29 Jul 2010, 1:50pm
General
5 comments

Have Poetry, Will Travel

foggy dawn
Foggy dawn.

reading in sun
Time to immerse in books.

Hill
And people.

mythical landscapes
And other fantastic landscapes.

For me, I go today from this amazing group of writers, as people and as professional wordsmiths, at the Sage Hill Experience (photos)to the next bunch of poets at Purdyfest, then home from the wandering for a bit, in early next week.

Quote: “We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.” ~ David Sarnoff

25 Jul 2010, 1:07am
Glad Game
3 comments

Feelers Out

bug on the wall
To be a bug on the wall…what messages, what pheromones, what vibrations and gestures and cadences sing?

Glad Game: Glad for a/c and for breeze and for the heat. Glad whenever I can find the frequency of some stranger I talk with and the channel lights up with his or her enthusiasm. People are at their most beautiful when they think about what or who they care about. Glad for pretty animal stamps. Glad that I can be useful by just answering the phone and letting mom talk it all out. I don’t need to say anything. Glad to get photos of niece and nephew by yet another internet miracle and see their day at the beach with sparkler-filled evening. Digital closes some distances.

40-Word Years and pesbo have had a few more posts than around here. And, if all is on track, hubby is guest blogging EatenUp so it doesn’t lapse either while I’m out of province.

Quote: “My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery –always buzzing, humming, soaring, roaring, diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What’s this passion for?” ~ Virginia Woolf

22 Jul 2010, 10:48am
Light
2 comments

Christmas in July

So, it’s not quite December. We’re not far off. Sweaters have been known to happen. For me there are a handful of days per year that do not involve long sleeves, jacket or sweaters. But my wonky body thermostat is a while other story.

Did you hear that?

A gap of silence. Ominous. It must be nearly time to be asked what we’re doing for Christmas and what we want.

And we’ll have to soon arbitrarily set the approximate hour of our arrival. To the quarter hour. If not more precisely. And hour of departure. (Ditto.)

And what we want for gifts.

The limits are wide open. Except it can’t be books. There’ll be none of that for xmas. Why? “Because we got you that before”. That’s resounding from a few directions. Sigh.

I like playing, but there’s something screwy. What an oblique game this is. Every year the conversations go something like,

– What do you want for xmas?
– Nothing.
– We have to give you SOMEthing.
– Like what?
– What do you need?
– I don’t need anything. I have too much stuff. Can I regift you something?
– (ignoring me) What would be useful?
– Cash is useful.
– No, it has to be a thing.
– Cash is a thing.
– (silence)
– (silence) You still have my Amazon list?
– No, we get you books every year!
– Food.
– No, something you can have and keep.
– What if I don’t eat it?
– (silence.) (the distant scrapes of heavy duty interrogation lamps on seized wheels)
– A zip-up, 100% wool sweater in dark blue or green.
– Something cheaper.
– Stamps.
– It has to come from the dollar store.
– What? Why was this not the starting question? Do I need a heart’s desire that rings in at under a buck?

And by the time Halloween decorations hit the store, (probably August 31st this year accounting for season-creep), most of their Christmas shopping will be done.

Y’know, the main shopping, that finishing up what hasn’t already got done in after Christmas sales last year and during grocery shopping in the first half of the year.

Not that I mind what other people do, so long as I am largely left out of it.

Tell me what you want, and I’ll try to give that emblem. Once you mention it at an appropriate time. For me, that would be almost 4 1/2 months from now.

Then, on your marks, get set…ooh, look at ticket prices for Aruba.

16 Jul 2010, 8:20am
Glad Game Photos
6 comments

Glad Game: Beauties

park hill
Something satisfying about that gazebo on its knoll. It’s the type of hill I’d draw as a kid, even tho I only knew flat land in person. Lovely to be greeted by various dogs as we picnicked in the park.

green corridor
And the green corridor. Soon it’s sides will be bursting with purple thistle blossoms. On either sides, baseball, soccer, ultimate, basketball, tennis to either side of path.

Glad Game: My speed and endurance cycling is noticeably increasing over the season. 22 km or so yesterday.

Cycling is always easier in the evening.

Glad for racing on the bike path. (When the coast was clear of course.) Let’s say I won. Let’s say we both won. Let’s say I was momentarily 10 again. And that maybe humans can achieve the happiness of a dog with a stick.

Rory Sutherland talks at TED about how solutions that work aren’t those that are expensive but thought out. For example, to get people to show up for immunization, give a bag of lentils. You fight hunger and disease in one swoop.

I finally wrote a letter to mom. A huge honking 4-page letter.

A bunch of back burner items stroked off the list. Partly owing to partly cleaning off my desk. (Apparently it’s white.)

I found my slip with the info for the postal tracking number. (Used it as a bookmark.) I’m sure that was logical at the time. But the main thing is, the package was received.

Chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia and other autoimmune mis-settings are on a different scale of limits and boundaries for energy use. Christine Miserandino’s spoon explanation is useful.

Massage = good.

1) Glad that I could fake walking in normally so that she didn’t key in visually. (Yay, I can fake normal enough to fool a trained pro.)

2) That she, on touching my back declared, omg you must hurt. Got a nice verification by massage therapist. And could tell I was right handed and could speculate desk work. Smart lady.

Did I mention here seeing pics of our niece and nephew? (Cute fast-growing weeds.)

Glad eyes water dryness away.

Glad my bruise under toenail has all the assets of looking like a nasty battle scar and none of the hurt.

Glad for Gustafson poems. (Read a collection in one sitting.)

I asked the lady at the card store if they have boxes of cards anymore. She said yes then opened the shelves to the cupboard behind and pulled one pack out. And put none on display. Secret cache, only if you ask. Interesting. Wouldn’t have asked, wouldn’t have known.

Think I lived this week concurrently with another. Whoosh. It’s Friday, huh? Still, good conversations, in person, in email, and within pace that admits relaxation.

A meeting and a reading today. Cool. Then off to Saskatchewan on the heels of that. [P.S. my brain is bristling with possibilities about a new art project.]

Glad that once on a plane I’m fine. (Before then all I can think of is remaking wills, closures.)

Glad to wake up again. I even slept heavily and feel rested. (All the woo and none of the epoxy! Bonus.)

Quote: “It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be
stupid with them.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

13 Jul 2010, 9:24am
General
3 comments

Under the Petal’s Branch

Love scrawls itself everywhere
Love scrawls itself everywhere. With the help of agents.

Quote: Yasir: “Seeing is believing…”
CSIS Agent: Believing is believing too and it’s a lot faster.”
(Season 2, Episode 7 of LMOTP)

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