My day in list form

(beginning with the first memory of the day)
1. Did hair at 2nd stoplight on the way to work.
2. Got a cup of coffee from the basement at work.
3. Pondered whether the list could be used as a poetry "form".
4. Stared resentfully at in-box, the physical in-box not email.
5. Took out M. Ward and switched to Spoon in the hopes of making day more lively.
6. Read about possible candidates for attorney general.
7. Talked to Watson about crime without using the word "elementary" which was a disappointment.
8. Cut someone's birthday cake without her presence because I wanted coffee with my piece of cake and her email said we could "dig in".
9. Sighed heavily reading new legislation.
10. Pondered desperation and its link to crime.
11. Wondered if outline wouldn't make a better poetry form than list.
12. Admired birthday girl's orange roses.
13. Ate omelet with swiss cheese, tomatoes, onions, and mushrooms for lunch.
14. Came out as closet environmentalist to co-workers.
15. Threw away letter for reception to be held after work and realized that our office must not recycle.
16. Called _________ and ___________ about ____________.
17. Discussed conspiracy theories or rather theories of conspiracy.
18. Tried to clean desk, but got bored after putting first book away.
19. Sang "Halloweenhead" repeatedly in head and decided maybe I should quit listening to Ryan Adams.
20. Was offered trade in fantasy football which was withdrawn before I read it.
21. Wondered to whom itunes email regarding new music from Kenny Chesney and Lyle Lovett was aimed and realized it might be my boss.
22. Thought about how Lovett and Chesney both had oddly short marriages to actresses.
23. Walked to a secretary's desk multiple times for "red vines" candy.
24. Thought about various ways to use string in collage projects.
25. Called to get dates of birth for several co-conspirators.
26. Thought about the death penalty.
27. Signed name 14 times.
28. Kept list during work hours.

Change like a cinquain

A non-commenting reader requested another round of poetry so I wrote a self-contained cinquain. It's a lot like a haiku. I didn't really follow any of the iambic rules, so feel free to ignore them here too. I put the required syllable number next to the line. My cinquain is in honor of some lovely guests that I entertained at Casa Linda.

Visit (2)
A name you know. (4)
Strangers become my friends. (6)
I show you my hometown, my place. (8)
Your turn. (2)

It's easy. Syllable lines are 2, 4, 6, 8, 2 .

I acknowledge that you probably need a theme to jump start the creativity. People complained that the last poem was difficult because I offered no topic. How about we make the theme: "change"? Summer is finishing its season with us, things will be changing soon and it suits the poem I have offered. The cinquain link offers some standards about parts of speech if that would help you, but do not feel obligated to follow those.

This entry is about clothes.

I love having a story ready. Especially about clothes because I have too many and it's a little embarrassing from a minimalist-philosophy-pursued-through- simplistic-living point of view. Today I was ready with lots of stories. "I really like that blouse. The color is very becoming." "Thank you. I found it in a thrift store in Oregon while shopping with with my sister. It's got some sort of original tag in it from a boutique in Hollywood, California." Usually I cut these stories short depending on the audience. The blouse, by the way, is white with a green leopard-type spots. In real life that conversation ended at the thrift store in Oregon, but here, I have no need to mercifully end my ramblings.

The story of the outfit continues including the patent leather shoes I was wearing today which were found in a thrift store in Arizona. I speculate that they were bridesmaid shoes for a wedding without a dance based on their style and amount of wear. My black skirt was purchased from my own local downtown, something few care about to the degree that they should (I'm not being judgmental, just saying that you should buy locally whenever possible, especially if you are going to own too much anyway).

The earrings I was wearing completed the storied outfit. "I love your earrings where did you find them?" "I bought them from an American Indian at the Continental Divide. He said he was out of gas and needed money to get to Amarillo, Texas. So I bought a painting from him as well. It's hanging in my bathroom. Of course, he drove away after walking up to me carrying a gas can, but I'm sure he was running low." Again, some details were omitted in real life, but that is one stinking cool pair of earrings.

