Monday, Monday and the v. boys beat the blue devils. Still chilly from watching the game by the canal. Soup's warmin'.
Busy weekend, busy as a bee. Friday to Tufts then Kingston K o' C then Medford. Saturday to Allston then Gloucester to cut sheep out of wood and sew and to Watertown and quick stops in Brighton and Somerville to drop off the friends then back to Gloucester. Sunday to Medford then home and happily so. And everything was lovely.
I'm getting ready to go to Seattle. Happy Seattle! What to pack? What to bring? Cowboy boots and velvet dress, knitting and Moomin book. Funky shoes and cozy pajamas. Paper for letter writing. Jeans and a hairbrush.
Origami paper?
I finished nearly everything on my list today. Had the boys for a bit, that interupted the list-doing and coffee after with my sister as well. I need to go food shopping tomorrow. Morning, I think, nice and early.
Blues is happening in the living room.
This week my crushes are as follows:
10. Aaron Tieger
9. Gerrit Lansing
8. Joe Torra
7. Xtina Strong
6. Mark Lamoureux
5. Mick Carr
4. Joel Sloman
3. Chris Rizzo
2. Shin Yu Pai
1. Jim Behrle
I typed Lansing as Landsing at first. I like it that way. Gerrit Landsing landsong sing song Gerrit. Last week someone searched for gerrit + lansing + chicken and ended up here.
Monday, September 29
Thursday, September 25
Shin Yu, I'm perfect too...
Violin lessons make me happy. Nate said nice things to me about my tone, so nice. I learned to play The Auld Triangle last night. My instructions for Down in the Valley were to make foxes two miles away cry with my sweet notes. I have a new song to work on and am practicing double stops.
Took Mum to her last test for the week and then for a walk on the beach. Tried ona hilarious fake-fur coat in Rockport. Had more coffee. I love coffee.
Violin lessons make me happy. Nate said nice things to me about my tone, so nice. I learned to play The Auld Triangle last night. My instructions for Down in the Valley were to make foxes two miles away cry with my sweet notes. I have a new song to work on and am practicing double stops.
Took Mum to her last test for the week and then for a walk on the beach. Tried ona hilarious fake-fur coat in Rockport. Had more coffee. I love coffee.
Wednesday, September 24
I had an unexpected day today. Stopped for coffee at the grange and to get a juice for my mother for after her bloodwork. That all went well and by 9:30 I was at Gerrit's being talked into a mushroom walk. Had hope to see Mister County (doesn't one always hope to see Mr. County?) but settled for a quick hello on the telephone.
The walk was lovely with nurses and Erika and Sally the old lady from Manchester and Gary, who had more of that boy enthusiasm than the rest of us combined. This was my first time looking for mushrooms and it took a while for me to find anything beyond the most average mushrooms (which did excite me). I did get some nice edible mushrooms: Chanterelles, Boletes, Hen-of-the-woods, some puff balls, some Russulaceae, I think, and some Coral something. I should know the names better but by the time I got them home they were a little beat-up and harder to identify. I did get the experts to okay them all.
I can't wait for James to get home so I can cook them for dinner. There are a lot of bugs around them. That worries me a bit and I am trying to get them off. Gary flies out to Seattle to harvest Morels. He wants me to go to the Lochs when I am out there next week. They have great mushrooms near Seattle, he says.
Gerrit and I had lunch at Thai Choice, where we ran into my boss and Anthony Weller having lunch. I recommend the Artist's Lunch as a replacement for the Business Lunch. Poets, painters, music makers- go out for lunch! Discuss your ideas and spend time giggling over foolish and important things! Let the gentle pace rule the rest of your day! Then go, if where you are hasn't got good coffee, to someplace that does. Get a pastry. Split it, for goodness sake! What joy is there but in sharing such things!
So we did. Cafe Sicilia itself at a different pace than the usual morning time I am there. Paul laughing, bread already made and mostly sold. Old ladies buying cookies, two of each kind. Talk about politics and football. That's soccer to the rest of you.
Went to work, mostly to show Gregor my mushrooms. Put books away and stopped almost done to catch the bus. Home over the foot bridge.
I am sorry to have not made it to MGH to see my da today. I could have made it but the timing was all wrong and James needed the car. He doesn't mind, but I don't like him to be there alone too much. He is much better suited to it than I would be. From experience, I think. He has eased into that sort of peace of mind.
Just waiting now, for James. So I can cook mushrroms. I wonder what they will taste like. I am heating up the chowder I made on Monday so we have something more to eat than my handfulls of mushrooms that will be next to nothing once they are cooked.
The walk was lovely with nurses and Erika and Sally the old lady from Manchester and Gary, who had more of that boy enthusiasm than the rest of us combined. This was my first time looking for mushrooms and it took a while for me to find anything beyond the most average mushrooms (which did excite me). I did get some nice edible mushrooms: Chanterelles, Boletes, Hen-of-the-woods, some puff balls, some Russulaceae, I think, and some Coral something. I should know the names better but by the time I got them home they were a little beat-up and harder to identify. I did get the experts to okay them all.
I can't wait for James to get home so I can cook them for dinner. There are a lot of bugs around them. That worries me a bit and I am trying to get them off. Gary flies out to Seattle to harvest Morels. He wants me to go to the Lochs when I am out there next week. They have great mushrooms near Seattle, he says.
Gerrit and I had lunch at Thai Choice, where we ran into my boss and Anthony Weller having lunch. I recommend the Artist's Lunch as a replacement for the Business Lunch. Poets, painters, music makers- go out for lunch! Discuss your ideas and spend time giggling over foolish and important things! Let the gentle pace rule the rest of your day! Then go, if where you are hasn't got good coffee, to someplace that does. Get a pastry. Split it, for goodness sake! What joy is there but in sharing such things!
So we did. Cafe Sicilia itself at a different pace than the usual morning time I am there. Paul laughing, bread already made and mostly sold. Old ladies buying cookies, two of each kind. Talk about politics and football. That's soccer to the rest of you.
Went to work, mostly to show Gregor my mushrooms. Put books away and stopped almost done to catch the bus. Home over the foot bridge.
