sunshine and glue, paper and hearts

I went with no format on placement of these photos which may have been a mistake, but I'm not waiting for them to upload again (I hate made up words like upload. Maybe "transmit" would be more pleasing). I just thought I'd share again with the collages I've been making since they've vastly improved since the last time I posted and since there are so many of you who never stop by. What's great for me about these creations as opposed to painting is that they're completely two dimensional. I've honestly never tried to paint, but I was recently gifted a watercolors set, so I'll let you know if I ever get brave enough to try that. Anyway, this is something new for me since I've never attempted visual art and I'm actually enjoying it, but there are loads of half cut up periodicals in my house now and millions of tiny pieces of paper.
I really ought to go back to embroidery for my tactile outlet, but I'm really enjoying the smell of glue and not poking myself with a needle. I have have ruined some pants doing this, however, which I never did with embroidery. I think maybe it's the office job that pushes me to create something wholly unrelated and vastly less ugly. You can click on the heart to try and read everything if you want, but it's mostly just nonsense. The only funny thing on it says something like "if the foot were the anatomical metaphor for love instead of the heart, what would it mean to say 'he walked all over me'?"

wishing for wishes

This noon-hour-written post is owing to the gloomy cloud in my office today. I'm working in my office all day so I'm in need of levity. I have turned off the melancholy tunes, or tried (my choices get pretty slim when I ban melancholy). In the hope of dispelling the cloud, I am writing.

I am hoping to get some questions answered regarding attitudes and belief about wishes. This is for my own research and the result will hardly be scientific since I'm friends or kin to everyone who comments. (Anyone is welcome to comment).

Dear readers, please answer any or all of the questions asked:

1. Do you make a wish before blowing out you birthday candles?
2. Do you believe your wish will come true when you blow out all of you candles in one breath?
3. Do you have any "typical wishes" (like a swimming pool or happiness) that you have found yourself making on multiple birthdays? What are your typical wishes?
4. What are your atypical wishes?

Just to clarify, there is a difference between needs and desires. Prayers can encompass aspects of both, but wishes are just fun wants.

You must answer my questions.

In addition to a great deal of flower planting and yanking out vines, crashing a family reunion in NWKS, and watching a Christian rap show which was cut short by lightning, I attended a Riders in the Sky benefit concert for Greensburg this weekend. Here's the question: Does loving Riders in the Sky make you a super (or "uber") nerd, or does it make you super (or "uber") cool?

one legal quip followed by a concert

Yesterday was Bob Dylan's birthday. Speaking of Bob Dylan, an important legal precedent was created last Friday by the Kansas Court of Appeals. In State v. Birth (boring legal link), the Court ruled that it was error to quote Bob Dylan lyrics in closing argument. I realize that this information is completely inapplicable to most of you, but I am very concerned about the limitations being placed on closing argument and whether there is a genre of music that the court would prefer. Another possibility is that the babyboom generation court finds it offensive for the DA to quote Bob lyrics in support of itself. (If you are like me, you had lots of ideas about what a case titled "state v. birth" might concern, and none of them dealt with Bob Dylan. In fact, most of the people I know who read this opinion disagree with me about its far-reaching ban on Dylan lyrics during jury trial).

I spent some time singing to my 4 year-old nephew, J. on Wednesday (if you were around Wednesday, you know what a long day it was for him and for everyone), including "Blowin' in the Wind". He kept requesting another when each song ended. I began with "Swing Low Sweet Chariot"(some links allow you to have a little sing along at your computer) followed by "Beautiful Kittenfish" from "The Cat in the Hat" cartoon. I then switched it up with "Can't Smile Without You" and when I finished, J. said "that song was too long". Since Barry Mannilow was one of my favorites at his age it was a little disappointing to hear (I'll have to try "I'm not Lisa" another favorite from that time in my life just to see if we maybe still could have been friends had we been 4 at the same time). As mentioned before I sang a Dylan song, but I always have trouble mixing lyrics from different lines and it doesn't come out quite right, but J. was ok with that. I ended the set with "Three Ways" by the Wallflowers. The song has 3 verses. J. wants me to come up with another verse. If you have any ideas let me know. The song follows a simple pattern and verse one is about getting out of a box, verse two is about getting off of a merry-go-round and verse three is about getting off of a burning bridge.

Jacob's Well

I visited Jacob's Well this weekend and the Big Basin in Clark County. I got a late start and was sort of regretting making the drive until I reached my turn. The grass was beautiful, there were loads of flowers, and the buffalo had recently calved. This is an amazing spot because it's so unexpected.

It's wonderful the way it completely surprises you every time because it's so hidden. Reaching it reminds me of the first time I drove through Kansas City and saw skyscrapers or driving to Colorado and suddenly seeing mountains. This is a little better surprise because you cannot see it until you arrive.

