Never Count Sheep

Spring walk around the neighborhood

2010-04-27T18:26:00.003-05:00

A little brunette girl stops at the corner across the street to stare at me and says "hello" at the moment she realizes I know she is staring. I meet up with an acquaintance who I know from all sorts of different things. She tells me about her graduate degree studies. She finally reveals her age, something I've kind of wondered about for a few years now. A young teacher and a young girl smile as they walk down the center of the street, not quite together, but not apart either. They both say hello. The man in the teal Ford pick up smiles and waves. He wears sunglasses and I have no idea who he is, but I wave back. Dora the explorer action figure lies fading on the sidewalk as she has for the last several weeks when I've walked by this corner. At the library a man sits on the bench with the Mark Twain statue, his young toddling daughter banging the literary genius in the head with a toy. The man sitting on his porch nods at me as I walk by. The jogger breathes out "hi" as he sweats past me and I wonder who he might be.

Why not love the Wind?

2010-04-13T11:36:00.002-05:00

It is a memory.
It lifts what we’ve left behind.
It shows us what we’ve discarded.
It belittles our attempts at physical perfection.
It reminds us that we are naked underneath our clothes.
It reminds us of why we have eyelashes.
It makes us gritty.
It forces the earth into our hair and our teeth.
It gives the earth back to us in whatever state we’ve left it.
It makes me love scarves.
It reminds us that everything is in motion.
It reminds us not to stand still.
It makes us thankful for our own girth.
It’s a little like an atmospheric embrace.
It’s a little like an airy kiss.
It gives us reasons to laugh at others.
It gives us reasons to laugh at ourselves.
It reminds truckers that they don’t own the road.
It reminds cars that they don’t own the earth.
It reminds us to spit. It moves the world one granule at time.
It unearths secrets.
It carries scents.
It carries seeds.
It makes its own song.
It taught us to whistle.

Guest Blogger

2010-04-01T00:01:00.001-05:00

Kitten Dreams

I told the small-footed dreamer,
Your hopes are kittens.
Do not pussyfoot around.
They grow into strays
clawing at each other,
begging the small-footed
maven for sour milk.

--Eleanor Abernathy

Elanor Abernathy holds an M.D. from Harvard Medical School and a J.D. from Yale Law School. Ms. Abernathy juggled the trials and travails of two careers for years until alcohol and pain medication forced her to reexamine her priorities. After losing both her licenses, she turned to therapy and discovered her niche as a cat lover. When she is not writing, she collects stray cats. She is founder and editor of the periodical Alley Cat Voyeur which intimately and respectfully examines the lives of stray cats.

I was cleaning house when suddenly the day outside was perfect

2009-09-26T16:34:00.002-05:00

I hope this one doesn't offend you. I saw millions of grasshoppers today. I wish it were an exaggeration. It was a beautiful day regardless of your species.

I need to return to this spot for better pictures. The bus is abandoned much like the swing set, much like many places along the rural roads anywhere on the plains. Something about the openness and the exposure that is familiar. It's so quiet, but in the stillness is the searching for lost laughter.

Camp Kinney or Finney County Game Refuge. I thought you might like to see the place with a little bit of water collected below the dam.

I can't help it. Calves are adorable. There was a lot of mooing associated with this stop.

Cleaning

2009-09-08T19:15:00.002-05:00

Betsy helped me organize my spare room, which is a task that I never did. Not when I moved into my house, not ever. So you can imagine what becomes of a room neglected like that.

During this task I ended up with several random sheets of things that I had written, not for public consumption, but because I try to get things out of me by writing, but I tend to be a pack rat.

I had a couple of untitled lists which after I write this blog entry will likely be shredded. The lists had no explanation or title, which makes one wonder what united the items, 24 on the first list and 7 on another. I figured out what the list of 24 was and I thought I would share a few of them. This one has to do with things that I had learned that year:

9. Things that I considered risky aren't really all that risky.
12. Friends of friends are awesome.
15. Babies are a good way to mark time.
17. I really am a pretty girl.
19. Most people will never realize that I am not telling what I think.
20. Hope requires more work than despair.
24. My personality can be overwhelmed.

The list of 7 for which I have not figured out a uniting theme:

1. I really like the taste of breadfruit.
3. When I bought my purple couch, I was looking for a red one.
4. I pretend to be less paranoid than I am for fear of being accused of being paranoid.
6. The most fun I've ever had dancing was with a cowboy who spoke no English.

I've heard some requests that I blog more regularly, but I haven't really had much to say. I may cheat for some blog entries this way. Sharing what I found on little scraps of paper so that it feels acceptable to pitch that scraps of paper. (Thank God for my new Molskine.)

Pictures from my summer vacation

2009-08-25T20:46:00.005-05:00

Jedidiah Smith Redwood Forest. August, 2009. That's me at the end of the Boy Scout Trail.

This is what I feel like inside when I'm worrying about things. These trees are old. Some are over a thousand years old. Despite the vast age difference, this tree and I found that we had a lot in common. I gave the tree my email address and he said he would find me on facebook.

I waited an hour for this creature to quit hogging the trail and I finally just went around him like all of the rude Californians were doing. I asked him if he needed any help and he acted like he didn't hear me. Anyway, I hadn't met too many snails in my life and this guy made me glad. He was pretty, but he could have at least acknowledged me.

This picture is a little bit dark, but I'm sure you see the face in the tree too. Every time I tried to get someone else to look he would go back to being just a regular tree. He laughed at me for a long time, but I snapped a picture without him knowing. Ha, ha Stick-Boy. Everyone knows about your face.

So if you didn't know, Jedediah Smith died in Kansas near the Cimarron River. There's a marker at Wagon Bed Springs near Ulysses. The historical kiosk at the Jedidiah Smith Forest said that he died near Fargo Springs, Kansas. I had never heard of Fargo Springs, but I found it through the ridiculousness of the internet.

Hello? May I ask who's calling?

2009-07-27T21:58:00.004-05:00

I stopped to take pictures of the phone in the highway. I left it there because I felt it was a sign, but that it wasn't my sign because I hadn't asked for any sort of sign. I was not contemplating something important when I came upon the phone receiver. I imagine someone in the future coming upon the telephone in the road and changing the course of his life. It is possible.
Should I call her back? Should I answer the phone next time he calls? Should I call about that kitten? If God exists, shouldn't he leave phone receivers around when you need to talk to him?

Limitless possibilities of what it might mean, really. And maybe it was my sign, but I won't recognize its meaning for a long, long time.

Sunday skipping church

2009-07-21T22:00:00.000-05:00

Some Sundays are better than others. On this particular Sunday, I ate breakfast with some house guests at a restaurant. The breakfast was not spectacular. My plan was to attend church with my friends, but we had been talking about nature and what not and I decided to go hiking in a new spot instead. So they dropped me off at my house, I packed a quick lunch and headed east.

I try not to let myself get in the habit of finding alternative activities on Sundays since I ought to go to church and worship. But, some Sundays it feels like I've skipped worshiping to go churching, so I suppose it all evens out in the end. And Quivira was awe-inspiring, and I'm pretty certain that God intended that awe and that the awe was as good as singing and listening and shaking hands.

Some things that I learned:
1. I need to get a gazetter, especially if I decide to enter parks from the back way. I wrote the road name in the book I was using so I can enter the back way in the future without the hourlong side trip.
2. The grid system only works if you remember to keep counting.
3. Thank God for "Welcome to Rice County" signs that let me know I was on the wrong road.
4. Selected Shorts is a terrific podcast. (though I admit that not having kids in the car probably allows me to listen to things that my child-rearing peers must forego for a season. The Canoeists by Rick Bass. Wow.)
5. I would really like someone to drive me home after these days so that I can sleep in the car.

If you go, give me a call and I'll bring the insect repellant.

Quivira

2009-07-21T21:30:00.004-05:00

The grass was a beautiful color. And soft. Wetlands are a strange surprise in the area. It seems unfair the way trees take over at any sign of adequate moisture. I was glad the grass won here. Wicked droughts, drowning seeds, random fires. I am sure one of the kiosks explained everything, but I am not into retaining information when there is so much walking to do.
July is sort of the off-season here. These birds get all of the prime real estate without much competition. Zoom is a wonderful thing. They all flew away as soon as I took my next step.

This is interesting, but I do not have enough scientific vocabulary left to explain it. This is the dried mucky mossy stuff left from when the water recedes. When I walked on the grass it made a loud crunching sound under my feet. This stuff must have been underneath everything, announcing me as I walked near the water
I got to walk through all of this lovely teddy-bear fur grass. Crunch, crunch, crunching as I walked. I suspect that Quivira is made for a bicycle. I hope to return with one in the fall. I will always prefer walking, but there was so much to see that much of the time there is spent driving. It would be impossible to walk, but maybe if I give myself two days I could do both.