I am sorry to have not made it to MGH to see my da today. I could have made it but the timing was all wrong and James needed the car. He doesn't mind, but I don't like him to be there alone too much. He is much better suited to it than I would be. From experience, I think. He has eased into that sort of peace of mind.
Just waiting now, for James. So I can cook mushrroms. I wonder what they will taste like. I am heating up the chowder I made on Monday so we have something more to eat than my handfulls of mushrooms that will be next to nothing once they are cooked.
Tuesday, September 23
I saw a dragonfly this morning by the back door. He was so large and still there and even when the dog passed his wings barely quivered.
It was a mean mean morning, meaner than I could have guessed, mean enough to almost turn the car around and not go back. Ever. But the afternoon turned to forgiveness and big steps forward. Momentum moves that way as well and let's hope it continues.
Watched the boys do drills on the fields that were once the town dump. The are so flat up there but with a little curve to the edges so you think it may be the curve of the earth. The sky raced by with mist hanging and spitting little drops, hair blowing wind-wicked. Just as practice ended the sky opened and as James and I walked to the car we were soaked through. Pools of rain into the ciupholders I cleaned witht his morning's nervous energy. Glasses wet and not a dry surface to wipe them.
Driving slowly through main-street currents, water rushing and falling in sheet. Too tired to go home and needing to sit facing eachother we ended up at Jalapenos for soup to warm us and a beer for the long day. Couldn't go straight home anyway. Rain like that floods the corner near Willowrest. Talked and talked. Glad to see Jaime, glad for tortillas, glad to be wet but still not cold. Glad for Chiclets.
On the way home shivering now cold pools easing off the streets and new potholes showing their faces. Up into the tub and into bed and listen to the game phone rings get up write this and though it's early I am going to bed. G'night.
It was a mean mean morning, meaner than I could have guessed, mean enough to almost turn the car around and not go back. Ever. But the afternoon turned to forgiveness and big steps forward. Momentum moves that way as well and let's hope it continues.
Watched the boys do drills on the fields that were once the town dump. The are so flat up there but with a little curve to the edges so you think it may be the curve of the earth. The sky raced by with mist hanging and spitting little drops, hair blowing wind-wicked. Just as practice ended the sky opened and as James and I walked to the car we were soaked through. Pools of rain into the ciupholders I cleaned witht his morning's nervous energy. Glasses wet and not a dry surface to wipe them.
Driving slowly through main-street currents, water rushing and falling in sheet. Too tired to go home and needing to sit facing eachother we ended up at Jalapenos for soup to warm us and a beer for the long day. Couldn't go straight home anyway. Rain like that floods the corner near Willowrest. Talked and talked. Glad to see Jaime, glad for tortillas, glad to be wet but still not cold. Glad for Chiclets.
On the way home shivering now cold pools easing off the streets and new potholes showing their faces. Up into the tub and into bed and listen to the game phone rings get up write this and though it's early I am going to bed. G'night.
Monday, September 22
Can't sleep, worried about tomorrow. I don't hear the bell buoy but the waves are loud. A light is flickering just enough outide to make my eyes want to be open. It is up near the hill, odd enough, not from the water.
I am thinking of dream places of places to escape and now they are gone to me. Wooded paths I would run down in the moonlight to the water and sometimes in, crescent beaches where I sat for hours looking for beach glass. The world ignored me in my hours there and then all of a sudden the place was overrun with ghosts.
My mother tells a story about swimming with a seal in Folly Cove. This year she hasn't been in the ocean once. Her eyes don't look out longingly at the water; they are like the water looking carelessly back at the shoreline. I wonder what that seal took from her. What was the trade-off for that swim?
What will I do when tomorrow falls apart? I would like to be able to go back to that beach, take the same path down. Are the ghosts still there? I haven't checked in so long. I am sure the rocks have been moved by storms since then. The ballroom, the split rock, sunset and sunrise. Do urchins still fill that crack? I once found a Christmas tree washed up on the rocks. I stood it up, trunk wedged between two granite boulders. It stayed there for months.
When I was five I walked in my sleep from my room to the antique store my mother owned, just next store and now the bookstore I work at. I curled myself up in a wrought iron crib and slept there until morning. Another time I ended up in the hammock hung between two weeping willows in the back yard. I haven't walked in my sleep since.
I am thinking of dream places of places to escape and now they are gone to me. Wooded paths I would run down in the moonlight to the water and sometimes in, crescent beaches where I sat for hours looking for beach glass. The world ignored me in my hours there and then all of a sudden the place was overrun with ghosts.
My mother tells a story about swimming with a seal in Folly Cove. This year she hasn't been in the ocean once. Her eyes don't look out longingly at the water; they are like the water looking carelessly back at the shoreline. I wonder what that seal took from her. What was the trade-off for that swim?
What will I do when tomorrow falls apart? I would like to be able to go back to that beach, take the same path down. Are the ghosts still there? I haven't checked in so long. I am sure the rocks have been moved by storms since then. The ballroom, the split rock, sunset and sunrise. Do urchins still fill that crack? I once found a Christmas tree washed up on the rocks. I stood it up, trunk wedged between two granite boulders. It stayed there for months.
When I was five I walked in my sleep from my room to the antique store my mother owned, just next store and now the bookstore I work at. I curled myself up in a wrought iron crib and slept there until morning. Another time I ended up in the hammock hung between two weeping willows in the back yard. I haven't walked in my sleep since.
This week's crush list is based on the desire to have a meal or an ice cream cone with the following poets...
10.Nick Pimbino
9. Mike County
8. Simon Pettet
7. Shin Yu Pai
6. Jim Behrle
5. Joe Torra
4. Bill Corbett
3. Joel Sloman
2. Jordan Davis
1. Chris Rizzo
It is important to note that certain poets have been excluded, as I have the opportunity to dine with them often.
10.Nick Pimbino
9. Mike County
8. Simon Pettet
7. Shin Yu Pai
6. Jim Behrle
5. Joe Torra
4. Bill Corbett
3. Joel Sloman
2. Jordan Davis
1. Chris Rizzo
It is important to note that certain poets have been excluded, as I have the opportunity to dine with them often.