This is Jacob's Well. It's just a little nook of water surrounded by cottonwoods. It's never been known to go dry and is the subject of legend. My favorite is that the well is inhabited by blind fish. The water isn't flowing and I'm pretty sure I'd have to be blind to swim in it so the blind fish doesn't seem so far-fetched. It's sad to admit because I'd swim just about anywhere.

Kansas Postcard Day

These buffalo and the one above had to get off of the road to let me pass. I was reminded about my true weakness as a farm girl: fear of large mammals. You have no idea how much courage it took me to get out of the car to take these pictures. My best guess is that this fear harkens back to a story of our horse biting someone. One of my older siblings explained that animals can sense fear and they get angry when they sense fear. I think I was around age 4 or 5. Sometimes the fear that I'm afraid is just as great as the underlying fear.

Sightseeing

The walk down to the well.

Mixed grass, some flowers, and a few cacti.

There were no sunflowers in bloom, so this will have to do.

On the road (and what I found there)

This is road going east/southeast away from the well. I had never driven this part and walked it on this day instead. The website I linked to above seems to indicate that the road ends at the well, but I walked past the well and this is where I walked. (Maybe it was a road to Brigadoon if I'd only kept going). This is a mixed grass prairie with short and medium grasses. I can't think of any other publicly owned mixed grass areas in Kansas. Are there any others?




As you walk the road becomes more and more grassy as less and less travelers drive and walk this section. There are windmills scattered in the area for watering the buffalo since they are not free to roam away from here if the water dries up. One other thing that you will notice is the way the road disappears around the bend. It calls to you "come and see what's next".




Do you recognize me? I was unable to identify this critter. It's hard to tell in the photo, but he has been completely flattened.

Fighting Crowds

You can see the whole basin from this point. It feels like the earth is giving you a hug or if that's too granola for you, that God put this spot here for you to reach so that you could experience him hugging you through creation, or if that's still too much, it feels like a real pretty place to be. The marker points to Jacob's well.

These are pictures of the folks visiting with me. I'm not sure if you can see the red car in the distance at the marker. I am east of the marker here.

This is a view from the marker looking toward Jacob's well. That car belongs to a famous Kansan I passed driving up to the marker. It's incredible that so few people are here when I visit, but I don't really mind.

stray hairs, stable winds

Windy came with me, of course. I didn't wear a hat because I need a new visor and if I wore a regular hat than I would never achieve "summer blonde". My chin remains a mystery.

Greensburg

In Kansas, the men began to dig
with their hands seeking water
the thing that sustains
and people gathered their lives
around this well and lived
finding meteorites and peace
on this plain
But a vicious cloud spun over them
razing what had been built
the 1000 pound meteorite
fell off of its table
the people who had gathered
here to live were like a well
deeply dug, sustaining
they were watched by a world
and that world wondered
whether or not they would remain
but the people of the well know
that hands are all that is needed
to begin digging.

compare and contrast

Motto Rejection

My nephew was asking about personal mottoes this weekend and he assigned me one based on a dislike for whatever my answer had been. At this time, however, I reject the motto assigned me: "If you are going to buy a chandelier, make sure you have a ceiling". The pragmatism exemplified in the motto is no longer applicable. I am working to escape my nay saying self. (Sorry, S). I am chastising my 12 year old self that proudly announced to her little brothers that she was retiring from play. I am renouncing the 19 year old girl who wrote in her college diary that she was finished with dreaming. I am repudiating the bubble-filling-LSAT-test-taker. I will no longer be stymied by practicality. Though pragmatism does have its role, it is not the only consideration, and should not be my primary consideration.

Mottoes which succinctly capture this approach will be given due consideration.

Friday reading

Boring legal link.

Dandelion Break

So, my neighbors probably hate me, or at least hate my lawn care. The dandelions remind of Bloom County. It's too bad they are despised as a weed because they really are nice. And they love the wind like I do. My copy of Bloom County Babylon is falling apart, though I realized today that it's 20 years old. Yikes. The world is in need of a "mass dandelion break".

No horse, no bike, just shoes

I decided to go outside this weekend. Friday was around 80 degrees with clear blue sunshine. I even took a break at work so that I could go on a walk. I began scheming about finding a place to go hiking on Saturday and I ended up at Scott Park (weather forecasts weren't good and it's easy to get here and get home). The one in the upper left hand corner is me. Only I didn't have a stick and I wore shoes. There were no horseback riders and bicyclers on the trail. There weren't any renegade motor bikers either. In fact, I did not encounter a single soul on this trail, remnants of souls perhaps, but no human beings. The nice thing about not seeing anyone on the trails is that you can let yourself run wildly down the hills without fear of running into anyone or looking foolish should you fall (I didn't fall down, but I wouldn't have run at all had I thought someone might have seen if I did).

