But my woman is beside me . . to see I don’t mourn.

At Fifty, once more, .. …Babies play ‘round my knee,

Again, we know children … . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me … . My wife is now dead.

I look at the future … … . I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing .… young of their own.

And I think of the years … And the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old man … … .. and nature is cruel.

It’s jest to make old age … … . look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.

There is now a stone … where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,

And now and again … . . my battered heart swells

I remember the joys … . .. . I remember the pain.

And I’m loving and living … … . life over again.

I think of the years, all too few …. gone too fast.

And accept the stark fact … that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people .… . .… open and see.

Not a cranky old man .

Look closer … . see .. .…. …. . ME!!


Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!


Filed under Art, Life, Poetry, Words

Books at……………..

Ann Johnson-Murphree Poetry Books – A Collection of Poetry
The 8×11 coffee table books that will display well . The matte cover is classy and inviting. Within each book the reader will find approximately fifty poems.  A length pleasing to browse, read one or more; they will find a connection, a meaning and a purpose in each poem.


Thank you for your support.  ajm

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Prose, Words