Ignoring illness working wonders.
The swans in Mill Pond are growing out of their ugly duckling phase. Most of them have shed their brown feathers for pure white but two have gone quite charcoal. Are we set for black swans? I remember one in Cork Loch, seeming to swim against the hundreds of white swans around him.
I am considering crushes. Today is my crush day and I'm not feeling all that crushed. Anybody's game, and bribery is fine.
The swans in Mill Pond are growing out of their ugly duckling phase. Most of them have shed their brown feathers for pure white but two have gone quite charcoal. Are we set for black swans? I remember one in Cork Loch, seeming to swim against the hundreds of white swans around him.
I am considering crushes. Today is my crush day and I'm not feeling all that crushed. Anybody's game, and bribery is fine.
Days of feeling crummy. I'm sick of that. Head still hurts, tummy a bit better. I'm mostly grumpy about it now because me da is back at MGH and if I am sick I can't visit him.
I haven't had a cup of coffee since Friday. This makes me bitter.
In spite of my grumpy bitter crumminess, I am going to have a good day today. If I get everything I need to do done in the beginning of the day I can just collapse and take a nap if I need to. Sleep is nice when you aren't worrying.
I haven't had a cup of coffee since Friday. This makes me bitter.
In spite of my grumpy bitter crumminess, I am going to have a good day today. If I get everything I need to do done in the beginning of the day I can just collapse and take a nap if I need to. Sleep is nice when you aren't worrying.
Thursday, September 18
So tired! A nice tired, though, not grumpy but weary with all that is done. Days are full and long but in the end happy.
I woke this morning with a bit of a woozy head, too much of yesterday yesterday. Mid-week matches tend to get me in trouble. My cider went from the usual size to 20 ounces, and I'm still in the regular rounds. Ouch.
My sister came over with the boys this morning. We overcame our fear of the band saw by cutting out little wooden sheep and a shepherd for her Sunday School class. I don't believe in that stuff but she does. I do believe in helping her. I do believe in power tools. We also found and used hand drills. Big holes to put the posts in, small holes in the posts to thread a fence though. I am amazed at what we finished and want to make more wooden things.
I had my first violin lesson in a long long time today. I am nervous again about reading music. My bow hold and posture are still okay. Nate says my tone is good. My September Resolution is to practice more.
Daniel, Andrew and Noah slept over on Tuesday night. We covered all the furniture in the living room with old Star Wars sheets. Made a big sleep-over haven. I moved the coffee table from the living room into the kitchen. We all sat on the floor for dinner. The chicken took forever. We started with mashed potatoes and green beans while we were waiting. When the bird was finally done the boys tore into it. Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys.
Celtic lost yesterday. Ouch. Marcus Hedman is not my friend. Ben came to see the match and shared some curry chips. Zac showed up after. I like being drunk in the middle of the day. I don't drink all that often during the school year, mostly during these mid-week matches and special events. I like to make it matter.
Couldn't get on to Blogger yesterday or the day before. Oh well. I think it was something to do with my computer and connection. Maybe my absence of several days at a time will add to my mystique.
If not, my cowboy boots will.
I woke this morning with a bit of a woozy head, too much of yesterday yesterday. Mid-week matches tend to get me in trouble. My cider went from the usual size to 20 ounces, and I'm still in the regular rounds. Ouch.
My sister came over with the boys this morning. We overcame our fear of the band saw by cutting out little wooden sheep and a shepherd for her Sunday School class. I don't believe in that stuff but she does. I do believe in helping her. I do believe in power tools. We also found and used hand drills. Big holes to put the posts in, small holes in the posts to thread a fence though. I am amazed at what we finished and want to make more wooden things.
I had my first violin lesson in a long long time today. I am nervous again about reading music. My bow hold and posture are still okay. Nate says my tone is good. My September Resolution is to practice more.
Daniel, Andrew and Noah slept over on Tuesday night. We covered all the furniture in the living room with old Star Wars sheets. Made a big sleep-over haven. I moved the coffee table from the living room into the kitchen. We all sat on the floor for dinner. The chicken took forever. We started with mashed potatoes and green beans while we were waiting. When the bird was finally done the boys tore into it. Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys.
Celtic lost yesterday. Ouch. Marcus Hedman is not my friend. Ben came to see the match and shared some curry chips. Zac showed up after. I like being drunk in the middle of the day. I don't drink all that often during the school year, mostly during these mid-week matches and special events. I like to make it matter.
Couldn't get on to Blogger yesterday or the day before. Oh well. I think it was something to do with my computer and connection. Maybe my absence of several days at a time will add to my mystique.
If not, my cowboy boots will.
So tired! A nice tired, though, not grumpy but weary with all that is done. Days are full and long but in the end happy.
I woke this morning with a bit of a woozy head, too much of yesterday yesterday. Mid-week matches tend to get me in trouble. My cider went from the usual size to 20 ounces, and I'm still in the regular rounds. Ouch.
My sister came over with the boys this morning. We overcame our fear of the band saw by cutting out little wooden sheep and a shepherd for her Sunday School class. I don't believe in that stuff but she does. I do believe in helping her. I do believe in power tools. We also found and used hand drills. Big holes to put the posts in, small holes in the posts to thread a fence though. I am amazed at what we finished and want to make more wooden things.
I had my first violin lesson in a long long time today. I am nervous again about reading music. My bow hold and posture are still okay. Nate says my tone is good. My September Resolution is to practice more.
Daniel, Andrew and Noah slept over on Tuesday night. We covered all the furniture in the living room with old Star Wars sheets. Made a big sleep-over haven. I moved the coffee table from the living room into the kitchen. We all sat on the floor for dinner. The chicken took forever. We started with mashed potatoes and green beans while we were waiting. When the bird was finally done the boys tore into it. Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys.
Celtic lost yesterday. Ouch. Marcus Hedman is not my friend. Ben came to see the match and shared some curry chips. Zac showed up after. I like being drunk in the middle of the day. I don't drink all that often during the school year, mostly during these mid-week matches and special events. I like to make it matter.