The wind came with me. As you know, it's one of my favorite companions, but the sunshine was missing and it certainly wasn't 80 degrees. The clouds were churning making me think I was foolish for hiking with the chance of thunderstorm so high. I think the wind gust may have been around 50 mph, but it's at a lake so there was none of that sand-stinging-your-skin pain. Planning Saturday based on Friday is no good, but Saturday should always be about feeling the wind in your face, hot or cold.

There were interesting sites. I love the way ants carry away yucky things. Taking a walk or a hike reminds you to look at things like this. Maybe you wouldn't enjoy looking at this, but there are other things to stop and look at, whether for admiration or for wonder. As Ralph Waldo Emerson observed, "there is no object so foul that intense light will not make beautiful". You should stop on hikes to look at things because being here is the point. There were lovelier things on the trail, but a hollowed carcass of a centipede (or whatever was its species) with ants crawling all over it is pretty fun.
My sock did not survive the hike. I didn't get a blister from this even though I felt the hole pretty early on in the going. I wore socks that were more appropriate for a walk in lycra pants. I'm fairly certain I bought these socks to wear with my lycra pants (actually lycra capris). There will always be things in your life that make you want to stop or that keep you from starting. Your socks or your messy house may try to keep you from going outside or even try to shorten your time spent hiking, but ignore them. Ignore everything that prevents you from taking a moment to climb to the top and look around. I even accept that I shouldn't consider whether or not there are others present when I make my decision to throw out my arms and run wildly down the decline.

I knew blue sky, and you clouds, are no blue sky

"We are never tired, so long as we can see far enough" Emerson (it should be the Haskell County motto). The lake is formed from a manmade dam. Nature can't always escape man, but the bluffs seemed to be doing their best. Next time I hike this place though I might bring along a trash bag to pick up the random cans of Keystone Light and Coors.


The rushing water coming out of a pipe into a creek on private property was a happy opportunity to touch the water, something I can never resist. This water is not snow melt, so I didn't even have to play a game to see how long I could keep my feet submerged. (this photo is also for Shauna, who lived with my foot photos for a time).

Little details

I don't know to whom the nest belonged, but most of the outcroppings have these little eroded nooks for use by whomever thinks he is capable of living in them. I couldn't find myself a nook that would suit my needs, that's why I came home.


I call this one "Half-self portrait". You could also call it "A Dream of silence". I like the way my arms are reflected in the sunglasses.

Pueblo ReRuins

I was a little disappointed to read that the Pueblo ruins were a reconstruction. I thought about how a time machine could have fixed everything, but then I decided that the State Historical Society was a time machine.

The Steele homestead (or not)*

I started here. (Not my day, but my trek to see the old homestead). Homesteaders were pretty amazing people. I would add a little fearless because all that I can think of seeing this at the top of a hill is : tornado fodder. There aren't stairs most of the way up.

I arrived here with a note to myself to take better care of my body, and a reminder not to grab yuccas when your feet start to slip.


The inside was lined with benches. I don't think that the Steele's lived with them in their house, but I didn't have a tour guide so I can't be certain.

* I don't really think that this is a homestead, but maybe something built more recently for visitors. It did seem really odd, but after reading the site about the park I think this isn't really anything historic, which makes the Steeles seem like much more sensible people. They did a nice job making it feel rustic. It is one of my failings to just explain things in my mind and accept those explanations as truth. I suppose you should be warned about me.

"Be kind to her in your cave"

My mythology knowledge is pretty soft. Any thoughts on what "Athinian cave" is located in a wooded area (seems tranquil) and inside is a monster/horror of some type, tongueless? This line may or may not have some significance: "Little snake, little snake, what a pretty pair/ We make". I was reading a Kenneth Patchen poem and it refers to this cave throughout. Anyway there are bad, bad things in the cave, but I feel like I'm just guessing about which cave it is.

Lilacs out of the dead land

Morning...

Noon...

Evening.

I'm awake and I'm writing

It's wet outside with a light dusting of snow. I suppose I'll have to get used to the idea if the forecasters know anything about the rest of the day. I had another accident at work this week. I'm not trying to hurt myself I'm just clumsy, especially when I have the large travel mug filled with hot coffee and I take off the safety lid so that it will cool off a little bit faster. Fortunately I had cleaned off my desk last week and so the only thing that got ruined was a business card which I only use to give out the fax number at the office. A statute book is also permanently stained. When I fell down the stairs at work I was going to refill an empty coffee mug, so I guess the conclusion is that coffee drinking can be dangerous. I learned during that fall that emptiness is not always what it seems in that I still spilled coffee on the wall even though the mug was "empty". I learned this time that the safety lid is there for my protection and I shouldn't blithely throw off those things which are designed for my benefit.