Glint

2009-07-21T21:20:00.001-05:00

I could not capture it in color.

Jacob's Well

2009-06-22T19:19:00.004-05:00

It's one of my favorite places in the world: a cool hidden pool underneath the shade of the cottonwoods, surrounded by grassland and a buffalo herd. The sky feels like it is a part of you.

a link to an article complaining of blogs.

2009-06-01T08:00:00.002-05:00

An article on blogs versus poetry which has to be linked on a blog.

What is the importance of connectedness? There are days when Facebook and blogging make me feel more connected to humanity and there are days when they make me feel a wide gulf between myself and everyone else. They are valuable for both of those feelings. Yes,this thought is merely a first draft from someone whose thoughts are only valuable to a few. (makes me sound a little bit angry about the article. I'm not. Most of what she says is true, but we assign our own value to things. So in that, she can't possibly quantify the value of either medium for me, and it is for me.)

On the other hand, it's great to express yourself through poetry, your own and others. It's true that there are feelings and events that need expression that won't find it outside of the poetic. So, maybe if you share poetry through blogs and Facebook, you connect on a higher level.

Connections are what they are. Sometimes we wish they were more, sometimes we wish they were less.

Indian Blanket Flower

2009-05-30T12:05:00.005-05:00

After I found the bridge I went to Cimarron Grasslands which was filled with flowers, especially blanket flowers. The hiking there is always funny because you lose the trail as often as you find it. I stepped on a cactus and I got a thorn in my toe. The trail I took is about 10 miles long. The only real places to stop are when a service road intersects the trail which happened once (and did not happen as soon as I would have liked after the thorn in my toe). I hardly made a dent in the ten miles-- I took about 2 miles of the trail before turning around and hiking the same two miles back. The weekend I went it was between 75 and 80 degrees. As usual I didn't see a soul. My one regret about these photos is imagining what they would look like with the dawn's light. I'm going to have to wake up earlier someday.

WPA bridge

2009-05-28T21:20:00.008-05:00

This is the WPA bridge in Morton County. I decided to find it a couple of weekends ago. It spans a fork of the Cimarron. Next time the Cimarron floods we should drive down to see it.
There is a sign marking the bridge so that you know you've found the right place.

This is not the right sign.

This is not the right road. I loosely copied the directions off of this website (my ineptitude should in no way reflect poorly on the website. What I wrote for directions read like this "N. Rich 4 W. 6 then N. Turn at a bridge.") It would be easier if I had GPS, but where would be the fun? This pictured path actually gets worse. Much worse. I wasn't taking pictures during the drive time when I was nearly high-centered. This may prove the point that I ought to have an exploring companion to read signs like NO VEHICLES BEYOND THIS POINT. When I'm alone I completely miss them.

North

2009-05-14T21:50:00.003-05:00

It's been a strange spring. It never seems to be warm on the weekends, but I decided that the spring time hike was necessary. So despite temperatures that were not as warm as I would have liked (though very pleasant) and clouds, I found my way to Scott Park. I posted pictures a couple of years ago with a more detailed account. This time the pictures are for fun, and it's less of a tour.

The yellow flowers are from the top of the little path I climbed. Below is the path I climbed to the
top of the ridge below the top. (Hopefully that makes sense.) You can't really tell from the picture, but the climb was a little bit steep. I don't usually have a desire for the steep climbs, but last weekend I wanted to feel my feet slipping out from underneath me. I wanted to flex my calves and force my feet to stop when all of gravity was against me. I wanted to scrape my hands on the rocks as I searched for my next foothold. It felt good.

Spring

2009-05-14T21:45:00.001-05:00

I'm not sure if I go to Scott Park at the wrong times, but it's never as green as I think it should be. Nevertheless, there were some sweet bloomy moments on the path. I know my hand looks gigantic in the picture, but it's just a regular sized hand next to tiny daisy-like flowers. Aren't they adorable?

Black and White in a Grey World

2009-05-14T21:40:00.000-05:00

There's a bird in the last one. I spent a little bit of time writing. I spent some time getting wet. I took a picture of the dead yucca (which I thought was beautiful) because there weren't any live blooms.

a segue from poetry to hiking photos.

2009-05-12T21:20:00.004-05:00

I went to the grocery store tonight. I brought a list. I brought two tote bags and filled them with lots of produce. I even bought a rotisserie chicken. They apparently go on sale after 8:00 pm or something. I haven't a clue the price of a fresh one, but a manger's special whole chicken is $3.99 if you are willing to wait until it's nearly not edible.

I got home with my items and made some potato-tomato galettes from a Martha Stewart recipe. They were yummy with the cheap chicken. And especially yummy with Shiner's Bohemian Black Lager, which is a favorite at the moment.

So amazing that I've eaten supper including a side from the oven and am now drinking a yummy beer. I think this might be the first successful night of adulthood I've had in several years.

Hopefully I'll be posting some hiking pictures soon. I went to Scott Park last weekend and may go down to Cimarron for the next. I'd like to go a bit farther for Memorial Day weekend... I want to drive a little farther and hike a lot longer. Any suggestions?

Audio

2009-04-28T22:34:00.004-05:00

There are many that argue that poetry is more properly enjoyed aloud. My geographical circumstances have somewhat deprived me of the joy of hearing authors read their own work with any regularity, but when I'm reading something and the words start singing, I read it out loud to myself. I think Shakespeare really sold me on this. There are moments when you read Shakespeare and the text demands to be heard. I thought maybe you would like to listen to a few read by the authors. (The first two may require that you close your eyes and concentrate.)

Friday's Child by W.H. Auden
Riddle by Charles Simic
Forgetfulness by Billy Collins

Sometimes they give awards

2009-04-21T07:43:00.005-05:00

This year the Pulitzer prize for poetry was won by poet W.S. Merwin for his book The Shadow of Sirius. Something that I haven't mentioned because it seems like you should know, is that poets publish books. I keep a journal in my office drawer so that I can write down poets I would like to explore when I have time. Sometimes I go on-line and order a book from a specific poet. When I visit the big cities or small cities, if they have a nice book store I go to the poetry section and look for a new book. It takes a pretty special bookstore to carry a good selection of poetry, but when I find one it's such a joy.

Here's a list of the the Pulitzers for poetry books over the years. And here's a poem from this year's poet:
Native Trees by W.S. Merwin

I was listening to Bookworm on the way home

2009-04-19T21:59:00.003-05:00

Tonight on the radio was a little conversation about Whitman. Here's one of the poems they read:

The Learn'd Astronomer

some of my girls

2009-04-15T19:57:00.004-05:00

Sometimes you find random poems. You will read a "poem of the day" and think to yourself, "I really like that poet." Then you spend the rest of the afternoon reading other things that they've written. These are some of my girls:

A Favor of Love by Molly Peacock
The Enigma by Anne Stevenson
The Riddle of the Shrink by Nuar Alsadir

In translation

2009-04-13T22:45:00.007-05:00

If I started over, way over, I would learn a foreign language at a very young age. Then I would read poetry and translate into English... or whatever language I chose.

When I lived in KC someone loaned me a copy of Garcia Lorca poetry and I had to return it when I left. (There's a side story to that which I wrote and deleted... if you want an odd little quip ask me about it sometime when you see me). I was actually using a lot of Spanish in my job at the time and reading the Spanish poetry sort of helped immerse me more in the language. Mostly, I learned a lot of impractical Spanish words. Practicality was never my thing anyway.

Arbole, Arbole by Federico Garcia Lorca ( I never learned how to do accent marks on the keyboard... sometime someone should show me how).

2009-04-12T22:31:00.003-05:00

It's nearly the end of Easter today. I hope you rejoiced.

Some poems take a few readings before their meanings are clear. Because poetry is a shorter literary form it allows several re-readings. So I give you one that I am still thinking about:

A Dirge by Thomas Merton

one holy one unholy

2009-04-10T09:07:00.001-05:00

A Holy Sonnet from John Donne: At the Round Earth's imagin'd corners
An Unholy Sonnet from Mark Jarman: Unholy Sonnet 11

And here's one for Holdie

2009-04-06T22:42:00.005-05:00

In undergraduate, my creative writing teacher in poetry said once that he would like to have an entire year to teach the poetry creative writing class. First semester the class would memorize poetry and second semester he would let us begin writing. It's been a long time for most of us since we've memorized a poem (though if Ted is your father, I think that isn't so true). It might be a good month to try it. It's good for your mind to challenge it every so often.