Couldn't get on to Blogger yesterday or the day before. Oh well. I think it was something to do with my computer and connection. Maybe my absence of several days at a time will add to my mystique.
If not, my cowboy boots will.
I woke this morning with a bit of a woozy head, too much of yesterday yesterday. Mid-week matches tend to get me in trouble. My cider went from the usual size to 20 ounces, and I'm still in the regular rounds. Ouch.
My sister came over with the boys this morning. We overcame our fear of the band saw by cutting out little wooden sheep and a shepherd for her Sunday School class. I don't believe in that stuff but she does. I do believe in helping her. I do believe in power tools. We also found and used hand drills. Big holes to put the posts in, small holes in the posts to thread a fence though. I am amazed at what we finished and want to make more wooden things.
I had my first violin lesson in a long long time today. I am nervous again about reading music. My bow hold and posture are still okay. Nate says my tone is good. My September Resolution is to practice more.
Daniel, Andrew and Noah slept over on Tuesday night. We covered all the furniture in the living room with old Star Wars sheets. Made a big sleep-over haven. I moved the coffee table from the living room into the kitchen. We all sat on the floor for dinner. The chicken took forever. We started with mashed potatoes and green beans while we were waiting. When the bird was finally done the boys tore into it. Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys.
Celtic lost yesterday. Ouch. Marcus Hedman is not my friend. Ben came to see the match and shared some curry chips. Zac showed up after. I like being drunk in the middle of the day. I don't drink all that often during the school year, mostly during these mid-week matches and special events. I like to make it matter.
Couldn't get on to Blogger yesterday or the day before. Oh well. I think it was something to do with my computer and connection. Maybe my absence of several days at a time will add to my mystique.
If not, my cowboy boots will.
Monday, September 15
I've been on a bit of a blog vacation. Really an internet vacation. My connection at home has been very very bad, kicking me off every time I try to do anything. I haven't had the patience to stick to it. I've done a lot of other things in the time I could have spent grumpily reconnecting.
I'm sorry, everyone who has emailed me that I haven't responded to yet. Soon.
I had a horrific Friday and a good and bad Saturday and a lazy Sunday and a decent Monday. Thursday also happened.
High points of the last few days: P and A's party, knitting a ball and a hat (short rows- gotta love 'em), sleeping lots on Saturday, chocolate ice cream and kahlua, finding the keys I lost a long time ago (months) in the toy box, devoting Sunday to American football and a bad bad movie, getting email from Simon Pettet, getting some good cleaning and reorganizing done, lunch with my Dad (I wish I called him Da... lunch with my Da sounds nice), my cowboy boots coming in the mail and fitting.
Low points of the last few days: My da feeling too sick to stay in Boston for his second appointment, Johnny Cash dying, spilling a bowl of Murphy's Oil Soap on myself (knocked over by a vacuum as I was trying to clean under a table), spiders, my mom's breakdown, feeling cruddy cruddy cruddy all weekend, another fish dying.
Some things are getting done, and I like that. Things with me ma are up and down. Today she sounds very together, makes a lot of sense, seems pretty happy, but reports that the clouds in Rockport terrorized her all day. I can understand how they would. I guess that's fine; being sensitive to the atmosphere is better than being miserable.
I bought a ticket to go to Seattle at the beginning of October. Cowboy booys to wear to Seattle!
I got cider donuts today. Took a back road to get them. On the way I found a big chalk board on the side of the road marked 'free'. I grabbed it for my sister, who is homeschooling her boys and is just about to make a classroom for them. Happy for cider donuts and chalk boards!
I missed seeing so many poets this week. My crush list is just fond thoughts as I sit here. The bad movie I saw last night had a moment in which George Clooney was explaing to J Lo a feeling similar to my butterfly on your shoulder feeling. Here are my butterflies for the week.
10 Aaron Tieger
9 Mark Lamoureux
8 Mick Carr
7 Xtina Strong
6 Joel Sloman
5 Chris Rizzo
4 Joe Torra
3 Gerrit Lansing
2 Mike County
1 Simon Pettet
I'm sorry, everyone who has emailed me that I haven't responded to yet. Soon.
I had a horrific Friday and a good and bad Saturday and a lazy Sunday and a decent Monday. Thursday also happened.
High points of the last few days: P and A's party, knitting a ball and a hat (short rows- gotta love 'em), sleeping lots on Saturday, chocolate ice cream and kahlua, finding the keys I lost a long time ago (months) in the toy box, devoting Sunday to American football and a bad bad movie, getting email from Simon Pettet, getting some good cleaning and reorganizing done, lunch with my Dad (I wish I called him Da... lunch with my Da sounds nice), my cowboy boots coming in the mail and fitting.
Low points of the last few days: My da feeling too sick to stay in Boston for his second appointment, Johnny Cash dying, spilling a bowl of Murphy's Oil Soap on myself (knocked over by a vacuum as I was trying to clean under a table), spiders, my mom's breakdown, feeling cruddy cruddy cruddy all weekend, another fish dying.
Some things are getting done, and I like that. Things with me ma are up and down. Today she sounds very together, makes a lot of sense, seems pretty happy, but reports that the clouds in Rockport terrorized her all day. I can understand how they would. I guess that's fine; being sensitive to the atmosphere is better than being miserable.
I bought a ticket to go to Seattle at the beginning of October. Cowboy booys to wear to Seattle!
I got cider donuts today. Took a back road to get them. On the way I found a big chalk board on the side of the road marked 'free'. I grabbed it for my sister, who is homeschooling her boys and is just about to make a classroom for them. Happy for cider donuts and chalk boards!
I missed seeing so many poets this week. My crush list is just fond thoughts as I sit here. The bad movie I saw last night had a moment in which George Clooney was explaing to J Lo a feeling similar to my butterfly on your shoulder feeling. Here are my butterflies for the week.
10 Aaron Tieger
9 Mark Lamoureux
8 Mick Carr
7 Xtina Strong
6 Joel Sloman
5 Chris Rizzo
4 Joe Torra
3 Gerrit Lansing
2 Mike County
1 Simon Pettet
Wednesday, September 10
I keep waiting until night to write, and by the time I do, I am very tired.