Easter was a sleepy day. I went to church at 7:45, ate breakfast at my parents' house and napped under an electric blanket. I was awakened by a niece who wanted to give me an old driver's licence which expired in 2000 (I was wearing my dad's flannel shirt and my earrings didn't match in the picture). I read a book called "The World's Great Letters". It was published in 1940 and was a book my mom had given to me a long time ago which I had left behind without having really read much of it. Now that I've read a lot of the book, it has come home with me. The book contained letters from Edgar Allen Poe about his drinking, a letter from Lenin regarding Stalin's leadership abilities and a letter from Thomas Mann about being stripped of his academic credentials from the University of Bonn during the Nazi rise to power. Slightly anti-social of me to spend so much of the day reading, but it felt like a real day off because of it. I did go out and roast marshmallows at one point, but the wind was bitter.

The desert I made was a success in spite of my attmepts to sabatoge it during its creation (I spilled half of the crust on the floor, and went ahead and made "Awesome Easter Desert" with a spotty crust). The day I shopped for ingredients I bought vitamin E tablets to sqeeze onto the dry patch on my face. I realized after applying it a couple of times that the awful smell was unusual and that it came from the fish oil that was added to these tablets. I guess I didn't read the bottle very well in the store.

That's all, I think I have time to do some reading before I have to go to work and do the things that I do.

Little Gidding

My mother wanted me to find her this poem so that she could read the whole thing. A portion of it was used in a forward to a book that she is reading.

hard freeze in april

Little tulips I know how you feel.

Good Friday

As usual I am working today. Here are some links to read today.
And a song since we've been talking about Johnny.
Any other suggestions for reading today?

repeating sugar and tangerines

The server is down at the office. One of the things that is working on my computer is the disc player, which I favor over my unreliable little portable thing (sometimes when I hit play it says NO DISC... there is a disc to play, I think maybe it doesn't really like music). Today I put in The Wallflowers Bringing Down the Horse. I love that cd, but I got stuck on "Josephine". I probably listened to it 20 times today. It seems a peculiar thing that sometimes I get stuck just wanting to listen to one song, but I suppose that's how #1's and Your Hit Parade works. So I was pondering my other repeat songs. It happens a lot to me because you can just hit repeat with cds. (I probably need to upgrade to an MP3 player, but I am technologically inept and have reached the stage in my adulthood where nothing makes sense that's new... a little early maybe?). Anyway, for my enjoyment I made a list. I know that I'm missing a bunch, but sometimes a list can be too long and I think I could spend a long time on this one.

1. "Three Ways" The Wallflowers (simple, true)
2. "Bad" U2 (lyrics that spin your head a little, but comfort)
3. "Fake Plastic Trees" Radiohead (happily, it doesn't fit right now, but there were times when it was perfect)
4. "When the Man Comes Around" Johnny Cash (literal interpretation of Revelation... it's just cool)
5. "Back of Your Hand" Dwight Yoakam (Sad, just stinking sad)
6. "Hard to Get" Rich Mullins (Every song on the Jesus Record has been on repeat at least once, the demo tracks of course)
7. "Reflecting Light" Sam Phillips ("the moon's never seen me before")
8. "Relapse" Adam Again (Spooky sad. )
9. "Gun" Uncle Tupelo ("my heart it was a gun, but it's unloaded now")
10. "Stone" Adam Again (sad... didn't realize they'd get two. I didn't even mention "Worldwide" or "River on Fire")
11. "Here You Come Again" Dolly Parton (Hee hee hee, but it's true)
12. "Moonshadow" Cat Stevens ("did it take long to find me?")
13. "Road to Ensenada" Lyle Lovett (I can hardly listen to the rest of the cd because I always want to hear that one, and it's a great cd).
14. "How Good it can Get" The Wallflowers (i've spent so much time wondering how good it can get)

I just reread it and it's an odd little list. Obviously my repeats can be a bit influenced by melancholy.

Intersecting

I've been reading a book that I bought a few months ago. I purchased it because Scott Russell Sanders was an author that did a reading when I was in college and I visited with him for awhile about writing and a sense of place at a reception afterwards held at my professor's house. He writes personal essays and was also a reading assignment when I was in college. As our final paper in that class, "the environment and american literature", we were to choose one of the authors we had read during the semester and write a creative piece in the style of the author we chose. I chose Sanders and wrote a personal essay (I recall being happy with the final product). I wrote about driving home during my last spring break of college.

