September 11 Anniversary

Best tool-hope image courtesy of Joanna Meriwether

May hope be in your heart
By Annette Marie Hyder

but also in your hands —
as a tool to use
on the damaged places
the weak and ravaged areas —
to build a better world.

Links to other 9/11 poems:
Sunday Things: Prayers on 9/11
9/11 Tribute in Light: a light in the dark, alight in the dark
tow · er (tow´ er)

News coverage for anniversary of 9/11: At ground zero, can there be a politics-free 9/11
CNN: 9/11 responders wait for compensation for their illnesses
Huffington Post: Agreement reached for Sept. 11 museum’s completion

Thousands and possibly millions of websites hosted by were down Monday

Out of Reach, Rob Dobi at

Sorry you couldn’t reach me!

My site is hosted by and crashed right along with all the others. News reports:

“Domain registrar and hosting company GoDaddy is experiencing outages
that could potentially affect millions of websites. The issues were
first noticed around 10 a.m. PT and have been intermittent since then, a
spokesperson for GoDaddy told CBS News. The outages have impacted their site as well as those belonging to customers.

The publication notes that calls to GoDaddy customer support are being
redirected to a voice message stating they are aware of the situation
and that it involves multiple services including email and web hosting.
The message further suggests that customers keep an eye on their
official Twitter feed for additional updates.

A member of hacker group Anonymous is already claiming responsibility
for the attack according to some accounts reportedly linked to the
group. @TibitXimer tweeted earlier: “Basically, every GoDaddy site on the planet just crashed.”” Read the entire article here.

More links to news coverage:

CBS News: GoDaddy goes down, Anonymous claims responsibility
Technorati: GoDaddy Experiences Downtime, Infuriates Customers

Check to see if a website or service is down for everyone or just you:
Down for Everyone or Just Me?

Sunday Things: Conch Noise

It’s hurricane season now and, although I no longer live where those wild tempests blow, I am reminded of the way the palm trees tremble beneath heavily bruised skies. Of whispers that haunt the mist like ghosts and the way the heat and rain draw tattoos that pattern-swirl down arms and legs in beads of sweat instead of ink. And of how, after the lull before the storm, the rain’s heavy fists pummel everything in sight.

But for every time I think of the destructive force of nature I am reminded of its great beauty too. What draws my thought from there to here to now be thinking of you?

Conch Noise (an excerpt)
By Annette Marie Hyder
A poem from The Real Reason the Queen Hated Snow

On a lonely beach, in a lifeguard tower presumed upon a dare, two siblings sat as the sun sank down and seagulls cursed the air.

The stiff sea breeze remonstrated and their hearts stirred ill at ease. They could also hear the sea’s low murmur as they clutched their sunburned knees. Two sphinxes cast in flesh and bone, they held each other tight and marveled at the beauty of the coming of the night.

The stars were a sparkling fishing net to catch golden tomorrow’s fish in and the song of the sea was theirs to hum to the booming surf’s loud din.

Huge rocks were tumbled and broken by the mercies of the sea. They cupped pools of water in their crooked rock hands, which teemed phosphorescently, with little fish that frothed and bubbled, with shells that glinted and winked, with seaweed fronds that undulated and crabs all rouged and pinked.

The moon shone like Mother of Pearl, aflame luminescently, and purfled and pearled, nascently gilding, the wavelets of the sea. The sea can whisper such sad songs of lost hopes and sunken dreams but it can also crash with joy and sparkle with moonbeams.

Remember that night, sometime when you’re walking on a beach along the brink. Remember flying fish and deep sea monsters and sea snakes that curl and kink. And that vociferous conch shell that you press to your ear? Don’t drop it down with a start. That roaring you hear is equal in “shellibels” to the noise you make in my heart.

Drew Peterson (modern day Bluebeard) found guilty of murdering third wife, Kathleen Savio

Bluebeard by Gustav Doré, public domain

I blogged two years ago about Drew Peterson. I was fascinated by the parallels I saw between him and the monster groom in the Bluebeard folktales and intrigued by how his third wife’s voice accused him — through forensic evidence — from beyond the grave. Today, a jury found him guilty of first-degree murder in the 2004 drowning death of his third wife, Kathleen Savio.