Others, at fancy places like the New York Times, are suggesting that you do the same. I'm not sure that memorizing poetry will suddenly make jogging pleasurable, but I am confident it will improve your writing.

So here's the poem my mother made us all memorize:
Fire and Ice by Robert Frost

And here's one for Holdie:
How to Play Night Baseball by Jonathan Holden

A classic

2009-04-02T00:01:00.000-05:00

Who spells Tyger like that? William Blake, that's who.

National Poetry Month

2009-04-01T00:01:00.003-05:00

This article from Newsweek states that poetry readership is at a 16 year low. Remember the hay day poetry had back in 1993? (I write, I don't do math so if I counted wrong on that number, it just illustrates the point that I was reading poetry back then and avoiding math classes).

Here are my personal 10 reasons that you should be reading poetry:

1. It's short. One small poem will take you 2 minutes to read and give you a full day's serving of thought. A long poem can take you an hour to read, but it will probably take you a week to digest. A full week of thoughts!?! Yes, my friends, that is what poetry can do for you.
2. It can express in a few lines feelings that you never thought anyone would ever be able to find words for.
3. It's a quick pick-me-up during your day. You can't sit in the office and read a novel or a short story, but you can click your way to a couple of poems through the internet, read them, and have your day softened, deepened or enlivened.
4. There is a poem out there for everyone. Really. Poems can be plainspoken and straightforward. Poems can be layered and obscure. Poems can be funny or sad. If you want reading about religion, love, moms, death, life, spring, sheep, horses, the devil, war, peace, nothingness... there's a poem waiting for you to find it.
5. Haiku, sestina, sonnet. It can be an exercise in form. But if it's good, it will strike you with its substance.
6. Poems utilize words in every possible way. The sounds, the etymology, the homophones, the euphemisms, the misunderstanding, the spelling, the look on the page of a each word may be a part of the poem-- or not.
7. When a poem is read out loud and it says something great, the room is quiet just like when a great piece of music has been performed.
8. You can't write a novel for an occasion, but you can write a poem.
9. A poem makes you feel the experience just as much as it makes you see it.
10. I just like poetry. I think everybody should like it. I think it's silly that people will spend time reading about whatever MSN or Yahoo puts in its feed, but people don't take a minute to read something as wonderful as a poem.

Hey! Here comes a poem now:

Saint Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnell

In the morning I went to the office.

2009-03-28T10:25:00.000-05:00

Beautiful and Terrible

2009-03-26T22:16:00.005-05:00

There is a possibility of snow. I want to stay awake and wait for it to start, but that seems silly. I could just stare out the window and watch the big elm trees bow and bend in the howl until it starts. Seems like that would nicer than going to bed in anticipation of work. The forecasts vary. Last I checked the low end was 7 inches of snow, the upper end was 2 feet. A 40 mph wind with 7 inches of snow seems like a good reason to stay at home. I remember having to take 15 miles of interstate to get to my job when I lived in a real city. I dreaded the snow so much when I lived there. It was the dread that kept me awake. But now, knowing I'll probably have to go to the office in the morning, I don't dread the snow at all. The short drive might be challenging, but one mile of challenging doesn't cause me to dread. It will be beautiful and terrible if it's what they've predicted. And who can sleep when you know that you might wake up to that.

linda jean recommends

2009-03-06T17:32:00.006-06:00

I have long (whatever that means. the internet hasn't really been around all that long, let alone the website, and I certainly haven't read the website as long as it's been in existence. so it means whatever it means) enjoyed the McSweeney's feature "McSweeney's Recommends" (such a column is hardly original. lots of publications have recommended items, but I guess I actually agree with "McSweeney's Recommends" more than other lists, plus it often has no commercial ramifications though occasionally you may be required to spend some green to enjoy a recommendation). So in homage to McSweeney (though not at all) linda jean recommends:

Walking to Work. It has been an unusually warm winter, early spring, frighteningly dry period which has made it fantastic walking weather. The temperature fluctuations here have reached about 40+ degrees Fahrenheit which means it's a bit chilly in the morning. This has given me an excuse to wear leg warmers. Also, the Christmas ipod occasionally comes along which is great fun, though walking is nice in silence or "street silence", as I like to call it, (or more accurately, as I just called it) is pretty cool too. I see more things and I talk to people on my walk home and it feels more natural. I am awfully lucky to be able to live so near my job.

Coffee. Hardly a new thing, but I enjoy treating myself to a cup on the walk to work. And good coffee is such a good thing.

New Restaurants. I do not really live in a restaurant Mecca so the new additions of a Thai restaurant and Italian restaurant to my town are most welcome and most delicious.

French Movies. Since my trip to France I've been working on learning some French which honestly is difficult and seems like an impossible sort task. However, I started watching French movies as part of that practice. I've seen some fantastic movies: A Man and a Woman, 400 Blows, Jules and Jim, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. I might as well plug Netflix because heaven knows it's the only reason I have any access to viewing these movies.

Lent. Perhaps I can't take credit for recommending it and I know that Ash Wednesday was the beginning so you can't really participate in all 40 days at this point, but preparing yourself for Easter, especially if the holiday has a particular meaning for you is really rewarding. I gave up something for Lent this year that has been a good thing and difficult. I feel the pang of the missing item and it reminds me of the big sacrifice and about how blessed I am. Just what the fast should be.

Yelling at cats. Cats seem to respond to yelling, especially pregnant cats like Lucky, who got yelled at this afternoon when I got home until she scampered away with her bloated, sagging, bulging self. I should have kittens soon, probably lots, so if you need any in your yard to yell at let me know.

Rain. I have been having dreams about it lately. I suppose I am praying for it as I fall asleep most nights at this point so it finds its way into the dream landscape. I miss it dearly. I have been thinking about some of my nice rain memories lately and I'm thankful for them, but I'd like to have a few new ones.

40 days to Easter

2009-02-25T18:30:00.002-06:00

Here's a poem for Lent though the author is Orthodox and they do not follow the same calendar as the western church. Some years Ash Wednesday and Lenten season seem more heavy with things to let go of. I highly recommend letting go.

Shattered.

2009-02-15T21:41:00.009-06:00

This morning was the day after a Valentine's Day of singleness. For me, this means reminding myself that I am worth dating which means hairdryer, hair product, makeup, date-suitable outfit (a good date too, an outfit for someone I want to look good for). None of this lead-in is really that important, but it adds to the tension and frustration of what's to follow.

I walked out to my car in my long brown boots and when I arrived I realized that the back window of my car had been shattered. Nothing had been taken from my car (I know. Who doesn't want to steal Rosetta Stone French I audio cd?) I stared dumbly for a moment and realized I wasn't going to church, which was probably ok because when you get dressed up that nicely for church it makes you wonder why it is you go to church at all. I called the police and went inside. I changed clothes and waited (I read the summer issue of Poetry Magazine).

Young Officer Bo showed up at my door and took down all of the important information all while chewing tobacco. He asked about how long it had been since I had seen my window intact and since I hadn't driven my car on Saturday it had been quite awhile. The he asked if anyone had anything against me.

Here's where I realized I was a bit loopy. After the obvious answers (which if you know me are obvious), my next thought was about those cats. I imagined the cats devising a way to get back at me for interrupting their amorous encounter-- to take revenge for all of the hissing. Maybe, if the whole herd were together and the jumped simultaneously the force would be enough to shatter a window. Who knows what they are capable of? I decided not to tell Officer Bo. But I've got my eye on them, believe me.

Your Valentine

2009-02-14T09:47:00.003-06:00

I can't quite get in the mood this year. So here is a poem with little to offer this special day:

I Know, I Remember, But How Can I Help You by Hayden Carruth

And here's a song and a gondola ride.

Is cat-loving spinsterhood born or is it thrust upon you?

2009-02-02T22:30:00.003-06:00

I do not know if it's that I'm not native town or that I am unaccustomed to the culture where I'm living, but I am getting frustrated with the stray cats. I have my very own herd. There is cat hair on the porch and they have stopped scampering away from me at all. They just stare as if my yard was their home. They congregate under the cedar tree and crouch as though they might pounce on me if I make any sudden movements.

This evening when I walked out to my car Clockwork sat in my path basking in the sun and then slowly stood up and sauntered three feet from me as I was leaving. Hampshire and Icing were sitting underneath the cedar staring. As I drove away I saw a sight that infuriated me. I saw the last straw. I saw Clockwork mounting Hampshire.

I slammed on my brakes and stomped over to the cats and demanded that they cease. It occurred to me that this would mean more cats and that they would be native to my yard if I let this behavior continue. (Does anyone know the gestation period for cats?)

Do town people call the pound about stray cats? Do I start throwing rocks? How can I end the circle of life happening in my yard? Can I put up barbed wire to keep out the herds?