Back in college I was reading Writing from the Center. Today I am reading Hunting for Hope (which isn't really a new book, just a recent purchase). There is a lovely intersection between what I wrote in college and what I am reading today. I wrote about stopping my car just before turning into the driveway at the farm. It was dark, maybe 11:00 or 12:00 at night and it was one of those nights when the number of stars seems to have quadrupled. I looked up to find the Comet Hyakutake. That was in the Spring of 1996. In the book I'm reading Sanders talks about seeing that same comet only where he was living there was a Spring snow storm. Kansas was in the grips of a severe drought and accompanying spring warmth. I wonder if you remember that comet.

P.S. I watched Children of Men this weekend. Very grim, but you should watch it. It reminds you of how precious life. Every life is as precious as the one in the movie, and if you don't believe that then atrocities are acceptable.

Gluing things down

I was trying to explain my compulsive collage creations to a friend last night and I thought that I ought to just post one because they don't really make sense. I wouldn't call them works of art, merely a tactile outlet. This one consists mainly of junk mail and trash that I was throwing away plus a couple of pieces from my stash of things previously cut from magazines. I completed it while watching Eternal Sunshine (etc). Mindless ripping and gluing are pleasant.

In other news, I recently read a book which was purchased on a whim at an outing to Target (by the way, did you know that some couples go to Target on Saturday nights... it is a sad state of affairs where I'm living): The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo. It's a children's novella with themes which won't be comprehended by children and which are aimed at adults, particularly me at this moment in my life, but a nice story for the tykes nonetheless. It's about a toy rabbit, and in some ways the opposite of The Velveteen Rabbit. It doesn't explain the pervasive use of rabbit's in children's literature. I, of course, was a teddy bear kind of child, but I do remember one lop eared toy rabbit and a rabbit poster. My teddy bear would never have behaved like Edward Tulane, though he did have a miraculous journey to Winfield one time. Once again, thank you to my brother Chris for rescuing him from the clutches of hotel staff.

Don't look at me

He didn't want to have his picture taken. I don't want mine taken either. Alas, we have no cultural mores that allow us that luxury. I'm not sure why it is that there are times that we want to look away. Maybe the last few weeks have been too much for him, what with the new baby and the focus on the infant. He is fighting to find himself in the shuffle of changes. Or maybe it was just the end of a day at the zoo.

I went to the zoo Saturday with 3 nephews and 1 niece (there were other members of our party. I wouldn't have tried such an outing alone). I asked the nearly 2 year old niece if she could say flamingo. She answered "mingo". I asked the nearly 3 year old nephew (not J. who is pictured) if he could say flamingo. He answered "no" and then said "ask Bubba".

I've been thinking about the Grimke sisters today. I admired them so much when I read their writings in college. I'm thinking of whether I could have been like them, realizing that it would take a great deal of gumption, which I lack sometimes in my convictions. Sometimes it's good to revisit what we think and what it is that we don't let ourselves think.

NIT-- I'm going to enjoy it.

March 14 at 8:00 pm v. Vermont. We are a number 2 ... Air Force is number one in our bracket. If you look through the teams in the NIT you realize how tight the competition to get into the NCAA must have been. It should be a good tournament.

It's like they are stealing time

I trust that this day will be uneventful for all. So much for the mini-y2k or M11S (march 11 spring). Also, this first daylight saving day is cloudy-- why would I want to lengthen a cloudy day?

I tried to stay up an hour extra last night in order to keep the government from interfering with my Saturday night. I knew that the government would get their hour no matter what, so I decided if I stayed up late on my own those fat cats in Washington wouldn't actually have stolen one hour of sleep from me, but I would have stolen an hour myself and so we would be even. Somehow this morning the math isn't making sense and truthfully I fell asleep early because I'm not really good at staying up late.

My computer knows exactly what time it is, but as expected some electronics like the mechanical face-dial clock in my house is an hour behind. Actually it isn't surprising, it did that during the last time change. I blame the computer programmers for not even trying with the clock.

On Friday I got to work on time. I think maybe the sunrise was perfect for me waking on my own. Oh well. Everyone is humored at my frenzied arrivals.

Finally I am very sorry to those of you who are having a 23 hour birthday. It's totally not fair.

Haysy

I went to Hays this weekend to see a friend's exhibit. The graphics art department was displaying some of their work. The first pic is of random onlookers discussing the show. The poster and the product display are examples of Jen's work. Betsy came with me and we concluded that hers were the best. Most of the onlookers pictured agreed.

Breaking News

I liked how this article pretended like people flying over fly over country are interested somehow in the topography of Kansas.