Today I had coffee at the Sunny Day and finished the back of the sage green sweater. I brought Gerrit a piece of pie and cast on for the front of the sweater while he caw-cawed to the crows. Joe arrived and after a brief piano interlude he and Gerrit went mushrooming. I went home.
I cleaned my room waiting for my mother to call. She had left two worrisome messages while I was out. After she called I cleaned my room while I was waiitng for her to come over. I like that slow sort of cleaning that involves sorting through things. It makes me feel like I have some sort of control over my life.
I went to the bank and to get coffee for James and myself. Walked in on a school newspaper meeting. Left the car and sat in the sun by the canal waiting for my sister to pick me up.
We went to the mall. Yikes, the mall. But we had a great time. She left most of her kids playing with a neighbor, so it was just her, Elijah and me. I got cowboy boots (ordered, they should be here this week), Star Wars guys for Noah for Xmas (E. is due to have her 5th in December, so we are trying to get all the shopping and making done early. And the guys were only $1.99 each). I bought a vacuum for my mother for her birthday. And bags and belts. And the service plan for when she breaks it, which she will. She always breaks vacuums. On Friday morning I am going to go over and help her clean.
Back to Gloucester, met James and TJ (just turned 21) at the Blackburn. Drank a Newcastle, then back to my sister's for the highlight of the day: Elijah's first steps!
Today I had coffee at the Sunny Day and finished the back of the sage green sweater. I brought Gerrit a piece of pie and cast on for the front of the sweater while he caw-cawed to the crows. Joe arrived and after a brief piano interlude he and Gerrit went mushrooming. I went home.
I cleaned my room waiting for my mother to call. She had left two worrisome messages while I was out. After she called I cleaned my room while I was waiitng for her to come over. I like that slow sort of cleaning that involves sorting through things. It makes me feel like I have some sort of control over my life.
I went to the bank and to get coffee for James and myself. Walked in on a school newspaper meeting. Left the car and sat in the sun by the canal waiting for my sister to pick me up.
We went to the mall. Yikes, the mall. But we had a great time. She left most of her kids playing with a neighbor, so it was just her, Elijah and me. I got cowboy boots (ordered, they should be here this week), Star Wars guys for Noah for Xmas (E. is due to have her 5th in December, so we are trying to get all the shopping and making done early. And the guys were only $1.99 each). I bought a vacuum for my mother for her birthday. And bags and belts. And the service plan for when she breaks it, which she will. She always breaks vacuums. On Friday morning I am going to go over and help her clean.
Back to Gloucester, met James and TJ (just turned 21) at the Blackburn. Drank a Newcastle, then back to my sister's for the highlight of the day: Elijah's first steps!
Tuesday, September 9
It is so late again!
I had a good day today. Got a lot of things done. Little things, big things, lots of things. Washed the yellow flannel sheets for the guest bed and made it for whomever is next. mopped the kitchen floor. Finished Samantha's quilt and the quilt for Cole. Matched socks. Phone calls and money stuff. Stopped by and did my mother's dishes. Had cappuccino at Cafe Sicilia. Watered the plants. Babysat.
Yestrday I put all of my cotton fabrics for patchwork away in document storage boxes. It fits nicely and is easy to get to now. I have a box of Asian fabrics. Another for juvenle prints and brightly colored fabrics. A box for solids, stripes and dots. One box that has the vintage blue fabrics I have gathered for a quilt, the Hawaiian fabric Babs got me, African fabric and the fairy fabric I am saving for a baby quilt shold I ever have a baby. A box full of calico and flowers. The last is full of fabric that reminds me of fall, beaches, maps and wood.
I may put my beads in boxes next. I have 6 more boxes. I like the way they fit in the closet in the kitchen hall.
I had a good day today. Got a lot of things done. Little things, big things, lots of things. Washed the yellow flannel sheets for the guest bed and made it for whomever is next. mopped the kitchen floor. Finished Samantha's quilt and the quilt for Cole. Matched socks. Phone calls and money stuff. Stopped by and did my mother's dishes. Had cappuccino at Cafe Sicilia. Watered the plants. Babysat.
Yestrday I put all of my cotton fabrics for patchwork away in document storage boxes. It fits nicely and is easy to get to now. I have a box of Asian fabrics. Another for juvenle prints and brightly colored fabrics. A box for solids, stripes and dots. One box that has the vintage blue fabrics I have gathered for a quilt, the Hawaiian fabric Babs got me, African fabric and the fairy fabric I am saving for a baby quilt shold I ever have a baby. A box full of calico and flowers. The last is full of fabric that reminds me of fall, beaches, maps and wood.
I may put my beads in boxes next. I have 6 more boxes. I like the way they fit in the closet in the kitchen hall.
Monday, September 8
Saturday, September 6
According to the Inferno test, you may not want to be my friend. But I was brutally honest.
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Very High |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | High |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Very Low |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Low |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Low |
| Level 7 (Violent) | High |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | High |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | Moderate |
Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test
Friday, September 5
In trying to perfect shopping locally while avoiding the evil Shaws monster I ended up with too much food for dinner. My first stop, IGA, where I got enough for tonight and tomorrow. Haddock, chicken, veggies. Salt and Vinegar chips for when I pick James up, because he will be too hungry, I know.
Then, on the way home, I notice the Pigeon Cove Fish Market is open. I'd never been there, so I thought I should try it. Steamers and smoked mackeral. Couldn't resist.
Driving up past Folly Cove and there are Harry's vegetables. Organic, grown on a ledge hanging out over the sea. James had one of his first good tomatoes from Harry's farm. I don't need tomatoes at all, but I got some anyway. A bag of plum tomatoes, a bag of new potatoes, a big zucchini and two green peppers. Put the money in the little green box. I almost got beets but I don't think James likes them.
Now I don't know what to cook for dinner. Steamers in white wine with garlic and parsley? Haddock done in a similar fashion? Salad, of course, but maybe justa tomato salad with basil. I should cook rice before I pick James up so the rest of dinner is fast. Maybe I'll pick up a bottle of Moxie on the way. That would make him happy.