Poetry for the occasion

2009-01-23T13:19:00.003-06:00

I have heard both negative and positive reaction to Elizabeth Alexander's inaugural poem. Some say it sounded too much like prose, some praised it as Whitmanesque. Personally, I thought it was beautiful. You may compare it to the previous offerings.

And yes, this list below is it. Too bad if you ask me.

Miller Williams (yes, he is Lucinda's father).
Maya Angelou
Robert Frost (if you missed Writer's Almanac on Tuesday, the explanation for the two poems was interesting).

If you have any events for which you would like a poem composed, contact your favorite poet and ask about their rates. Most poets will work with you for a reasonable fee.

I can hardly wait for the mini-series.

2009-01-16T23:30:00.006-06:00

I hate talking about politics, generally. People argue and judge you for having thoughts or for not having thoughts and for thinking out loud, but mostly for not thinking exactly like they do. So I am loathe to mention anything that is entertaining in politics, but I thought you should read this.

It's all about the dramatic irony of a particular governor quoting certain poems. I love it. I love the idea of a governor quoting poetry as his ship is sinking because it makes life poetic when it would otherwise be merely filthy.

But it begs a question about politics. Once someone gets big in politics, someone else begins writing his words so that he (or she of course) sounds good. Then you end up thinking about the tail wagging the dog. What is a loyal speech writer to do? Speak sincerely without acknowledging the ridiculousness of everything that has happened? The article presumes that the quotations are made without any one's knowledge and maybe that's true, but what if some guy who is soon to be out of a job and whose resume is going to include "speech writer for crooked man" decides to have some fun.

It seems silly that someone who believes he should represent the people pays someone else to choose his words. It's telling of our society, but also makes you wonder about all of the talented people who are writing stirring words which history will ascribe to another man. It's got to be an odd gig and wouldn't it be a little bit fun to mess with someone who puts that kind of trust in you especially if that person is a jerk.

............................................................................................................

Anyway, I read that Beyonce will sing the first dance song at the inaugural ball. If I were President I would have chosen Bob Dylan I think. Just because it'd be cool. Or maybe Raul Malo because I like his voice. Or maybe Over the Rhine so they could sing their President song.

color me bad

2009-01-12T15:51:00.005-06:00

I am in the process of repainting my house. I live in a neighborhood of little houses from the 40s and 50s which are charming and in my case falling apart. The exterior of my home is aluminum siding and the paint started coming off in sheets following the insane hail storms from this summer. So, after loads of advice (thanks Robert!!), I am getting around to repainting. On Friday, I called the paint store to give my colors to the painter.

Then on Sunday, I parked on the street instead of in my usual niche (carport). From that spot I noticed a house which was pretty much the same colors that I had called in (mine were slightly prettier, but light green and dark green are essentially identical to "mesclun green" and "olympic range" when it's all said and done). This house is across the street from the side of my house. So if you were driving down the street and looked in either direction you would see these two houses. Would a driver say "How tacky!" upon encountering the similarities or would he turn up the radio?

I freaked out a little because I'm not really a native townie. Is it a huge faux pas to paint your house the same color as a neighbor's house? Obviously, it's not a problem if it's white, which most of the houses on my block are, but does that change when it's a brighter, more interesting color? Does it change if across the street is actually pretty far because of the wide streets?

The bottom line is the white and gray have to end. "Edgy gold" is the new "mesclun green".

The mysterious ipod.

2009-01-02T23:00:00.005-06:00

Right now I'm listening to my ipod. Betsy once said that if I wrote a novel about myself that no one would believe the parts about my technological ineptitude, yet those parts are all too real.

For starters I can't figure out how to turn the volume down. It should be an obvious feature, but somehow it is completely baffling me. Next, I am listening to a download which I purchased to start out with just to get the hang of it. I've downloaded before, but never with an actual ipod to put all of the new music on. Anyway, I picked The Avett Brothers' "Gleam 2" because it's an ep and I have a difficult time justifying buying half an album (yes, I "bought" it, but I can't see it so it's different). Apparently I bought it twice. Don't ask me how I did it, but as soon as a song ends it begins again on the ipod. Which leads me to the next mystery: How do I remove songs from the ipod? I couldn't come up with a guess on this one. The little booklet is about as scant as the paint left on my house.

(So anyway, I've apparently been bad about having downtime lately and maybe that's why I haven't been blogging, but here I am trying again. Wish me luck.)

Makeshift costuming

2008-11-04T17:46:00.003-06:00

What do you think this little boy is dressed as?

(Seriously, I dressed him and I was never sure what he was supposed to be.)

Fall photos

2008-11-04T17:45:00.001-06:00

One happy girl and one sad princess (or maybe she is tired of the all the photos).

I know we don't experience the fall foliage as many do in other parts, but some days the sky changes the color of everything all on its own.

Falling asleep at the grocery store

2008-10-07T17:17:00.004-05:00

When I fall asleep there is a moment of conscious thought mixed with dreamy uncontrollable streaming. Lately, I've ended up in the grocery store during this haze. Often, I'm shopping with someone and having an intense conversation. Or I run into someone that I know and they join me in wandering the aisles to pick up the 5 regular items which sum up my normal grocery list. During these trips I generally fall asleep, so, though the conversations are intense (or I feel like they are) they are not so intense as to keep me awake. Anyway, I do not remember the last time I went to the grocery store even for my regular items. ( I think last time the regular items varied in that I purchased goat cheese instead of Colby cheese. And I purchased plums as the fruit item which hasn't been the fruit purchase for some time. Really, I can't remember the last time I purchased plums, but they are really tasty with goat cheese.) (Yes, I did discover this randomly. I was in Hays and a girl who was going to Morocco was copying a bunch of music from a guy who I hadn't ever met until that evening, but he served various cheeses and plums.) So, I guess I was just wondering if everybody has these hazy non-dreams. What are your hazy non-dreams?

hiatus broken by question

2008-09-22T17:05:00.001-05:00

Do insects breathe?

Paris

2008-08-17T13:41:00.002-05:00

The Eiffel Tower was lit up in honor of the 50th anniversary of the European Union.

We chose the hottest day possible to climb the long hill up to the Sacre Coeur. One sign said 38 degrees Celsius. Of course, it was worth every step.

There are pony statues all over town giving Paris the nickname of "Pony Town" (I've never heard it called that until I said it out loud walking in the city, but it's an apt nickname) . The first night that we arrived we walked along the Seine River and kept walking. Every bridge is a little different. No matter how tired we were it seemed like we should keep walking because there was so much to see.
There are a couple of Courtyards outside of the Louvre. This is one in the evening with a classic view.

More in Paris

2008-08-17T13:30:00.000-05:00

The Winged Victory. I actually cried when I saw her. She was everything I had dreamed she would be.

The Mona Lisa.
Spitting fountain.
The Musee d'Orsay. I lost my friends in this museum and took a picture while I was looking for them. I found them eventually, but not using the bird's eye method.

There were real ponies in Paris too.

Using my passport

2008-08-16T17:32:00.003-05:00

I just returned from my European vacation. I wish to share, but where to begin? I have been back a full week (pert near).

This was my first ever trip across the Atlantic. I'm not sure that any trip can meet all of your expectations, but seeing as I had almost none, they were all met.

Truly, I did not know what to expect. My dear hosts were people that I had met through a mutual friend. I did not know them well before my visit and now I have lifelong friends. You can never expect such things. They are gifts.

So what I saw:
1. Strasbourg, France.
2. The Vosges
3. Munich, Germany
4. Paris, France

Things more beautiful than a poem.

2008-07-20T21:57:00.004-05:00

Some poems are mundane moments with something to teach. Tonight I was embroidering a pattern stitch. I stitch unevenly. The pattern at the end is obvious, but far from perfect. Some lines are longer than others. Where I tied off the end too tightly the fabric puckers with no sign of a kiss. I like to think that it's the only way to know that it was done by my hand.

Then there are mundane moments that will never be a poem because they are just lovely. Sometimes life is lovely without teaching you a thing. Lying on my back in the grass on a summer evening at the park, my niece jumped on top of me. Her blue eyes shone and behind her the sky was dusky blue. I thought, "this is why my favorite color is blue".

For scale

2008-07-09T17:10:00.002-05:00

This picture was taken last August. My niece was 2 years old and a little bit scared about walking up to the statue on her own
And here is the two year old with the Texan. I didn't think Margaret's pictures showed you how enormous this statue outside of Oakley is.

2 churches

2008-07-02T22:09:00.001-05:00

Damar's St. Joseph
Pfeifer's Holy Cross Church.