"Honey look, there's a riverbed down there, but there doesn't appear to be any water."
Flipping his atlas to Kansas, "Well, this is where the Arkansas River should be. What the heck? What's this? There's water again, it's almost like there are two rivers. What shall we do when we get back home to Connecticut?"
"I don't know, dear. The chick who is dictating my dialogue knows absolutely nothing about our state except that it seems like rich people live there and commute to New York. So what we'll do when we get there is beyond her scope."
"Yes, the dictator is mocking a Kansas newspaper through the dialogue about how people flying over would be concerned about the state of a river all the while knowing that easterners, honestly the entire country, know so little about the Plains that the hypothetical concern in the article is inconceivable. Yet the mocking author can't really develop us, her characters, because of her ignorance about the east. Has the drink tray gone by? I want a bloody mary."

No one here is awake yet

I slept on the couch at Matt and Betsy's last night. If you've never been to their house, they have huge east windows and the couch is facing directly toward them. As long as you don't hate the sunshine it isn't bad, but you have to accept that the sun will wake you. It did. The sky was full of light for a little while. Dawn, orange, blazed. Then the shelf of clouds came and there was still a fiery dawning orange just below the shelf of clouds, but the clouds were too thick and where they met the sky the light just stopped. I closed my eyes and slept a little more and when I woke up the shelf was gone and the sun was gone and the sky was nothing but clouds again. Sleeping there is a bit like having a TV tuned to one show :"Good Morning Sunshine". As repetitive as the dawn is, every morning is a little bit different.

It's the first time I've slept on their couch in months. It's a sign of how my life has changed and sleeping here last night is another sign of how it is changing again.

In other news, I have a new name from a child: "Lala". It's very sweet. Makes me miss the old ones: Elllch, Da, Yinda, Dida. Though Dida is still in use.

Vanilla L

I've wanted to start a new poem in Villanelle form, but I haven't had time to hammer it out. We may have to try a summer edition of group poetry writing because my inspiration is so cold and snowy. (I'm a Kansan. I am from the High Plains. I miss the sun. I hate trying to live without the sun.) I feel like this is a sub par offering, but I hope that you can give it a try. Here's your first stanza:


The sky sags down to touch the ground (refrain 1) (rhyme A)
Weighed like a cedar bough heavy with snow (line 2) (rhyme B)
graying out the sun until it's not found (refrain 2) (rhyme A)

The next stanza should be:
Line 5 with rhyme A
Line 6 rhyme B
The sky sags down to touch the ground

I look forward to reading what comes next. You can tell me later if you find this form difficult. (I sort of did. And hopefully, someone is still reading since I haven't been very faithful in writing).

Again

3 to 4 inches of new snow today.

At noon when I arrived home I realized that my sidewalk was passable after a month of being frozen and icy. At 5 when I left the office I spent ten minutes cleaning the snow off of my car.

I've missed you so much!

It was a good weekend to be a wildcat. Welcome back basketball.

Omenowen

I discovered evidence today about a theory I have been pondering unseriously for some time now. I consider myself more a student of luck than actual practitioner, so this is very amateur and I haven't found any conclusive answerss; so please do not adjust your superstitions based on my observations.

The thing that I have pondered (mostly because of the black stray cat that lives near the courthouse) is whether the cat causes the bad luck or whether it is his job to scurry in front of people in order to warn them of impending unluckiness. Today as I was walking back from court Omen, the resident stray black cat, was walking next to me. He was in the street, I was on the sidewalk. As we walked I quickened my pace to discourage Omen from crossing in front of me. He quickened his pace, matching mine as though it were his mission to stay with me. He did this in spite of oncoming cars. I decided to go even faster, but the cat sped up too. Alas, I was impeded by the icy sidewalk which was clear up until the trees. I had to slow down. As I slowed down, Omen hopped the curb and scampered right in front of me. Anyway, I'll let you know what comes of it.

As far as my theory goes, this seems to indicate that the cat crossings are not random, but planned ahead of time. (I know some of you are worried about my eternal soul, but really, I've been delivered from not joking about these things).

In other cat news, Omen has a counterpart. I haven't concluded whether he is good luck or not, but I feel he must be a harbinger of the positive. He looks like a black cat from a profile angle, but head-on he has a large white spot under his chin. I've decided to call him "Owen" being only slightly different from Omen , but not his opposite (if he were a white cat his name would be "Nemo" of course).

I'm already late, I might as well write down some random thoughts.

Is anyone else excited about the spoof possibilities offered by the Beach Boys' song Kokomo and Obama running for president?

I'm wearing a t-shirt and a sweater today. I noticed my t-shirt was on backwards so I fixed that and then I looked in the mirror and now my sweater is on backwards, but my t-shirt is on forward, should I call in sick?

There is still snow on the ground. I'm very confused about where I am living. Where is my 70 degree day? Where is my snowfall that melts off in two days?

Does anyone know where my brown belt is? I'm substituting a brown scarf today, but would really like my belt. It say "LINDA" on the back... though no man has ever sang "Redneck Girl" to me.

