Saturday, January 31, 2009

Psion Dump with 4 new poems from 081207-090131

Sunday, 12-7-08, 10:20 AM
After many cloudy, snowy days, it's brilliantly sunny and the sky is
blue. I am out on my morning mini-constitutional/light dose, slogging
through snow in my Harley Davidson motorcycle boots, which I'm trying
to get broken in. Keith is home making breakfast, bacon and eggs and
grapefruit. Just before I left, Graham came home. He'd stayed out
all night, two nights in a row, but one without permission or letting
us know where he was. I used to worry, but he's done that several
times now, so I worry less. It's a "never-cry-wolf" situation--if he
ever is really in trouble, we won't worry or look for him or call the
cops until it's too late, possibly. I'm glad he's home though. He
has his piano holiday recital today at 1:30 and I was dreading the
ordeal of looking for him or not showing up. And causing a problem for
Mrs. Lindow and for Jay with whom he's playing a duet.
Graham walks in the door and the first thing he says is, "where were
you guys?" Well, we went out Christmas shopping and later we went
skiing, but we were actually HOME most of the day and all evening.
Keith yells, "What is this, a preemptive strike, don't try to blame us
for the fact that you forgot your key again!" He was furious.
Keith said Graham neglected to call and tell us where he was. Graham
said he called and there was no answer. We checked the phones, there
was NO message. He's lost or misplaced about 30 keys now. And of
course, he was not wearing a coat and there's a harsh wind blowing and
it's about 20 degrees out so the wind-chill is lower. No hat, no
coat, no gloves. Not even a hoodie. Mr. Cool, shivering and knocking
to be let in.
I've had these Harley boots for a year now, and they still aren't
broken in. Of course, I didn't wear them all summer. Now I wear them
every morning for my light dose constitutional in hopes they'll be
broken in to wear on the bikes for hiking, bike hiking. Motorcycles,
that is.
11:19 Breakfast is over and Keith is up on the couch drinking coffee
and reading the paper. I think he'd spend the whole day doing that,
if left to his own devices. Graham has disappeared. My guess is that
he's sleeping off an all-nighter. I can't complain about Keith
though, since he earns the money that pays our bills. I guess he can
vegetate on the couch if he wants to. The sad part of it is, it means
less time together, because he's gone all week, and he doesn't even
like me to speak to him when he's reading the paper, so it's best if I
stay in another room. And I can't do anything either--I have to wait
until he's ready.
1:20 PM We're at the recital. Graham is sitting with the kids; I'm
with Keith and ML. We had to take two cars because Graham wasn't
ready. Then he forgot his music. Mrs. Lindow had some for him,
though. He wanted to drive back and get his music, but that would
have made him late. Mrs. Lindow is running about being cheery. I
don't feel cheery. I am very tired. Did not sleep last night.
I drift inside the music, float downstream
in bubbles of sound. The piano trills and the birds
sing and whistle. The stream joins another
and a third, becoming a creek. Mountains
lift around me, and of course, an eagle soars
and circles overhead like a majestic cliché,
its white head and tail shining. It's only
a student recital, but the fingers fly
on the keys like birds and the music pour
into the chapel and swells it toward bursting.
Finally, I have found a home, a place to live,
contentment. I snuggle into the sound, flow
and ripple, rise and fall. I am amazed by Bach,
Chopin, Brug, and Mozart. Oh joy, oh love,
oh music, carry me home.
OK, well, that didn't come very well, too full of clichés, but maybe
I can find it later.
Monday, December 8, 2008, 10:40 AM; I am out in my Harley boots and
parka for my morning mini-constitutional and light dose--though there
isn't much light today. The sky is dark and threatening. It's
supposed to snow, flurries, then snow showers, then change to sleet
and freezing rain, then tomorrow, all rain.