Then, on the way home, I notice the Pigeon Cove Fish Market is open. I'd never been there, so I thought I should try it. Steamers and smoked mackeral. Couldn't resist.
Driving up past Folly Cove and there are Harry's vegetables. Organic, grown on a ledge hanging out over the sea. James had one of his first good tomatoes from Harry's farm. I don't need tomatoes at all, but I got some anyway. A bag of plum tomatoes, a bag of new potatoes, a big zucchini and two green peppers. Put the money in the little green box. I almost got beets but I don't think James likes them.
Now I don't know what to cook for dinner. Steamers in white wine with garlic and parsley? Haddock done in a similar fashion? Salad, of course, but maybe justa tomato salad with basil. I should cook rice before I pick James up so the rest of dinner is fast. Maybe I'll pick up a bottle of Moxie on the way. That would make him happy.
Thursday, September 4
It is Knitting Night. I am wearinga hipster shirt and hipster shoes. I don't mean to wear the both together but I can't find my loser shoes. The gals may be overwhelmed with my hipness.
Anne Marie baked cookies and is getting abottle of wine before she picks me up. We all need wine and cookies on rainy days. I successfully cheered myself up earlier, a bath and ignoring the phone helped. Made hummus for James.
I knit a swatch of the yarn I bought today; it feels just like I thought it would. I can't find my Interweave Knits magazines. Did I loan them out? I don't know what to knit with this new yarn. If I am good I won't start something new. I'll bring a couple things to work on so I have the option of being good.
Anne Marie baked cookies and is getting abottle of wine before she picks me up. We all need wine and cookies on rainy days. I successfully cheered myself up earlier, a bath and ignoring the phone helped. Made hummus for James.
I knit a swatch of the yarn I bought today; it feels just like I thought it would. I can't find my Interweave Knits magazines. Did I loan them out? I don't know what to knit with this new yarn. If I am good I won't start something new. I'll bring a couple things to work on so I have the option of being good.
Routine 3: yesterday's coffee heated up and egg on toast. My new pants are ridiculously long. Iron patchwork from last night and rush out of the house. Woke up too fast still tired but didn't sleep well anyway.
Today she is in her pajamas. Looking through her purse for the accident information, finding everything as if it were new. Trying to explain how she hit the boy's car: monstrous curbs, a loud honk, her turning startled into his car. Can we stop at the insurance place? No. I called them on Tuesday. Won't do any good.
Tired. My eyes hurt. The rain has pooled into a great puddle by Willowrest in the two hours since I was last there. Onto the highway, Hydroplane Lane. She tells the story of the day her mother died and the dog ate the tube of cerulon blue. Sitting on the floor trying to make the puppy vomit. All the dogs at the vet's howling. They are sad because she is sad. And the vet saying "she'll be okay" but no, Marnie's dead. I promise we can buy paint after we buy cleaning supplies.
At the store she buys two of the biggest size of each thing- does that make the place cleaner? She is drawn to the broken things on the clearance rack. Money in her pocket and still buying broken. I talk her out of it. My boss would say "It's the adult thing to do." Too tired today for this.
Walking in a daze tot he craft store, the rain falling harder and harder. Picking up crap and commenting on it. I don't want a blue t-shirt, I don't want a stretch bracelet. I want to go home. I feel myself getting condescending. I dont want to do that. She buys tubes and tubes of paint. I buy yarn I don't need, because I need to do something. I feel selfish with my time. I want to make the trip partly for me.
On the way home I am hungry. I don't want to eat out but I won't have time to stop at home before work, so we stop at the rest stop in Beverly. Sub with vegetables and chicken, not so bad for me. Coffee and muffin for her. Through the purse again and chewing chewing chewing with her mouth open. I am losing patience, if I had any today. More stories, everything always about her. I try to talk. I'm tired. I am just quiet after a while.
In the car ont he way home The Connection is on, talking about fonts. My mother is a great sign painter. She has designed several type faces in her day. Today hand lettering is nearly obselete. She laughs at the anmes of fonts and recalls her favorites.
At the house I help her bring everything in, unpack the bags. Put the new dish pan and dish drain to use. The black grime is on everything again. It's from the coffee pot, an old percolator. Black from the gas flame. I take time to wash it off, scrubbing years of soot off before going to work. It's the only way. It won't come off my hands and I have to go.
At work now, things not going quite right, and all I want to do is go home and take a bath.
Today she is in her pajamas. Looking through her purse for the accident information, finding everything as if it were new. Trying to explain how she hit the boy's car: monstrous curbs, a loud honk, her turning startled into his car. Can we stop at the insurance place? No. I called them on Tuesday. Won't do any good.
Tired. My eyes hurt. The rain has pooled into a great puddle by Willowrest in the two hours since I was last there. Onto the highway, Hydroplane Lane. She tells the story of the day her mother died and the dog ate the tube of cerulon blue. Sitting on the floor trying to make the puppy vomit. All the dogs at the vet's howling. They are sad because she is sad. And the vet saying "she'll be okay" but no, Marnie's dead. I promise we can buy paint after we buy cleaning supplies.
At the store she buys two of the biggest size of each thing- does that make the place cleaner? She is drawn to the broken things on the clearance rack. Money in her pocket and still buying broken. I talk her out of it. My boss would say "It's the adult thing to do." Too tired today for this.
Walking in a daze tot he craft store, the rain falling harder and harder. Picking up crap and commenting on it. I don't want a blue t-shirt, I don't want a stretch bracelet. I want to go home. I feel myself getting condescending. I dont want to do that. She buys tubes and tubes of paint. I buy yarn I don't need, because I need to do something. I feel selfish with my time. I want to make the trip partly for me.
On the way home I am hungry. I don't want to eat out but I won't have time to stop at home before work, so we stop at the rest stop in Beverly. Sub with vegetables and chicken, not so bad for me. Coffee and muffin for her. Through the purse again and chewing chewing chewing with her mouth open. I am losing patience, if I had any today. More stories, everything always about her. I try to talk. I'm tired. I am just quiet after a while.