Requiescat in pace, Kathleen Savio.

NBC News reports:
“Ex-cop Drew Peterson found guilty of murdering third wife, Kathleen Savio

A jury on Thursday found Drew Peterson guilty of first-degree murder
in the 2004 drowning death of his third wife, Kathleen Savio.

There were loud gasps in the courtroom as the verdict was delivered.

a former Chicago-area police sergeant, sat stoically and did not react,
and then was cuffed and led away from the courtroom.

When Savio
was found dead in a bathtub, the death was initially ruled accidental.
The 2007 disappearance of Peterson’s fourth wife, Stacy Peterson, raised
suspicions.” Read the entire article here.

Here is a link to my blog post from 2010: Drew Peterson a modern day Bluebeard?

To the TARDIS!

We got the school information sheet and were concerned that we had apparently missed the start of school — by a whole year.

First Day of School 2012
By Annette Marie Hyder

The air lacks the pencil sharpness
that usually accompanies the first day of classes
lower temps are playing it cool
and will be late for school this year
while my daughter with her smiling face
and bright apple of intelligence,
shining from the polishing she gives it,
starts another year of packing the days away
in her metaphorical backpack.
I love the ease and grace with which she shoulders
the things that she must carry
and that she weaves flowers into the bag’s straps
as she picks them as she goes.

Note on the title of this post: The TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimension in Space) is a time machine and spacecraft in the British science fiction television program Doctor Who.

Happy Labor Day 2012!

Photo credit Annette Marie Hyder.

What do delicious, delicious cookies have to do with Labor Day? I made these cookies for our Labor Day picnic! And here’s a Labor Day poem:

Here’s to
By Annette Marie Hyder

the hands and hearts behind
brick stacked monuments
that tickle the belly of the sky
that make airplanes and by default people
take to the air and fly;
that put together the Rubik’s cube of motors
that make the cars, trucks, and motorcycles roar
that mold and shape and tinker and touch
the lives we lead and more.
Their fingers point forwards the future,
paint the Internet in colors that leak and bleed
into the commerce and into the tea of people overseas
and every thing these workers do
in whatever sphere they choose
comes together like a hand-clasped circle
comprising me and you, and you, and you, and you.

celebrate the workers of the world today, the underpaid, overworked who
make our lives easier and more comfortable. Let’s celebrate by
increasing the minimum wage, cutting back the workweek to four days, and
allowing for joy and love to replace fatigue and busy-ness that eats
everyone’s lives. Let’s celebrate by reducing the terrible gap between
the rich and the poor in our nation. Happy Labor Day!
— Pam Uschuk

Link to history of Labor Day

Sunday Things: Sunday hat

Photo Copyright Annette Marie Hyder

I’m thinking of my mother today and how much she loves hats. When I was growing up, she often wore a special hat for Sunday meetings at the Kingdom Hall. But her most extravagant hats, feathered in elegance and brimmed with style were the ones that she wore to the Jehovah’s Witness conventions that were held periodically. They had weekends devoted to themed public discourse about the bible which were attended by Jehovah’s Witnesses from miles and miles around and which necessitated the rental of an auditorium. Many of these religious conventions that I remember were held at the St. Petersburg, Florida, Bayfront Center which could hold up to 7,500 people.

Sunday was the showstopper day that always included a drama, a dramatic reenactment of stories from the bible with the Jehovah’s Witness actors onstage wearing biblically appropriate costuming and, in the case of the men, fake facial hair (because Jehovah’s Witness men were supposed to be clean shaven they had to don fake beards to approximate the appearance of the patriarchs).

I bought this hat at one of my favorite thrift stores just because it reminds me of my mother.  And I must say that although some of her hats were fantastically large with sweeping brim-span and intimidating heights, she never got any complaints from other conventioneers about her hat blocking their view of the drama — only compliments.

Once the excitement of
the assembly was over with, we kids would dress up and reenact those
dramas at home and put on plays for our family. Something always seemed
to be missing when I would spot my mother in the audience. It is only
now I realize that what I was missing — for our show — was her wearing
a nice big hat.