I just fed the birds, as I do every morning and here's something I do
not understand--they seem to be eating LESS food now than they were in
the summer. True, I am out less to fill the feeder, but there is
still a LOT of food leftover from yesterday. They are eating less of
the corn in particular, and less of the round larger brown seeds.
Everything used to disappear fairly quickly in the summer.
My hands are getting cold typing while I walk.
Theoretically, I should go out for my light dose as soon as I get up,
but at least now I have that light therapy lamp. I always have so
much to do. I did my morning exercises, stripped the bad, gathered
and started a load of laundry, and worked on the ATC (Artist's trading
card) I started last night. I did a few other chores, started another
load of laundry--so now I have one in the washer and one in the dryer.
The first was the sheets and some other lights, the second some
darks, and the next load will be towels, jeans etc. Collecting and
running up and down with baskets full of laundry takes more time and
energy than it seems like it should.
I walk past a honey locust tree and remember yesterday when Keith and
I were walking together, we stopped and gathered a few of the many
fallen pods and looked up at the many still on the tree. We shook the
pods like rattles or maracas and banged on the ones on the tree. I
too a little movie. I like that we have fun like that together. :-)
I had a bad night and was very tired all day, and we still managed to
have some fun.
Wings Challenge update:
I only set two goals, because this is a difficult time for me. They
were to start a diet and try to lose weight and to try to clean up and
get rid of stuff and start by sorting boxes.
I started a diet, but since it's the holidays, I keep going off it,
and then back on. I lose a little, I gain a little, I lose it back, I
gain it back. But I guess that's better than what usually happens on
the holidays, where all I do is gain and gain and gain and gain.
I started sorting a HUGE box of stuff, and I've gotten more than
halfway through it, but I think I am going to pit it away until the
new year because I have so much holiday stuff to attend to.
OK, so, assuming I can locate a box that the remaining unsorted stuff
can fit into (the old box is HUGE!), I will store it until January or
later. So I need to set a new goal to go with continuing to diet.
I'd like to set a goal of having good cheer and a welcoming demeanor
for the holidays, but my moods seem to be beyond my control and
related to my ongoing lack of sleep. I'd like to set a goal of
sleeping better, but I don't know hat small steps to take to
accomplish that. I was sleeping quite a bit better for a time during
the summer when I was on my allergy diet, but I was so busy then that
I did not keep a record of what I was eating and now I forget!
I'd like to do that--get back on that diet. Maybe I can make aiming
for that a subcategory of my diet goal.
OK, I've got it: Here is my second goal: to work on ONE project at
a time and clean up and file or put away all portions of that project
before starting a new one. I have to be a little bit flexible about
that, and say, maybe, work on no more than 2-3 projects at a time,
because The block print Christmas cards need to dry spread out,
between application of paint (printing rounds), and the water color
gift cards need to dry, and I have to do assembly on the other gift
cards, which requires spreading them out. So what I am going to do is
this: clean up ASAP after each drying period, put away my Geraldine
MS since I don't have time to work on it right now and it's all spread
out on the floor, put away all art supplies that are about from
previous projects, and maybe take some to the basement until after
Christmas.
OK--those are my two goals, along with calling Dr. Beeai about my
meds, getting a flu shot, ordering gifts for BB, etc. And the
laundry, shopping, meals, holiday concerts, being a Mom and wife, and
doing that as well as possible, wrapping all the gifts we've already
acquired, decorating the tree.
I need to start by eating breakfast in a more timely manner. I've
been up for hours running around, but I didn't eat yet. Wanted to get
my light dose and constitutional first! And meanwhile, I did all
these silly things like fill the bran bin and change the bird water
and feed the birds and so on that could be done AFTER I eat.
11:36 AM HAH! I finally ate breakfast. I do need to be a little
relaxed and forgiving with myself, because I have ADHD and get easily
distracted. Getting angry at myself for something I don't seem to be
able to avoid is totally counter-productive and pointless. I need to
work on awareness, paying attention to what I am doing and saying, do
that after breakfast. But when I am over-tired, being aware and
paying attention becomes difficult.