I feel like I should apologize because my pictures don't feel up to par in the exploration of these churches which were also nominated for architectural wonders. I wasn't feeling too well when we went into these places and alas, I didn't even notice that I hadn't turned on my flash in the Damar Church. Regardless, they are both beautiful. Between the two, I do prefer Pfeifer. Ultimately it's probably the same reason that the pictures in Pfeifer look so much better. There seemed to be more light in Holy Cross Church. I am a fan of light. The voters in the contest seem to agree... Pfeifer's church was named among the 8 as was the barn I visited.

Holy Cross in Pfeifer

2008-07-02T22:07:00.000-05:00

The view from the balcony.

The bar in front of the church leading to the alter is made up of some beautiful wood carvings. Jesus appears to be blessing the fishes and loaves. I've always liked that story. (It's the bar where people took communion pre-Vatican 2... does that have a name?)

There's a mosaic of Jesus as you enter the church. We should go back during the early morning and get a picture. There was no way to get a good shot at the time of day I visited.

St. Joseph's in Damar

2008-07-02T22:04:00.005-05:00

This is one of the stations of the cross. My mom saw the artist drawing them when Uncle Monsignor was at this parish.

These pictures are random. I'm very sorry. I didn't get a lot of pictures that turned out at St. Joseph's. Like I said, I wasn't feeling well that day, but I think these pictures give you an idea about what a pretty church it is.

Other moments of interest

2008-07-02T22:03:00.000-05:00

My very own fireworks stand.

We discovered a fun bridge over the Saline River

Damar was decorated to make the French feel at home.

Jen resisted the tempation to ring the bell at Pfeifer, but maybe they want us to ring it. Look at it. We should have rung the bell. (we did accidentally in Damar)
Jen with the lion in front of Holy Cross.

Mary Queen of Peace

2008-06-17T19:10:00.003-05:00

Mary Queen of Peace Catholic Church was also nominated as an archetectural wonder. Perhaps a bird's eye view would capture the parabala shape of the structure. It's defineitely hip 1960's design. If you're a traditionalist, this may not suit your tastes, but it is an amazing structure.

Triangles and Squares

2008-06-17T19:08:00.001-05:00

Once inside the structure I ceased to be overwhelmed by sixtiesness of the building. I thought it was beautiful.
The light that comes in from the stain glass must spill into the room at all hours of the day because there doesn't seem to be a time of daylight when some sunbeam wouldn't be reaching through those windows. It was lovely.
The stained glass is done in squares and rectangles-- symbolically the four gospels?
Triangles-- a symbol for the trinity?

For the Father of Lights

2008-06-17T19:07:00.001-05:00

John Mack Bridge

2008-06-17T07:23:00.004-05:00

Another post-voting 8 architectural wonders of Kansas nominee, Wichita's John Mack Bridge.

It is a lovely bridge. As a bridge it was way too easy to find. We had an address, we drove there. Actually, I think that my navigator knew exactly where it was located without the address.

Carthalite

2008-06-17T07:13:00.005-05:00

The voting for the 8 architectural wonders of Kansas is over, but I still have some places that I haven't posted. One of the nominees was the Carthalite concrete work in Wichita. It's interesting and pretty though from the pictures it looks like the bridge is the coolest of the offerings. It is being repaired at this time and is inaccessible. Above (and below) is the Dockum drugstore building.

Allen's Market Building

Griffin Architectural Office Building.

I didn't go and see all of the buildings and there are several more. It is amazing work. Truth be told however, I prefer exploring in the middle of nowhere. I had a good time especially using a local navigator.

Family Resemblance

2008-06-16T17:21:00.002-05:00

Usually when I'm mistaken for one of my siblings, it's Jeanette. This weekend however, someone asked me if I was Mary. I think you can see how similar we look in this photo.

Father's Day

2008-06-15T13:45:00.003-05:00

This is one of my all time favorite poems and a very nice one for Father's Day.

Fromme-Birney Round Barn

2008-06-11T22:00:00.000-05:00

There is a round barn south of Mullinville that has been nominated as one of the 8 Architectural Wonders of Kansas. Let's go check it out.

The description tries to capture it's wonder, but I'm pretty sure you need to see this place to really understand.

It's not round. It's 16-sided.

2008-06-11T21:42:00.005-05:00

The best thing about not knowing what to expect is the delight of discovering something truly wonderful.

A stall this nice makes you kind of wish you were a horse.

A quiet spot for watching the wind blow.

The barn is a little self-guided tour. You let yourself in, sign the guest book, look around, buy a memento and leave your money in the metal pot.

Some artist views

2008-06-11T21:35:00.001-05:00

"Girl Near Barn"

"Barn Ceiling"

"Dusty Barn Floor"

My list and some poems.

2008-06-02T17:19:00.004-05:00

I keep a list at the office of poets whose work I might want to purchase one day. Most recently I purchased Tony Hoagland's What Narcissism Means to Me on the recommendation of the list.

I started keeping a list when I began my current job because I decided to read at least one poem a day to prevent life from becoming unbeautiful. Life gives me (and you) many, many opportunities to call it ugly. If we choose to focus on the ugly we stop seeing the beautiful. The daily poetry habit is an attempt to combat that. Also, poetry makes me happy-- reading, writing, listening-- it makes me glad. Anyway, that habit became a list of poets. I mostly read/listen to the Writer's Almanac, but there are many other sources for poems and some days I need 3 or 4.

Here are some poetry links for the poet I added this guy to my list: Baron Wormser. This morning "A Quiet Life" was today's poem on the Writer's Almanac.

Tony Hoagland: "Windchime". This is from the book I'm reading and has a lovely layered meaning for me only. It's nice the way writing and especially poetry can give that.

And one from Billy Collins because everyone likes to read Billy Collins. "Study in Orange and White" anticipates some summer sightseeing.

I've been contemplating poetry participation again, but I'm still working on it. I'll make you an offering soon.

The right temperature.

2008-05-19T22:00:00.001-05:00

It's still 84 degrees in my house. Outside, according to my indoor/outdoor thermometer (thanks Santa), it's 69 degrees. I glow with a light perspiration of late evening. The outdoor thermometer compels me to resist the air conditioning. I am. I was cold all day except for my walks up and down the block to and from hearings. I've been laying on my couch reading this evening with the front door open. The languid feeling of sweat without motion gives me cause to be still. Sometimes there are thoughts, but sometimes my mind is empty. It's even empty of preparation for what should be done next. Is there no value in an empty mind? Isn't it a little easier to read when a mind is quiet.

My fan is turned backward in the window sucking hot air out of the house, while I have the door on the other side of the house open. The outside will replace the inside. It's one of those activities I forget about until I am doing it and I remember all of those times that I've done it before. It makes it seem like I've lived a long time and no time at all because years and years ago seem just like today.

Yes, I'm thankful for my air conditioning. But I think I'm more thankful for seasons. Anyway, it's a nice chance to glow.

Emperor Harry Lou Retton

2008-05-18T16:40:00.001-05:00

Hello Harry Lou. Good-bye heart.

His real name in Caesar. I, in an attempt to become the worst houseguest ever, renamed the dog. I am curious however... which do you prefer Harry Lou or Caesar?

Tell the puppy I said hi.

Samson of the Cimmaron

2008-05-05T19:15:00.006-05:00

Exploring again. This weekend it was to Samson of the Cimarron in Seward County. (I recommend clicking on the link. It has some great historical photos and an explanation of what led to its construction.)
The bridge is just off of Highway 54. If you turn off at the rest area west of Kismet and drive north you'll find the bridge. However, I would strongly urge you to approach from the north. You take the paved road off of 160 which is west of Kismet by a mile or two. I'm not sure the name of the road, but since you can see Kismet in the distance, just turn on the paved that appears to be west of the town. The benefit of that road is that you'll get this surprising view of the bridge that is hidden until you come over a rise. It's a shock to come upon this monster. The picture is taken just over the rise.

On the way to the bridge

2008-05-05T19:14:00.002-05:00

This is the bridge over the Cimarron going on Highway 54. I'm on the north side of the bridge. Yes, there were ducks.

From the rest area there are stairs that lead to the river. I was pleasantly surprised by this. I sort of envisioned myself having to climb over no-trespassing signs to get to the bridge. There was evidence that someone was using the land for grazing, but I never climbed over a single fence on my walk to the bridge.

Picturing Samson

2008-05-05T19:12:00.000-05:00

Samson on my head.

2008-05-05T19:11:00.001-05:00

Me and Samson. There's a train on the bridge in this photo. Not much to see, but you should have heard it. I think that I took pictures to keep myself from running away. I nearly started crying because it was so loud and there was a train directly over my head.

As I hiked away from the bridge, another train traversed the bridge. I enjoyed this one much more.