In the car ont he way home The Connection is on, talking about fonts. My mother is a great sign painter. She has designed several type faces in her day. Today hand lettering is nearly obselete. She laughs at the anmes of fonts and recalls her favorites.
At the house I help her bring everything in, unpack the bags. Put the new dish pan and dish drain to use. The black grime is on everything again. It's from the coffee pot, an old percolator. Black from the gas flame. I take time to wash it off, scrubbing years of soot off before going to work. It's the only way. It won't come off my hands and I have to go.
At work now, things not going quite right, and all I want to do is go home and take a bath.
Wednesday, September 3
The sewing machine is out and it's not getting put away for some time. I don't expect any guests for a while so I am not fretting about leaving piles of fabric around the house. All around the house. I seem to have lost the front of the quilt for Samantha. That's no good.
I made a new curtain for the bathroom. Put it up and hated it. I like light to pour into rooms. I know some of my friends have rooms that are flooded with light at ungodly hours but with my face waking in a west-facing window I don't have that problem. Sheer dusky-blue makes the bathroom too dark, I think. I've considered making an elaborate beaded curtain but I think Gata would kill it.
I'm thinking of a baby quilt for Cole. Something blue and fishy.
I made a new curtain for the bathroom. Put it up and hated it. I like light to pour into rooms. I know some of my friends have rooms that are flooded with light at ungodly hours but with my face waking in a west-facing window I don't have that problem. Sheer dusky-blue makes the bathroom too dark, I think. I've considered making an elaborate beaded curtain but I think Gata would kill it.
I'm thinking of a baby quilt for Cole. Something blue and fishy.
Another idea for an unfinished project...
Talking with friends this weekend, noting missing ISBN numbers on little chapbooks, I thought of how else books are noticed. Bibliographies! I use them all the time-- Campbell's book on Bowditch, Gosse's Pirates, etc. So I thought I should start an online bibliography of small press poetry publications.
What say you, publishers of poetry? Would you like to be collected into a long list?
Email me.
Talking with friends this weekend, noting missing ISBN numbers on little chapbooks, I thought of how else books are noticed. Bibliographies! I use them all the time-- Campbell's book on Bowditch, Gosse's Pirates, etc. So I thought I should start an online bibliography of small press poetry publications.
What say you, publishers of poetry? Would you like to be collected into a long list?
Email me.
Tuesday, September 2
Morning coffee back to routine 2 with Jim in Lanesville, new boy J.T. christian, no doubt, and John who mumbles that he hasn't seen me for a long time but I gave him a ride last week from the Lanesville Package Store to Willowrest. Read Rizzo's Spiritude, nearly fell off my chair by the time he brought up Moxie what with first and last lines no longer so tied up in eachother. At WBZ newstime 8 o'clock I up and go past the guys in front of the packy up past Judith's house and Ben's and the computer desk on the sidewalk and dill grow out of the crack in the road and everything flowering in the morning mist.
Into my old house with dogs barking and my mother in moon boots I hug her say no to coffee and we start to talk- things are going wrong - I want to tell her not to worry it doesn't matter but it does it all matters. Make a plan when Ralph comes down and talk talk talk like the hum of an old electric type writer buzzzzz with no pause no space for me to talk and I give up blow up what am I supposed to do? I don't have blinders on.
Drive mom's car backto her house check engine light on no windshield washer fluid wipers don't even touch the windshield. Call insurance company call Hamer call opthomologist call doctor call vet call Robert call everyone for my mother. Kitchen is messy with grime from the stove there is no other word for it but grime black and greasy and everywhere. Push it down deep into my toes get rid of dishpan no sponge wash clean dishes again they aren't clean get rid of dish drain try to clean sink wash dishes again and this time a new load. Clean counter of grime and empty bottles and half-full bottles of every kind of thing like lotion and vodka and orange cleaner and flea soap. Throw it all away.
She gives me money and a heart-shaped rock and chopsticks. I try to refuse it all but no use. Ride home car smells of dog. Stop at estate trash pile to look at stuff what might be a rug is fabric wet fabric she gives me some. I take it home to wash it, nice upholstery fabric but wet. Into the wash as soon as I get home.
Upstairs to rest to work I paint my toenails pink and don't answer the phone toenails wet take a bath bake do laundry. I think I'll take a day off from it tomorrow.
Into my old house with dogs barking and my mother in moon boots I hug her say no to coffee and we start to talk- things are going wrong - I want to tell her not to worry it doesn't matter but it does it all matters. Make a plan when Ralph comes down and talk talk talk like the hum of an old electric type writer buzzzzz with no pause no space for me to talk and I give up blow up what am I supposed to do? I don't have blinders on.
Drive mom's car backto her house check engine light on no windshield washer fluid wipers don't even touch the windshield. Call insurance company call Hamer call opthomologist call doctor call vet call Robert call everyone for my mother. Kitchen is messy with grime from the stove there is no other word for it but grime black and greasy and everywhere. Push it down deep into my toes get rid of dishpan no sponge wash clean dishes again they aren't clean get rid of dish drain try to clean sink wash dishes again and this time a new load. Clean counter of grime and empty bottles and half-full bottles of every kind of thing like lotion and vodka and orange cleaner and flea soap. Throw it all away.
She gives me money and a heart-shaped rock and chopsticks. I try to refuse it all but no use. Ride home car smells of dog. Stop at estate trash pile to look at stuff what might be a rug is fabric wet fabric she gives me some. I take it home to wash it, nice upholstery fabric but wet. Into the wash as soon as I get home.
Upstairs to rest to work I paint my toenails pink and don't answer the phone toenails wet take a bath bake do laundry. I think I'll take a day off from it tomorrow.
Morning coffe back to routine 2 with Jim in Lanesville, new boy J.T. christian, no doubt, and John who mumbles that he hasn't seen me for a long time but I gave him a ride last week from the Lanesville Package Store to Willowrest. Read Rizzo's Spiritude, nearly fell off my chair by the time he brought up Moxie what with first and last lines no longer so tied up in eachother. At WBZ newstime 8 o'clock I up and go past the guys in front of the packy up past Judith's house and Ben's and the computer desk on the sidewalk and dill grow out of the crack in the road and everything flowering in the morning mist.