I got the third load of laundry in the washer and am headed up to put
clean sheets on our bed and put away the first load. What I want to
do is work on Christmas cards, but this is all taking so LONG!
I tripped on my boots going down with a load of towels. I almost
fell down the stars. I put them there when I got back from my walk so
they wouldn't make puddles on the floor and people wouldn't complain
about getting their socks wet. Somehow it seems wet socks are less
bad than falling down the stairs and breaking your neck.
Now I am walking around in my undies because all my jeans are in the
laundry. Brr. I could sew a pair of jeans from the mending pile, BUT
I have so much to DO!
12:37 Clean sheets on the bed and the first load of laundry folded
and out away. Phew I am tired. I am going to break from working and
scan and post the ATC I made last night and this AM. I shouldn't be
making ATCs, but at least they are quick and offer a quick break from
work.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008, 5:39 PM We are riding in the car in the
rain and fog and darkness toward Laura Lindow's house for Graham's
piano lesson. I have a bag of art supplies crammed between my legs
including a table easel, drawing board (homemade from foam core and
packing tape, paints, brushes, paper etc and I am hoping to work on a
gift card while Graham has his lesson.
We are on Moran approaching the lake. In daylight, Ilove this part,
because, as we approach the lake, we never know what we'll see,
horizon, no horizon, waves, no waves, color, etc. Tonight it's so
dark we can't see anything at first. But lo and behold, the lake is
frozen.
And the decorations are up--the hodge-podge and the tree--the tree is
gorgeous, and lots of other holiday lights. Beautiful, better than
"Lights on the Lake" any day! The rich people go all out and the
results are splendid.
I was going to write about my dreams. I had a lot of "interesting"
dreams, but one in particular is worthy of attention, and not just
solely because I had it three times in one night.
Frogs and Toads abroad in Winter
1)There is a green frog inside the house. I don't want to release it
outdoors, because it is winter, and I'm afraid it will die, even
though there's a thaw at the moment. When I go outside, there is
another green frog, just like the one inside. I think about taking it
inside and keeping it until spring, but decide to leave it outside in
hopes that it will find shelter before the thaw ends.
2)Graham and I are outside. It's wintertime, but it has warmed up a
bit, above freezing. There are toads all around and I find some that
have feathery protrusions from their snouts. I call Graham to show
him. The toads are logy from cold and I start stacking them up to
bring them inside. But then we decide to leave them out and hope that
they get under the mud before the freeze hits again.
3)Several hours later, I dream the green frog dream again, almost
verbatim, almost like a movie played over again, with very minor
variations.
The major things to note about this series of dreams are: 1)it
repeated three time, so I need to pay attention, 2)Frogs and toads are
amphibians, able to go in and out of water, or travel between the
conscious and unconscious minds and bring messages. It is interesting
that I'd have such a dream right after I asked, again last night, for
clarification on my other dreams, asking: how am I getting in my own
way? and how can I unmessify? And what do the other dreams MEAN?
3)Amphibians notably metamorphose. They change form. 4)Amphibians
hibernate during the winter and die if they freeze. 5)I useto be a
master frog catcher as a child. I wrote a NOVEL about saving frogs
(called Frog Haven.)
Maybe the dream means I should get my Frog Haven Manuscript OUT THERE
again before "winter ends" (before I die of old age.) I think dreams
are multifaceted and can mean multiple things.
Right before the first frog dream, I dreamed that someone was
fighting a fighting stallion. I was very worried about him, because
he was seriously out
Friday, 12-12-08 10:34 AM I am out on my constitutional again. We
had an unexpected concert last night. Graham's holiday concert.
Graham knew about it, but didn't bother informing us. We did manage,
though, to get tickets and attend. I was exhausted and it was very
hot and I kept nodding out, but parts of the concert were very nice.