Boys and Girls Renounce the World

2008-05-05T17:17:00.009-05:00

Read first.

Ok. I haven't read the book that's being reviewed and I would bet you money that I could find a million more examples to bolster his conclusions about Christianity and Pop Culture/ Christianity as Pop Culture. I'm also the last person who is going to defend sub-par reading/music just because it's Christian. But this was funny to me. I got to the punch-line of the article mocking sub-par Christian entertainment and he uses a terrible example. "You'll have to excuse us/ we're in love with Jesus" is the song cited as the Christian sub-par punk music. And yes it is sub-par. What they were doing was cutting edge for the time even if it wasn't the best punk music. It humored me that I knew immediately that this is a song off of Undercover's first and worst album. I'm surprised at using it for an example because Undercover's next two punk albums were pretty cool. And then they did "Branded" which was my favorite album in junior high though no longer "punk" and no longer "fun". The author didn't even name the band that he was mocking, which is just lazy. Nor did he mention that this is off of an album that wasn't widely distributed and therefore hardly an example of the franchising of Christianity. There are some great examples of sub-par entertainment marketed as "Christian", but he really chose the wrong band. And I'm guessing we could find some "secular" punk music from the same era that's just as poor.

Lunch time: because the wind is blowing

2008-05-02T12:18:00.005-05:00

Today is crazy. The wind is out of control which, as you know, always lifts my spirits. Some morning items of interest:
1. The police scanner is always on at the office. Scanner item: "Subject driving wheelchair down middle of (4-lane) street. Please respond." There may be some tragic, non-funny explanation as is usually the case with the scanner, but I like to think that the fellow just thought that it would be a funny thing to do today.
2. Another scanner item "Please respond to Law Enforcement Center. Subject's head caught in stair railing." Again, probably not funny for the kid in the situation.
3. At the grocery store, a lady's hot dog buns flew out of her grocery cart outside. It's that windy.
4. This is not funny, but made me happy. Morning music selections on the radio included songs off of two of my all time favorite cds. Cake's "Motorcade of Generosity" and The Maverick's "What a Crying Shame". When morning music is good, it's so good.

I'm sorry if the wind isn't blowing where you are the sky isn't dusty blue.

Memory lapses

2008-04-30T17:28:00.006-05:00

Do you ever have a hard time remembering who it was that you had a particular conversation with? Like I've been thinking about this conversation about Taylor Swift that I had over a month ago. Who in the world would have discussed this with me? I finally remembered. Then, I saw a wasp and had to rack my brain to figure out who it was that I conversed with about wasp versus bee stings. Again problem solved, but I hate those moments of memory without context.

Add this problem to all of that: I have a lot of conversations in my mind with all sorts of people. Sometimes I can't really remembered what has actually been said and what has only been said in my mind.

Then there are the pretend events that occur. Like a couple of weeks ago, I slowed down on the highway to turn left onto the blacktop when my car was attacked by a band of gypsies (no offense to real gypsies, who have never to my knowledge committed any sort of crimes along highway 83). They sort of looted my car there on the highway. Then I tell someone about it and I remember to add that it happened in my mind. But later, I might forget that part and disparage the reputation of a beloved highway and a people group that don't even live in the area.

Then there are the dreams. Like the one where that kid from creative writing class tells me about how one of my friends is a crazy drug mule on the border now. Sometimes it feels like the dream really happened and I want to talk about it, but I don't want to talk to a real person about it because I don't want to call someone a drug mule just because I had a dream about it. So I have a fake conversation with a person who is real, but isn't actually present. Then a few weeks later I forget that I only pretended to have a conversation with this person so I mention the drug mule thing without thinking. Now, I've spread a crazy rumor.

Does anyone have any strategies for dealing with these types of situations?

Personal affirmation that I look good today because it's unlikely that anyone will tell me and even if they do it won't really matter.

2008-04-30T08:19:00.005-05:00

This isn't a real post, but it is such a shame that I live alone. I look amazing this morning. It will probably be frazzled away by the day and no one at work will care, but I just thought you should know. I'm even wearing high plains hair sans a scarf and I still look amazing. What a waste!

The longest to-do list I've ever written

2008-04-26T08:40:00.004-05:00

I've got a huge to-do list today:

1. Finish Everything
2. Do laundry

I better get on it.

Lunch time random requests/thoughts

2008-04-22T12:06:00.008-05:00

I need assistance in the music department again. I need a spring summer mix with upbeat tunes. Nothing melancholy. All hopeful. Nothing depressing. Nothing that reminds me of anything depressing. Please advise via comments.

I've read a couple of modern literary novels recently. Sometimes I feel like I just shouldn't do that. As with most novels, there is an exploration of love through plot . These novels make me think that maybe I think too highly of love. For heaven's sake, shouldn't we want to move heaven and earth to have and keep it once we've found it? And if we aren't really willing to do that, can it be called love? Do modern characters speak for humanity? Have we decided that instinct is a value greater than all others? That love doesn't require anything of us? (sidenote, that rant made me think of the Kundera novel, "Identity". In the light of my rant, it's really a good novel.) (I guess I don't mind when novels present this type of behavior, but I hate when it's presented without any critique of the characters.)

I realized that maybe the flimsy portrayal of love in novels is why I'm not a fan of romances in general. I was trying to remember moments in novels where love seemed real and I thought of "Anna Karenina" and Levin waiting for Kitty to give birth. Then I thought of the way the Kundera novel ended. I'm wondering if you have any novel suggestions where love's depths are actually expressed.

Ennui. It's a great word an a horrible feeling. I remember looking up the word in the dictionary while reading "Pride and Prejudice" as a young teenager. The word appeared in an article this week and then made it's way into a revision of a poem and then made it's way into my head. Luckily the thought made me cry. As long as I'm able to do that I don't feel completely detached in an ennui sort of way.

Can everyone please quit using the phrase "brain fart"? 1. It's crass. 2. It doesn't make sense. 3. Every time someone says it I try to figure out what that physically looks like in the anatomy of the brain and I just stop listening to the person who said it.

I ought to figure out what to eat for lunch. Salad? Probably.

Sorry that I talked about novels during national poetry month, but it feels strangely poetic to do so.

P.S. You really ought to say a little prayer for me.

like a tulip

2008-04-13T10:04:00.000-05:00

Spring, yep.

2008-04-12T16:30:00.004-05:00

Spring chills. The sun is shining now, but not quite warmly. I sat on my porch reading with my hair exposed earlier this morning in the hopes of returning to summer blond. I like my natural hair color, but everything is better sunny.

Spring dreams. My dreams are vague except during the spring. Then they are specific. Even in their specificity, they fail to guide.

Spring prays. Everyday I ask for God to give me something good. Some days I wonder if He understands what good means. Then I realize that I don't know what good means.

Spring rains. The soil is dark brown again and the flowers looked pleased. The earth begs me for some new seed. I don't know what to give.

Spring Aprils. I try not to think of it as the cruelest month, but once it's in your mind that way, you can't help but find all sorts of ways that it fulfills the prophesy. Maybe April can be the coolest month (as in hip not Decemberish).

Spring stays. One day you stop fearing the cold because you know it won't last. I look at my sweaters and wool skirts and realize that I will have to settle into a different wardrobe. I am wondering what I'll wear next. And I wish I could be brave like a tulip.

blog tagging (it's like freeze tag only not at all)

2008-03-26T22:00:00.002-05:00

Pondering Hope (isn't that a nice blog name?) tagged me, or in layman's language, politely requested that I share about the book nearest to me at the moment I read the tag.

The instructions: 1. pick up the nearest book (No cheating! Don't try to be cool and find something spectacular. It must be the book in closest physical proximity.) 2. Turn to page 123. 3. Count the first five sentences and then 4. write down the next three sentences:

"It's a wonder you didn't suspect me," I said.

"You're a little too innocent for that yet," my father said affably. "But it won't be long..."

The book was off the free table at the library and is called "The Magic Lantern" and it's written by Robert Carlson. I've never heard of it either, but it came home with me because it was next to a free Walker Percy novel, an author I had heard of and who I had planned to read one day. I haven't decided about reading "The Magic Lantern", but it has a very promising title. At first I was afraid that the nearest book would be my thesaurus, but as luck would have it (or maybe it was magic) "The Magic Lantern" was sitting in the chair next to me.

Much like an email forward that never wants to end I continue this tag by asking Shauna and MALH to share.

Making Easter Dessert

2008-03-24T19:53:00.007-05:00

Locate a Logan County Recipe Book. Go to recipe for "Jenny's Delicious Desert". Create list based upon "ingredients" in recipe book making allowances for the penciled in changes which are important since you aren't making Jenny's Delicious Dessert, but another dessert which is called by the family "Awesome Easter Dessert", but which goes by some other name unknown to the family and therefore lost in whatever magazine or recipe book it was first made for the family at Easter. Also substitute the word "walnuts" for "pecans" because you like them better. Grab tote bags and head for the grocery store.