Into my old house with dogs barking and my mother in moon boots I hug her say no to coffee and we start to talk- things are going wrong - I want to tell her not to worry it doesn't matter but it does it all matters. Make a plan when Ralph comes down and talk talk talk like the hum of an old electric type writer buzzzzz with no pause no space for me to talk and I give up blow up what am I supposed to do? I don't have blinders on.
Drive mom's car backto her house check engine light on no windshield washer fluid wipers don't even touch the windshield. Call insurance company call Hamer call opthomologist call doctor call vet call Robert call everyone for my mother. Kitchen is messy with grime from the stove there is no other word for it but grime black and greasy and everywhere. Push it down deep into my toes get rid of dishpan no sponge wash clean dishes again they aren't clean get rid of dish drain try to clean sink wash dishes again and this time a new load. Clean counter of grime and empty bottles and half-full bottles of every kind of thing like lotion and vodka and orange cleaner and flea soap. Throw it all away.
She gives me money and a heart-shaped rock and chopsticks. I try to refuse it all but no use. Ride home car smells of dog. Stop at estate trash pile to look at stuff what might be a rug is fabric wet fabric she gives me some. I take it home to wash it, nice upholstery fabric but wet. Into the wash as soon as I get home.
Upstairs to rest to work I paint my toenails pink and don't answer the phone toenails wet take a bath bake do laundry. I think I'll take a day off from it tomorrow.
Into my old house with dogs barking and my mother in moon boots I hug her say no to coffee and we start to talk- things are going wrong - I want to tell her not to worry it doesn't matter but it does it all matters. Make a plan when Ralph comes down and talk talk talk like the hum of an old electric type writer buzzzzz with no pause no space for me to talk and I give up blow up what am I supposed to do? I don't have blinders on.
Drive mom's car backto her house check engine light on no windshield washer fluid wipers don't even touch the windshield. Call insurance company call Hamer call opthomologist call doctor call vet call Robert call everyone for my mother. Kitchen is messy with grime from the stove there is no other word for it but grime black and greasy and everywhere. Push it down deep into my toes get rid of dishpan no sponge wash clean dishes again they aren't clean get rid of dish drain try to clean sink wash dishes again and this time a new load. Clean counter of grime and empty bottles and half-full bottles of every kind of thing like lotion and vodka and orange cleaner and flea soap. Throw it all away.
She gives me money and a heart-shaped rock and chopsticks. I try to refuse it all but no use. Ride home car smells of dog. Stop at estate trash pile to look at stuff what might be a rug is fabric wet fabric she gives me some. I take it home to wash it, nice upholstery fabric but wet. Into the wash as soon as I get home.
Upstairs to rest to work I paint my toenails pink and don't answer the phone toenails wet take a bath bake do laundry. I think I'll take a day off from it tomorrow.
Morning coffe back to routine 2 with Jim in Lanesville, new boy J.T. christian, no doubt, and John who mumbles that he hasn't seen me for a long time but I gave him a ride last week from the Lanesville Package Store to Willowrest. Read Rizzo's Spiritude, nearly fell off my chair by the time he brought up Moxie what with first and last lines no longer so tied up in eachother. At WBZ newstime 8 o'clock I up and go past the guys in front of the packy up past Judith's house and Ben's and the computer desk on the sidewalk and dill grow out of the crack in the road and everything flowering in the morning mist.
Into my old house with dogs barking and my mother in moon boots I hug her say no to coffee and we start to talk- things are going wrong - I want to tell her not to worry it doesn't matter but it does it all matters. Make a plan when Ralph comes down and talk talk talk like the hum of an old electric type writer buzzzzz with no pause no space for me to talk and I give up blow up what am I supposed to do? I don't have blinders on.
Drive mom's car home check engine light on no windshield washer fluid wipers don't even touch the windshield. Call insurance company call Hamer call opthomologist call doctor call vet call Robert call everyone for my mother. Kitchen is messy with grime from the stove there is no other word for it but grime black and greasy and everywhere. Push it down deep into my toes get rid of dishpan no sponge wash clean dishes again they aren't clean get rid of dish drain try to clean sink wash dishes again and this time a new load. Clean counter of grime and empty bottles and half-full bottles of every kind of thing like lotion and vodka and orange cleaner and flea soap. Throw it all away.
She gives me money and a heart-shaped rock and chopsticks. I try to refuse it all but no use. Ride home car smells of dog. Stop at estate trash pile to look at stuff what might be a rug is fabric wet fabric she gives me some. I take it home to wash it, nice upholstery fabric but wet. Into the wash as soon as I get home.
Upstairs to rest to work I paint my toenails pink and don't answer the phone toenails wet take a bath bake do laundry. I think I'll take a day off from it tomorrow.
Into my old house with dogs barking and my mother in moon boots I hug her say no to coffee and we start to talk- things are going wrong - I want to tell her not to worry it doesn't matter but it does it all matters. Make a plan when Ralph comes down and talk talk talk like the hum of an old electric type writer buzzzzz with no pause no space for me to talk and I give up blow up what am I supposed to do? I don't have blinders on.
Drive mom's car home check engine light on no windshield washer fluid wipers don't even touch the windshield. Call insurance company call Hamer call opthomologist call doctor call vet call Robert call everyone for my mother. Kitchen is messy with grime from the stove there is no other word for it but grime black and greasy and everywhere. Push it down deep into my toes get rid of dishpan no sponge wash clean dishes again they aren't clean get rid of dish drain try to clean sink wash dishes again and this time a new load. Clean counter of grime and empty bottles and half-full bottles of every kind of thing like lotion and vodka and orange cleaner and flea soap. Throw it all away.
She gives me money and a heart-shaped rock and chopsticks. I try to refuse it all but no use. Ride home car smells of dog. Stop at estate trash pile to look at stuff what might be a rug is fabric wet fabric she gives me some. I take it home to wash it, nice upholstery fabric but wet. Into the wash as soon as I get home.
Upstairs to rest to work I paint my toenails pink and don't answer the phone toenails wet take a bath bake do laundry. I think I'll take a day off from it tomorrow.
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