PS My grease-stained skirt is actually coming along nicely. I'll fill you in once I'm certain I've won.

What will push me over the edge?

Sometimes I feel like I'm on the verge of having a great and life-altering realization.

The distaff side

Does anyone have any thoughts about getting a grease stain out of a khaki skirt? (Yes, farm grease) (You're right. I should have changed before I went to the farm) (No, I didn't have to ride on the 4 wheeler)( Yes, it's always a possibility that your clothes will be ruined if you wear them out to the field. I know).
Any ideas would be greatly appreciated.

for no reason

I took both of these pictures last week for no reason while on my way to visit my brother's new business. I'm posting them maybe for the same reason that I'm awake for no reason when I'm tired. I just feel like it. Tonight is perfect. I was out at the farm and when I stepped out to leave, the moonless sky was dark and glittery with millions of stars. The August summer air was nighttime perfection. That time of darkness, that perfect temperature, that pure joy of a night like this was just what I needed. I drove home windows down and listened to my new Avett Brothers cd which is making me happy...The beginning of the song Salina goes like this:

Salina, I'm as nowhere as nowhere can be

can't you add some somewhere to me

Ah Kansas, I'm kneeling, Ah Kansas please.

So many good moments happen for no reason. The goodness would be lost if I tried to assign one. So, I'll agree with myself to go to sleep tonight with a smile and a satisfied yawning "thank you". Hopefully, tomorrow night will bring more of the same.

By Kismet

It was a difficult week for getting excited about much of anything. My weekend outing was no exception. The most unfortunate thing about visiting a place is the unpredictable factor of the individual and her mood(the same can be said about reading, art, movies, and probably a million other things). I'm not certain if my gloomy week made me lethargic this weekend or if it was the humidity. Neither are normal. It may have been a bit of both. I made a short trip this weekend to Meade State Park which is a little fishing lake with a small swimming beach. I enjoyed the drive, and the landscape as you approach the lake is very pretty. However, I'm not sure that I had as much fun as I should have.

I worked on reading Death Comes for the Archbishop. Betsy appropriately loaned it to me before I began my road trip to the Southwest, and as is my custom with reading, I am still working on it. I decided that maybe Willa Cather demands a faster reader than me. She frustrates me because I know that the writing and descriptions are beautiful, but I never feel like I've read enough of a book to feel like I'm into it and that I want to finish. I am determined this time, in spite of my My Antonia failures.

I swam a little bit. I had brought a floaty ("air mattress" if you like grown up words), but the wind was blowing pretty steady at 20-30 mph so I decided not to bother. There wasn't a single boat on the water, though the park rangers made sure to yell at people who veered outside of the designated swimming area. One observation made by a young girl as she a passed a pair of goggles to her friend summed up this lake "look under water, it's pure green". Not that "pure green" bothers me at all, I am a water-deprived Kansan.

There was a strange, short trail at the park which I ventured. I wasn't really sure what I should be observing on this walk. There were many cottonwoods, and plants unknown to me, but I wouldn't describe any of it as interesting. Many of the trees were charred by small fires, but none of the area looked like it had experienced any extensive damage. A bird guide might have been helpful because I saw some strange looking ones which I thought might have been delightful had I been educated enough to understand why. Just when I was telling myself "this trail is only .5 miles long, I don't care how humid it is, you are making it to the other end", I saw the back ends of two white tailed deer. Of course, this made the humidity more bearable and the strangeness of the trail enchanting. I came to the end of the trail, looked around and went back to my car the same way that I had come.

One of my friends from work had told me about getting water from the artesian well at the park, but I was unable to find this source or where it was I should refill my water bottle. It could be that I was tired, but after a bit of driving around, I returned home, the same way I came: by Kismet.

Meade State Park Pictures

Pure Green

Surprisingly empty for a summer Saturday.

This is the beginning of the trail. This is pretty much what it was like most of the way.

have you...

prayed for peace today?