Buy all the listed items. At the nut section, ponder the amount of nuts required because you failed to write a quantity on to your list. Recall the bag of walnuts which you recently threw out of your freezer and assume that you had too many last year. Based upon that, purchase only one 1/2 cup bag of walnuts. While checking out remember to say, "I brought tote bags." Feel very cool in spite of teenage sneer on the bag girl's face. Go home feeling cool about list usage and tote bags.

Take care of work related business. Receive phone call saying that Quesadilla Saturday is on and that you will be fetched shortly. Eat quesadillas.

Stop and see game-watching sibling. Discuss game viewing plans.

Return to house to begin making dessert before important basketball game. Get out ingredients and reread recipe. Realize that the recipe calls for one cup of pecans and you only have a half cup of walnuts. Consider using lesser amount in crust portion of dessert. Determine lesser walnut amount is unacceptable. Realize your pan is at your mom's house. Consider waiting to begin until you retrieve pan. Determine that it is not an option. Besides you've always wanted one of those Pyrex pans with the plastic lids. Purchase walnuts and new Pyrex pan.

Begin following recipe. Remember to preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put crust in pan. Place plan in oven and set timer. Oops. That knob isn't a timer. Set timer with correct knob. Heat up coffee and milk mixture and sit for 15 minutes sipping coffee because you don't have time to make next layer of dessert and get to game watching location. React to ugly buzzing noise from oven by removing pan. Realize pan and oven are cool. Look at knobs. Realize original knob turned was one that was turned from "bake" to "off". Curse. Leave unbaked crust in oven.

Begin driving car. Have idiot throw caramelly frappucinno-thing at your car. Curse.

Retrieve game-watching family member and watch disappointing basketball game. Enjoy(?) elk roast. Visit with family members until 10:30ish. Return home around 11:00.

Cook crust. Begin preparation for next layer. Realize list omitted cream cheese. Go to store and get cream cheese.

Follow modified instructions. Chill.

Wake up late. Arrive at church 15 minutes late. Go to parents' home for lovely meal. Serve dessert and enjoy.

Draft: A User's Guide

2008-03-18T12:09:00.004-05:00

I am currently working to develop a user's guide for linda jean. These are guidelines so that perhaps my users will be able to get full enjoyment out of their time with linda jean. I will probably be revising this and will gladly accept any suggestions and requests for clarification:

1. I don't like to argue. If we are arguing I am unhappy. I won't argue about closely held beliefs and it is senseless to argue with me about loosely held beliefs or thoughts I'm expressing. I talk to figure things out not because I've figured things out.
2. I sometimes defend other people's beliefs whether or not I personally believe them. I strongly believe that everyone should be able to have their own point of view and if you disagree with someone you ought to at least try to understand where it is they are coming from.
3. I think that you don't like me. I know you do, but I am insecure. It is a fault that I have accepted will be a lifelong struggle. I am working on it.
4. I want to be cool and I despise that. There is no honor in being cool, but I really like being cool. Even if I think you're cool, it doesn't mean that I respect you.
5. I hate it when people tell me things about myself. I know it's just part of life, but I wish people would at least pretend to want to get information from me. You can ask me about topics if you want to verify the information, but please don't say, "so I hear you're having a rough weekend", or "so I hear you're flying to Paris." I would be much more comfortable if you asked me about my travel plans or asked me how my weekend was going. I'm not sure if this is a reasonable request, I'm just saying that if you want instructions on how to get the most out of your linda jean, it would help.
6. I'll probably never tell you what I think unless you ask directly and even if you do ask I might not tell you, but I won't lie. I really appreciate when people notice that I haven't voiced an opinion instead of assuming they know my opinion based upon my silence.

That's all for now. Look for revisions in the future and let me know if you are interested in instructions for a particular topic.

Crazy

2008-03-08T08:40:00.000-06:00

Willie.

When you miss the announcement that Willie Nelson will be in concert locally because you don't listen to the local country music station, and all of the tickets sell out before you hear about it, and someone calls to tell you that they are selling standing room only tickets, you should definitely buy a ticket. You should stand up for a couple of hours and dance a little bit. You should sing along when you know the words. You should definitely go.

Blog as advice column

2008-03-06T07:26:00.002-06:00

Dear Blog:
I am working hard to be a typical female. However, I still feel a disconnect between myself and those in my daily life. Though there are a few in this world that I relate to with ease, this is not a daily occurrence. Is feeling typical an unattainable goal? Does everyone seek to feel typical and fail or is there a group somewhere that achieves feeling typical? Is there a substitute feeling that I should be seeking?

Thanks.

Poetry and Politics

2008-02-28T21:29:00.003-06:00

I enjoyed this link-- politicians commenting on poetry, poets commenting on politics. No need to make political comments.

Unrelated:

2008-02-23T23:30:00.002-06:00

I'd like to boycott Old Navy because the girls in the commercials are too skinny, but I feel guilty because maybe they were just born that skinny and who am I to judge whether or not that type of body is beautiful or not.

I'm taking a creative writing class. I had forgotten all about writer's block. I am trying to figure out when I do my best writing and it seems as though it's all completely random. The only pattern I've found is that I write most easily when I'm in my office working on something really important that needs to be finished within the next hour. At that point my pen and my mind flow freely about topics wholly unrelated to work. Perhaps if I hung a poster of wild dogs chasing me near my computer it would help.

Have you ever been chased by wild dogs? I hate it. I hate thinking about riding my bicycle and having to kick them away with my feet as I try to pedal as fast as I can.

When I looked up boycotts of Old Navy on the internet most people talked about the outrage of not being wished "Merry Christmas". WWJD? He'd refuse to shop there because they forgot his birthday. I think he might ask their models to come and sup with him too-- a big meal.

In my dream life I am growing my own food and sewing my own clothes. My dream life seems foolish. Why is that? Except for meat. I'll visit the butcher for meat. I wonder how much produce I would have if I planted my yard to vegetables instead of grass. I'd like to grow some flowers too. I barely have time to do what I'm doing let alone raising produce to support myself. Wait...in my dream life I don't have a real job.

If a dream seems foolish is it really your dream?

Fortunately, I am hours from an Old Navy. My yard is too small to grow enough food to sustain me. Even if I did grow my own food I don't really cook. I haven't sewn an article of clothing since I was 12 for 4-H and I think I got a red ribbon for it at the fair. I did bake some cookies that got a purple at the local fair and at the state fair. I'm sad that I thought about wild dogs.

A Dream

2008-02-16T10:32:00.002-06:00

I had a new dream last night. I am completely baffled. It seems full of symbolism, but I can't figure it out.

I dreamed that I woke up (that's my favorite beginning for any dream-- so disorienting in its banality). I walked from my bedroom to my back door and opened the door. There was a second door. I opened that door and there was a third door. It opened to the outside just like it should except my screen door was gone (no great loss. I need to replace that screen door anyway). The doors were slightly different than my current back door in that they had no windows. They looked just like my bedroom door-- painted white, old doorknob with a skeleton key lock. Outside, it appeared that someone had picked up. My bushes tend to catch trash from the wind, but someone had picked up trash. Near the lilac bushes, however, there was a box of Cheerios. I walked to it and inside were wads of cash at the top. Underneath the wads of cash were a few mini-boxes of Cheerios. (A note on the foliage-- everything was arrayed just as it is currently. There was not any snow outside and the lilac bushes were leafless and budless).

Let me know what life changes my subconscious is attempting to communicate in my sleep.

A Valentine.

2008-02-13T22:30:00.004-06:00

This is for the wooing, the wooed, the won, the wishing, the wondering and the watching. Some poetry...

From William Stafford... A Passing Remark

From Sara Teasedale... The Old Maid

From Lawrence Raab... Marriage

From ee cummings... i carry your heart with me

From John Donne... The Good-Morrow

From William Shakespeare...CXVI

8 wonders

2008-02-12T07:01:00.001-06:00

I'll chalk it up to too much happening. I completely forgot about the announcement for the Eight Wonders of Kansas. It was announced on Kansas Day. Probably around the same time they were announcing that Willie Nelson tickets were going on sale-- and probably announced on a media outlet I never hear or view. I need to reassess my media intake or maybe complain to my chosen media outlet.

