Sunday, July 31, 2011

One Love

Stand By Me

Playing for change

Thursday, July 28, 2011

symphony of one

Overheard in the checkout line:  "ya know, I worked, I slaved, I RUINT my health for thirty years,  and the thanks I get from those two ungrateful kids?  Nuthin.  I put my daughter through school, my son through college, not once did either of them come to me and say, 'ma, thanks, you did a great job.'  Mother's day?  I get a card, for crissakes, my DAUGHTER has to be somewhere else, can't even spend time with her mother,  my son showed up for ten minutes and left, and there I am (pending tears here) all alone on  a day that HONORS MOTHERS." (sympathetic murmurs from her new best friend)  NEVER brought their friends around, how do I know what kind of trash they're hanging out with, I worried over them, fed them, and never a thank you.  Kids, I don't know why I kept it up, (murmur murmur) all the thanks you get, that's all I can say..."

Monday, July 25, 2011

deja vu /Ursula LeGuin

Im up to the fourth book in the Earthsea cycle;  the pleasure comes from the reading, which is dark, and visual, and compelling.  However, in reading each of the first three I realized that I had read them before, apparently long enough ago to not remember What Happens Next but still, as it happens, I think, ah, I remember this...the fourth book so far hasn't given me any deja vu moments, so I'm cool with that.
The pain comes from having bought the entire set (two at a used book table and two in the bookstore at full price), apparently, again.  The fourth book wasn't published until 1990, and that may explain why I've not read it.  Thank heaven for small favors.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Its about the parts not the machine

Reading yesterday at another site, someone was saying how fragmented they felt with all the technology swirling around them.  I understand the feeling, big time.  Twitter and LinkedIn and Facebook, iphones and smart phones and tablets and a new social network every week, it seems, all staring at me across the breakfast table. 

It's a bit like keeping up with a very powerful, insistent, Jones family.

When I first came online in the mid 90s message boards were the big deal, and once I realized what 'interactive' really meant I was hooked.  At one point I was in a board fight at one, writing poetry in another and finding people with whom I am still friends, even now, and joining at least four other boards, all in the space of two years.  How I managed to do that on dial up and a shared machine amazes me. 

But, it was the words, the communication, the interchanges, that mattered.  The day I found the 'net, was the day I gave up television. 

And I realize now, looking back, that I only went where I wanted or needed to go, avoiding that ferocious paddling some people indulge in in order to keep up with the rest of the world.  Simplify, simplify.  I don't do peripherals, I don't do cellphones or smart phones or kindle or Nook or social networks.  Not bragging, here,  just sayin'.  The only way I can keep this entire mess from taking over my life and brain any more than it already does is to skim off the stuff I don't need, don't want, and don't care about. 

Take what you need, let the rest go.

And I do miss the old (good) Speakeasy.  It was an amazing place to be part of.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Book day

The four book trilogy by Ursula LeGuin, Earthsea,  a Ted Kooser and (to even up the sides) a Merwin, and one Jesse Stone/Parker mystery.  This should keep me going (if you factor in the last half of my yearly hike through the Discworld series) until maybe September. 

I think of this as my sick stash,  and add them to the ever changing pile of books by the bed;  the last time I got sick enough to not move for several days I managed to work my way through an entire collection of these things, and that worried me.  What happens, I think, if I got REALLY immobilized?  what if I ran out?  The mind reels. 

Monday, July 18, 2011

What a well cap looks like

Losing an artesian (drilled) well is embarrassing.  Luckily we didnt need to find it (as in, emergency situation) but rather locate it now before we have to play Hunt the Slipper in the middle of the winter...

and YES we are going to mark it really really clearly this time...

now we get serious

Sunday, July 17, 2011

I know I left it out here somewhere

sometimes, through no fault of our own, things go missing.  We'll find it, yes we will.

Friday, July 15, 2011

been a looong summer

We seem to do a lot, here, with things of the earth;  stones, gardens, wood.  It keeps us connected in some way, reminds me that this, really, is all there is.  Under the city, or the parking lot, or the interstate. is the memory of stone, flowers, wood.  If you leave it unrepaired long enough, whatever was there will soon enough revert back to what it once was.  Man can only make a temporary mark on the land (Mt. Rushmore being one horrid exception) and that's somehow comforting to know.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Monday, July 11, 2011

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Silly and sad

Silly, isn't it.  Im not writing, so people say, oh what a good time to submit--you've got the time to rework, to revise, to put together stuff for all sorts of magazines...trouble is, submitting takes energy, and it takes the creative shove to get it moving.  And no, I don't revise or rework when I'm in this cicadian pattern.   Over is over,  clean to the floor.  I wish it were other, but this is the way this particular system works.  And reading improving 'how to write a poem" books, or journaling (that's another word I don't much like, right  up there
with scrapbooking), exercises, or all the other helpful things that simply do not work.  if, by some miracle a poem does appear, the fireworks go up, and the journal, the exercises, etc, get the credit. 

It's sort of like believing in a higher power to the point where if you succeed he/she/it/they gets the credit, and if you fail you get the blame. 

Couple more years. I just hope I can still remember my name by then.