That was last night, Thursday night. Now picture this: Wednesday
night, late (about 11:00 PM), Keith had already gone to bed. I was
shutting down my computers and Graham was dorking around in his room.
He came in and asked me to cut his hair. I'm like, "Now? It's late.
I am tired. You need to be in bed.!" He said he had to look nice
tomorrow, which should have been my cue to ask why, but I was too
tired to pick up on it.
So we went in the bathroom, tired Mom and tired son, and I pulled up
the hair in random pieces and chopped about a half inch off, paying
particular attention to the front, ears, back. But I am sure it was a
half-done job. I might have used more care if I'd known he had a
concert! b It would have helped if 1)he told us about the concert and
2)he asked me to cut his hair earlier. I have to say, though, he
looked extremely cute in his tails, tuxedo shirt, white vest and white
tie--and new hair cut. Too bad he would not allow either me or Keith
to take his picture!
It is snowing as I write this. My fingers are getting cold. The
pavement has scary icy spots. I don't know how much light dose I'm
getting it the sky is dark grey and it is snowing and I am looking
down at the computer as I walk.
3:46 PM We are at La Salle Bank--not the closest one or the next
closest one, but the one at 8 mile road. Which is no longer LaSalle
Bank but Bank America, oops. We are here to close our GMAC account
and put the money into our joint savings, because today, the Senate
rejected the proposal to save the automakers. And GMAC is not FDIC
insured and will go out if GM goes out. If they go into bankruptcy,
he will lose his job AND we will lose our RETIREMENT that Keith worked
for all his life. :-(
Keith is really worried, agitated and depressed.
I got really angry at Keith last night and we both lay awake late
into the night, so we're both tired. But at least we're not fighting
any more.
Saturday, December 13, 2008, 10:05 AM Fresh snow on the sidewalks. I
am having the same issue I often have with the Psion: I've been so
busy that I haven't had time to download it or to work on the things I
wrote and never finished. The sun is shining this morning, thin, low
and yellow, but shining at least as we head for the shortest day of
the year.
I waited up and didn't get to bed until after 1 last night and then
didn't sleep well. Graham was out caroling. Then he had a party.
Keith had promised to pick him up, but he went to bed (with his
clothes on) and I said I'd stay up to listen for Graham's call, but I
had no idea it would be so late. I sat and worked on making cards for
Heidi for her birthday and for Christmas--her birthday's on Christmas,
and then I wrapped the presents and then I packaged them, wrapped and
addressed the package etc. So now it is sitting ready to be mailed.
I only walked about 15-20 minutes yesterday and never made it out for
the rest of my walking. :-(
We're going to see Carmina Burana tonight.
That is, if I don't break a leg on the snow-covered ice!
4:01 PM So we dorked around and dorked around and dorked around
making gifts, addressing Christmas card envelopes and finally drove to
the PO only to discover that it was closed. Then we drove to the
Shores PO and it was closed too--which means Heidi and Gail's gifts
won't be mailed until Monday at the earliest. Now we're on out way to
get our glasses.
9:16 PM It's intermission at the DSO. We heard Verdi and another
Soldier's tale. Next is Carmina Burana. We nearly struck out today,
went to two POs and both were closed--so we didn't get mail our
Christmas packages to Heidi and Gail--and then went to the glasses
store (Fraser optical) and it was closed so we obviously didn't get
our glasses. I really enjoyed the Verdi but wasn't very fond of
Another Soldier's tale. It was dissonant and noisy and had no
discernible melody line' it was jangly and disturbing to me. I guess
it was supposed to be that way, it was based on a story of the
composer's grandfather who lost an eye and was trying to save a
companion during world war II. It was written by a black composer who
talked a bit about his piece--it was the world premiere of the piece
and it seemed to be received quite well, but as I said, I didn't like
it. I wanted to like it, but I didn't. I like music to be musical.