I haven't actually been to the National Tallgrass Prairie Preserve, but I used to drive through that area all the time. I also drive through Cheyenne Bottoms all of the time, but this spring I'm hoping to spend some time. Truthfully, I haven't ever been to the Big Well. I know. I'm fairly certain I will never visit it on an alone trek because I'm claustrophobic and scared of the dark; I've always imagined the well as dark and skinny. I've also never been to the salt mines. I'm disappointed by the Cimarron Grasslands not making the cut, but it is in the corner and the wonders were chosen by popular vote. It's the trouble with democracy: people vote for non-wonderous reasons. (No offense to the winners-- they are all deserving).

Friday with Shauna

2008-02-10T14:35:00.000-06:00

I highly recommend leaving work early on a Friday and having lunch at the Pizza Hut in Oakley. You should meet one of your dear friends from college and order a pepperoni and cheese pizza to share with her two daughters. Then you should take them to the Fick Fossil Museum.

Fick Fossils

2008-02-10T14:32:00.000-06:00

This was found in Gove County near the Pyramids/Monument Rocks. You can't really tell from the picuture, but that head is about 2 feet long.

Northwest Kansas and its prehistoric fishheads...
He's about 5 feet long.

Fick Art

2008-02-10T14:25:00.000-06:00

Sorry that kitty is fuzzy. It's the only photo that I took and she really was one of my favorites. The kitty has some 3 dimensional aspets that may not be apparent in the photograph-- bee's wax was used in some of Vi Fick's artistic creations.
These are examples of fossil art on black velvet.

A Kansas museum would hardly be complete without the Great State Seal-- and this one incorporates fossils.

I have to say that the art actually impressed me. I don't remember it from my childhood visit to the museum, but I think it's amazing when someone creates art from the things which surround her. It must have been so much fun to make that kitty in the bonnet!

Re: your political aspirations

2008-02-08T23:00:00.000-06:00

I understand why one might need to play one Toby Keith song during the "stall for time the campaign is running late" music. Toby has a few patriotic type of songs that have mass appeal and I could have forgiven using those songs as a necessary evil, but "How Do You Like Me Now?" is not one of them. (I get the joke, but that song is so awful...) I went on a date with a guy once who said that he loved Toby Keith. I knew immediately it would never work out between us. Is that the message that you want your pre-arrival music to convey?

PS Props on the attmept to find an appropriate Kansas song... I had to verify with my hairdresser that I was right about the band. I'm not even sure what that song was, but we both agreed that it was Kansas. "Carry On My Wayward Son" would not have conveyed the right message.

Re: your recent email

2008-02-07T21:33:00.000-06:00

I received an email today from an application on my social utility network (Facebook). The email wanted to know if I had finished reading a particular book. The application is one that allows me to display the books I have read or am reading on my profile page. I haven't had a single human being ask me whether or not I have finished reading this book. What does it mean when a system generated email starts making enquiries of me that no real people are making? (And the email seems genuinely interested).

There is a degree to which all of this is just talking to myself. Blogging and social networking are pretend-- sometimes they can become real like the Velveteen Rabbit, but usually it's a lot of throw away germy nonsense.

Just so you know, I will never "finish" reading Anne Stevenson's "Poems 1955-2005". I've never "finished" reading a book of poetry. I rarely read the poems in order and I have no way of knowing that I've read them all until I become so familiar with them that I feel that I could request that the poem be a "friend" on my social utility network.

Thank you system generated application email for asking. You are always so thoughtful.

ps where is the stinking spellcheck? and here's an inappropiate apropos link.

Happy Kansas Day, Happy Explorer Weekend

2008-01-29T22:09:00.000-06:00

I tried an experiment this weekend by bringing along a companion for one of my exploring adventures. The day was windless and warm. Perfect. And my companion, or brother, had his navigation device that allowed us to visit other bridges by a more direct path. My plan was to go back to the highway after every bridge so that I could regain my bearings. Below are two of our sites, though there were 2 other bridges that we visited. It's different having a buddy, but it's nice to have another set of eyes and another set of thoughts when you visit a new place. I think having someone with me made me more adventurous and more apt to climb in places that I may have otherwise hesitated.

Stoecker Bridge

2008-01-29T22:04:00.000-06:00

The bridge is a WPA project and I was inspired to go and find it by a piece on HPPR ( if you're interested the podcast is the one entitled WPA projects) which replayed as we drove to it. The picture is a little bit washed out, but the black and white picture was better than the color ones.

My companion in the arch. One arch had water flowing (mostly frozen) and the other side was dry.
This is the bridge and the brush from the other side.

We took turns picking up this block. We estimated that it was 90 pounds based upon my ability to move it, but not lift it and Matthew's ability to actually raise it off the ground.

Ness County Bridge

2008-01-29T21:39:00.000-06:00

We found the other bridges to visit using a historic bridge website. This spans a fork of the Pawnee River.

There were a few of these little bridges in a single arch around the area too. We also found what looked like an old school with a WPA sign on it.

Happy Birthday Jeanette

2008-01-28T17:38:00.000-06:00

And a belated happy bday to Jonathan!

You're making me dizzy

2008-01-22T12:31:00.001-06:00

I'm at home for lunch which I haven't eaten yet. Instead I am writing to you. Is it possible for a song to make you dizzy? I have put number #3 from the current Paste cd sampler on repeat. I did this yesterday and so anytime I get into my car I'm listening to a song possibly called "Carousel" possibly by a girl named Sydney. I can't really know for sure because the cd jacket was an invisible piece of plastic that I can see because of my magic powers. As for evidence of being dizzy I walked into a door today and hit my cheek very hard. I tried to turn the door handle, but I missed and my body kept walking even though I hadn't actually opened the door (you are possibly wondering why I didn't just walk through the door. I can turn my magical powers on and off at will. I usually leave them off while I'm at work in order to ensure that I'm on an even playing field). Also, I fear that I have failed to finish my homework assignment for today. I am taking my first class since I got that JD thing. I can't find my syllabus because I keep remembering to take it places with me and then I don't look at it when I'm in those places and I leave those place along with the syllabus. Anyway, I may have to go out of "hibernate" mode this afternoon at work in order to stop time and finish my homework. I am afraid that this leaving behind of things that I need is also a symptom of the dizziness caused by listening to #3 on repeat. I am not tired of listening to #3 and don't want stop if it is not the cause of my problem.

Has anyone had any experience with song-induced dizziness?

PS #3 also confirms that I am attracted to circus music.

A Wild Phantom Identity

2008-01-17T07:27:00.001-06:00

I haven't had a participation blog in a long time. Due to the fact that the last three books that I've read are about as different as books can be, I thought I would make a list of lessons from the books and let you guess which book belongs to the corresponding lesson.

1. Instincts are a heritage.
2. Games can ruin everything even if they are kindly intended.
3. Leaving your man is essential to fully realizing one's potential.
4. Knowledge is senseless without rhyme and reason.
5. London is too weird to be real.
6. There are too many things to learn and to see to ever be bored.
7. Useless tasks are the thief of time.
8. Dogs are a good companion.
9. The person who knows you best still doesn't know you.
10. Dreams can be very long or very short.

Your book choices are: Identity by Milan Kundera, The Phantom Toolbooth by Norton Juster, The Call of the Wild by Jack London. Write down numbers 1-10 and next to the number write down the correct (or your best guess) book which taught that lesson.

P.S. thanks to Dad and Spencer for the reading recommendations. You were right, TCOTW and TPT were great reads. Also thanks to the thrift store in Arizona for the $.50 copy of I, I'm still trying to decide what I think about it.

A day for the unprejudiced heart

2008-01-16T07:18:00.001-06:00

I was looking around Youtube and the web in general so that I could listen to a particular song this morning. The song is a wish for a nice day from someone with an unprejudiced heart. Anyway, I picked this random girl singing the song in her room with the guitar, because it works a lot better as a "love" song when the high pitched mice aren't singing and isn't love part of a good day?

"If I had words to make a day for you" . (I didn't actually watch the video so much as listen to the song. I don't really like to watch people singing in their rooms, but this is pretty).

Today should be less terrible than yesterday. I don't have anything emotionally draining scheduled.

p.s. oh yes, the movie is "Babe".

You can't reach me

2008-01-15T12:12:00.001-06:00

I speak often of needing the sunlight. Today I need the clouds. I need them to confirm the struggle of everyday life. Instead, it is sunshiny and beautiful and everything happening today conflicts with the sky's message.

Tonight it may blizzard. The kind with crazy winds and paltry amounts of snow; just enough to ruin vision and slicken steps. Perfect. If I'm going to feel like I can't see far enough, I would like to not be able to see far enough. If I'm going to feel like I've fallen I might as well stumble.

(or maybe I'll just eat a little lunch, regroup, wipe the tears from my eyes and enjoy the afternoon before the storm... I guess we'll see).