Also just for everyone's edification, a spoon will work as a shoehorn in a pinch.

Readings for the sake of reading

This post is for those of you needing a poetry fix. Mark Jarman put this list together and if I had done it, I might have thought to put a couple of his on it. He was easily my favorite poet that did a reading when I was in college.

Over There

I was in Kansas City this weekend. I actually went as a tourist which was really different. I went to a few museums including the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum and the World War I Museum. As those of you who know me with any degree of depth, I may never have chosen of my own volition to visit these stops(being a closet history-hater and a non-baseball fan) , but I must admit that both were worth the trip (and maybe history is a little cool and baseball is little fun). Sometimes life is more interesting when there is someone travelling with you suggesting activities you would never have thought of doing.

At the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum I discovered that there were many other men who played in the Negro Leagues besides Satchel Paige (though he still is pretty amazing, I think he's even more amazing after the museum). The whole league seemed more fun than what is going on now, but of course, I live in a different time. I especailly loved the idea of these teams just playing whoever. That said, segregation is just ugly, and so the present is preferable .

At the Liberty Memorial, I found out that there were many causes that precipitated World War I besides the shooting of an archduke who has most recently lent his name to a band. I was reminded of the historical importance of the Lusitania which honestly I hadn't thought about since my junior year of high school. There was a lot of talk about monarchy, empires and nationalism which seemed to be much more important in the war than the actual Austrian archduke. I guess I am poorly educated, but I learned so much. If you ever decide to go, eat first, and plan on it taking a solid half day if not longer (there did seem to be an indication that a restaurant would be added which would make it a lot more palatable).

Powerless

Craziness. In case you hadn't guessed, there are still a lot of people without power around here.

slippers and signs

I have been reminded of some important things today... like that stocking feet on the linoleum stairs to my basement may result in slip and fall-- not the good kind where you collect $1 million. The backs of my calves are bruised, my hand is sore, my back muscle is pulled and I was late to work, all because I failed to put on slippers this morning.

The courthouse is sporting new no gun signs showing a gun with a red slash running through it. Hooray, the conceal and carry law went into effect! I had almost forgotten, but I think we can now use the outdoor ashtrays as a drop off spot for the guns since no one can smoke within 100 feet of the courthouse now. You can't smoke within 100 feet, but you can carry your gun right up to the front door. Hopefully I'll get used to the signs, but right now it just makes me wonder who the signs are targeting.

Resolved: that newness should co-exist with oldness

It's time for something. New year, new number, new date. The old has escaped the present to its eternal abode in memory. Though everyone should know my holidays, the last 3 weeks, have been full of new that became old (or "auld" in honor of the day). Newness becomes passe with each second passing and now will repeat itself ad infinitum. (Unless of course time truly ceases to exist, but for now I am trapped in its straight line continuum without a Deloreon or a flux capacitor). So, the girl of 2006 is now the girl of 2007. She is mind-bogglingly decisive. I am going to attempt a poem everyday again, which I've tried before, but I've already succeeded today. I am going to face myself and examine my path.

Sorry for the vagueness (imagine trying to live your life with this kind of vague mind everyday! It's a wonder I accomplish anything). Sorry that there are no pictures, JEO.

Happy Holidays, especially you Linda Jean

I added another number to my yearly count this week. Hence, the change in the "about me" portion that referred vaguely to my age. My birthday was full, especially my stomach. I kissed some man fixing to ride off on a horse in Oklahoma and I ate at the Olive Garden in Wichita. I ate spaghetti at marg's house on the actual date and Pho Hoa that evening. Tuesday I ate at an office luncheon at a local radio station which the staff referred to as a "holiday party". I think it was called that so as not to offend me and include my birthday as part of the celebration (though I was not offered a White Elephant which makes me think the party was not really for my birthday). I ate cabbage rolls that evening at the farm along with pink peppermint cake. For birthday week today I went to Super Pollo which had a political message on the wall which loosely translated said something like "protecting the rights of the foreigner is peace" which loosely reworked in my mind means "peace for your birthday holiday season." I thought that was very sweet of the them and the pollo torta was so yummy. I haven't eaten my birthday week supper tonight on account of still being full and feeling sick. My headache spread to my body this afternoon. The big event for Wednesday of birthday week is that it rained tree limbs in my yard (It may inspire a new song-- "I'm dreaming of a barky birthday"). I hope you continue to enjoy the holiday season. Birthday season ends on Friday.

I need new pants for Christmas.

Advent Stirs

I watched The Nativity today. I enjoyed the movie, but I did find the music distracting. Yet, it is amazing the number of songs written for this event. It seems that every year I feel as though I've missed singing one of my favorite carols during the season. We did sing What Child is This? at church today which was nice. The second verse makes me cry starting with "the silent word is pleading". I love how song can express the deep treasure of Christmas. There are so many of them that can bring me to tears, expressing something I do not focus on daily, but without which I would not want to face each day.