10:49 PM Well, it's over, and Carmina Burana was great. Fabulous.
We gave them a standing ovation that lasted for 4-5 return bows etc
and they deserved it. (In my opinion.)
It was very hot in the theater. Hot, bright, swelled with song and
music. I kept thinking of Sara, Erin, Pam, Heidi, TRR etc who all,
according to NPR, have no power because of a massive ice storm that
swept across the North East. I hope they are all OK and warm enough
and safe. I felt sort of guilty and decadent enjoying the DSO
presentation of Carmina Burana while so many were suffering.
11:02 PM we were sitting in absolutely unmoving traffic trying just
to get out of the parking garage. Finally, we are moving.
Sunday, December 14, 2008, 12:34 AM Out of a late "morning" light
dose and constitutional, mini variety. Fed the birds. I've been
doing cards. Keith is in their now doing them without me. Earlier,
when I was doing them, he was on the couch reading the Times. Before
that, he made breakfast. Its rainy and above freezing and most of the
snow is melted except in rows along the edge of the sidewalk where it
was plowed up.
Graham has gone off with $25 of his $40 from Bill and Eileen to blow
it at Kerchival on the hill on sandwiches and coffee, supposedly. The
other $215 will go in the bank. He can't even wait until Christmas
to waste it. At least he did write a thank you note and clean his
room a little before he left.
There is still ice on the sidewalk in some places! It's raining
harder, so I'm putting this away.
Monday, December 15, 2008, 11:43 AM I am over at the Post Office
waiting in a very long line to mail ONE SMALL package to Heidi. If I
had packaged it in two separate packages, I would not have had to come
here and wait in line.
The line is very long. When I first got here, it curled around. Now
I have made it up as far as the central counter--not the one with
workers, the one where you can get supplies. There are now eleven
people ahead of me. AH, but two went at once so that may mean nine.
The first bell-ringer of the season is outside the post office, he
opened the door for me. I was a bit annoyed, I feel trapped--there's
no back door.
11:59 I paid $4.80 to mail the package because the cranky lady said
first class might not make it. I don't believe that but I didn't feel
like arguing. I paid in cash (dumb mistake) and gave the guy outside,
the bell-ringer, a handful of change.
I also got one more book of Christmas stamps.
I was wondering if I should have gone to the UPS store instead, as
there was no line there. I just watched a man and a woman unloading
boxes in front of the UPS store. The man, a short st9ocky (but not
fat) man wth black dreads handed two large boxes to a tall, thin
pretty blond woman. Then he took a small one and followed her. Her
boxes? She was staggering under them; they were big. Is he a
musician? He looked cranky and a bit miffed, but of course, anyone
could. He was pretty handsome, but his handsomeness was ruined by his
expression.
2:32 PM Keith got out of work early today and we are on our way BACK
to the glasses place again to try again to get our glasses.
It's been getting colder and colder. It was cloudy and rainy and
it's supposed to snow, but at the moment, the sun is shining. Ave
Maria is playing on the radio, slow and mournful strings. Keith is
narrating to me what people in other cars are doing.
4:41 So we are headed over to the glasses place for a THIRD time
because the glasses are not what I ordered. One is walking around
glasses and one is reading glasses and neither of them is what I
wanted. I ordered glasses for close inspection and for the computer.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008, 9:31 AM I am out again on my
constitutional (mini) and light dose. Headed for the store by walking
in the opposite direction (and then around the block, to make up 20
minutes. It's very cold this morning, the birdbaths and puddles are
frozen totally solid. I've got my Krina-fur scarf on. My hands won't
take too much writing.
This journal is not very representative of me or my days, as I mostly
only write in it when I am walking or riding in the car or waiting at
an appointment.
Last night, I had three dreams that I remember, or two, depending on
how you count them. Probably lots more in between. The first was as
I was falling asleep last night and the other one or two as I was
waking up. Well, just before I woke up.
Oh, no! I just realized, upon seeing yellow labeled bags, that today
was the day we were supposed to put out old clothes (unwanted
clothes), and Keith said he had some, but we didn't collect them. We
had that fiasco with the glasses yesterday and they admitted they were
wrong and said they'd fix them (2 more weeks), but it took a huge
chunk out of our day driving back and forth and then we had dinner and
some other stuff and we were tired. And forgot.
A boxer just came running out of a yard and scared me, but it was
very friendly. But the lady hit it and yelled at it for coming to see
me, upsetting.
9:54 My favorite teller was saying she wasn't ready for Christmas and
I said she'd better get to it and she said her father died--he was
81--he begged her to stay by his side while he was dying and begged
the sons to give her money so she wouldn't have to work--she's
crying--and she stayed with him til the minute he died--they were very
close and she saw him or talked to him every day. She can't get in
the holiday spirit, it doesn't seem like Christmas without him.
I hugged her--I was crying too, remembering my Mom's death, and my
father's. And feeling sad for her.
About my dreams, here's the first (from late last night):
Disintegrating floor
I am walking across a floor full of holes, large holes, holes of
various sizes--I can see right through it--it is a rusted metal floor
that is rotting and disintegrating and not safe. I am walking rapidly
across a narrow strip of reinforced metal, a thicker section of floor,
but still precarious. I am frightened, very scared. I wake up
scared.
The definition of a nightmare is a dream that wakes you up scared. I
seem to be having a lot of them lately. I think this one may relate
directly to the failure of the senate to bail out GM (though I
probably don't approve of it at one level), because if GM goes
bankrupt, not only will K lose his job, but also his retirement,
health benefits, everything.
There are other precarious things in my life, aging, my health,
Graham's situation at school, and so on.
Dream number two, early this morning: I am in a sewing group and
have agreed to be the treasurer. I say I will do it on a trial basis
and I am telling myself, don't agree to anything more, I'm already
overbooked. I have borrowed things because I do not have what I need.
Some I am returning now. Others I will take with me.
The dream continues, but I'm calling it a second dream, in a sense,
because it changes scene and theme.
After I leave the sewing group, collecting all my stuff, I get into
my red Ferrari and go home. I am living in a disintegrating
neighborhood. Things are falling apart. Some of my stuff has been
stolen. There is a large hole in the wooden fence in my backyard.
Someone walks down my driveway through my backyard and through the
hole in the fence. I wonder if he might be the thief. I yell, "Get
out of my yard" while he is still in the driveway, and as he
disappears through the fence, I yell, and don't come back.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008, 6:44 PM At the music store waiting for
Graham who is looking at music books hoping to find more popular music
he can learn. Not classical. We looked at keyboards, banjos, guitars,
ukuleles, harmonicas, but I am very tired because I did not sleep last
night, so now I am sitting and resting. Keith keeps offering to buy
me things: " want a piccolo?" I say, "I'd rather have a clarinet."
He says, I'll buy you one, $249 used like new." I'd have to have
lessons. It's been more than 40 years.
If I were to take up an instrument, it would be one I've played
before or a dulcimer or recorder. I've played clarinet, banjo,
guitar, harmonica, organ (sort of). I did play it, but never had
instruction. I did have instruction on clarinet, banjo, guitar.
So tired.
I sit at the Casio piano keyboard and play it for a while, and then
realize i stuck the computer in my pocket--yikes, dangerous, could
ruin it if it gets crushed or bent.
Saturday, December 20, 2008, 10;41 AM I am out on my mini
constitutional light dose walk and the sun is actually shining! YAY.
Yesterday, we had a snowstorm and I got my exercise and what little
light was available by shoveling for over two hours. I not only got
tired and sore, but I also got blisters, one of which has broken.
I am now walking between sunny snow banks crunching through cold
squeaky snow. The scene is peaceful and quiet.