O Holy Night -- And in his name all oppression shall cease.
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel -- that mourns in lonely exile until the Son of God appear
I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day --God is not dead nor doth he sleep.
We Three Kings --Guide us to thy perfect light
Joy to the World -- No more let sins and sorrows grow... He comes to make his blessing flow far as the curse is found. (I love every word of this one).

P.S. I did take my links from cyberhymnal which plays the song in that computery tone (which probably has some technical name, so you might want to turn down the volume if that annoys you. However, they do a good job listing the complete verses).
I'm certain there are many more that I could cite as example, but you get the idea. What lines have I omitted?

Thumbing my way to Tuesday

I don't understand what this day has against me. We had never met before and yet from the moment that my alarm went off and 7 more times after that in 9 minute intervals, the day had it in for me and especially my thumbs. There was no breakfast food in my fridge or my cupboard. When I arrived at the office at my usual time which to everyone else is 20 minutes late, I had to wait for the coffee to finish brewing before I left for court. I gathered my files and cut my left thumb on a file. No, not the paper inside the file, the actual file. It was deep. It was wide. It required a bandage. Then, the 9 o'clock court hearing decided not to come. At lunch I ordered a chicken fried chicken salad which is what I always get. Sometimes the chicken is warmer than I like at this restaurant, but today, it was piping hot with melted cheese on top. The waitress insisted that the salad always comes this way and in the interest of not being poisoned, I did not send the salad back. It was yucky and I was hungry. This afternoon included a paper cut to my right thumb. This evening I cut my right thumb on the razor edge of the parchment paper which I was using for baking cookies. I read the cookie exchange instructions wrong, or, more accurately, I stopped reading them after the first sentence. So I didn't bring enough plates of cookies for everyone. So good-bye Monday. My thumbs will be better off without you.


Ode to my Thumb
Oh thumb, thou art opposable
you are the appendage envy
of every mammal.
I prick thee, I split thee
Yet thou art still holding
my pen, purse, popsicle,
for me and my needing.
Thumb, you are thumbthing special!

haiku hiatus (haikutus)

I have nothing to post, but since my poets seem to be growing tired of the haiku I will make another offering. I note that one reader suggested that we avoid the epic poem, but the sonnet, the sestina, the ode, free verse, and any other form you are interested in for your self-expression is available. Do you think you are ready to write the next stanza in sestina form?:

I pretend that it is a much deeper snow
So that walking on the mundane sidewalk
Is less a quickly cleared and salted town
And more a prairie pioneer trial
Instead of white gloves and a black coat
I am fighting the wind, headed for the barn

Anyway, it would be really sad if the poem never ends.

Thanksgiving Haiku

Uncooked pecan pie
gooey on the kitchen floor
spilling from the shell.

Tumbleweedy

I got these e-mailed to me at work today... these are pictures from the edge of town, but, alas, I can't tell you who took them.

Tilt-a-tumbling tumbleweed

Last night I think I ran over no less than 50 tumbleweeds on my way to and from the farm. It was hard during the daylight not to be distracted by the ones in the sandhills breaking free of the sagebrush and fence. The night drive was bad in a different way because there were critter-like bodies darting out in front me the whole drive home. Thank God deer don't role or there would have been no way to tell the difference. It would be kind of funny if ferrets climbed into the inside of the tumbleweed for a thrill ride. (Yes, supposedly ferrets aren't found in my county, but I saw a dead one last year near the county line, which isn't exactly evidence that they live in my county, but it does create the inference that there was one living recently). Maybe field mice would have an easier go of it. Tumbleweeds are the tilt-a-whirl at the rodent carnival. It explains how the tumbleweeds hang on to the fence and then seem to rock back and forth until they break free. The mice are on the inside of the tumbleweed and create the rocking motion with their weight which eventually rocks the tumbleweed off of the fence and into the open spaces of the highway where all the parties involved may or may not get hit by my car.

Blogger Extra

Jedediah Smith

As many of you are aware, I am in love with the redwood forest. Which is sort of like real romantic love because I say silly things like "I never thought I could feel this way about a forest" and "I never saw myself loving a forest because all of the other forests have disappointed me." When I visit Jeanette we go to the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park in Northern California. (The name (alas) makes me think of the Simpsons. ) As with all of my journeys to the Redwoods I discuss the visit a Judge here because he is also a fan. During our most recent "Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park" conversation, he disclosed some very interesting information about Jedediah, the forest's namesake. He actually passed away in Grant County and there is an historical marker at the side of the road. It sounds like a good Explorer Extra that I'll have to try.