I still have more shoveling to do because between the plow and the
man next door, there is more snow around my car. If I need to
somewhere I need to be able to get out and to get back in.
Blue sky and fine thin clouds.
I am wearing my boots to be broken in. I also wore them yesterday
while shoveling. I speak to a man shoveling snow. I walk through
bean boppers (honey locust pods). i am walking more slowly than usual
because I am stiff and sore, it's slippery, and I am wearing these
clumsy boots.
My mailman in his mail truck was stuck in deep snow at the curb,
rocking back and forth trying to get out. Just as he finally started
forward, a car coming out of the alley took a wide turn and almost hit
him head on. He retreated, but was able to make it out on the next
try.
I couldn't find the walnut oil. Sigh. Now I can't type any more
because I am carrying swaying bags.
Monday, December 22, 2008. It's officially winter. Calendar winter.
We had a pomegranate last night. Yum.
I had a dream this morning that I was walking along an ice-covered
steel ship, with rotted but slippery ice and holes and chutes in the
ship, walking along the precarious edge of the ship with the water far
below and the wall of the ship/cabin next to me--it was very narrow
and frightening.
Reminiscent of the precarious dream of walking across a rotted
floor--does that mean I should buy that house?
We're at the Coney.
I wasn't going to come because I can't get my food, safe food, but I did.
Keith has been laid off for the two days before Christmas that he was
scheduled to work--everyone at GM was, they shut the plant down. We
wrapped presents. But not all of them. Not by a long shot.
Yesterday we went x-c skiing at Belle Isle and it was One degree and
fiercely windy and we could barely make any headway against the wind.
It was unbearably cold and windy. We were planning to ski half an
hour or more but were so cold and windblown we barely skied for 15
minutes and my hand were terribly painful for the first 15 minutes of
the ride home.
I ate all my Coney food but was slightly gakked on the potatoes.
I need to stay home next time.
Trip to New York for Christmas Log, December 2008
Monday December 29, 2009, 1:25 PM
We are driving across Canada on our way to New York. The sun is
shining brilliantly, the roads are dry, and it is relatively warm.
All this after days of snow, rain, sleet, and high and gusty winds.
We had an early and cold winter and were afraid our trip might have to
be postponed or canceled and are happy to be on our way.
The scene is mostly grey brown with large swaths of leftover snow.
We have passed London and Woodstock. The Border crossing into Canada
was relatively quick. But there was a long line going into the USA so
the next border crossing might be slower. We picked up Graham from
Aunt Sandy at Denny's a few minutes early and he's sleeping in the
back. Keith is driving, Mary keeping the journal at the moment. Mary
has also been working on an art piece called Niche.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009, 12:22 PM I am out on my "morning" light
dose and constitutional walk to the store. It is cold so I may not be
able writ

Saturday, January 17, 2009

a picture for you

icon

Monday, January 05, 2009

Morning pages, 1-5-08, 9:06 AM

I don't want to spend too much time at this because it will throw my daily schedule off.  I want to stick to my early morning light dose and exercises and try to attack what needs most to be done early on.  But since one of the priorities of the new year is writing, I want to do quick morning pages to get me in the mood and to clear my mind for more important stuff.

Though it seems that starting right off revising poems or something might be a more productive use of my time.  It is sunny and bright out and I want to go out for my morning constitutional as soon as possible.  I have a hard time knowing which of the priorities I have should be first.  First things first, but which are the most firstest things?  Health?  Writing?  Healing?  Exercise, writing, light dose?  Cleaning?  Help!  I don't really KNOW how to prioritize and if I don't know that at 62 1/2, when will I?

I love seeing sunshine, we get so little of it at this time of year. Mostly it is cloudy.  Yesterday all day it was dismally dark, light twilight, and in the morning, freezing rain.

9:14  AM  If cleaning and chores etc were at all times to be more important than writing, writing would never occur.  Same with health issues.  There's needs to be a way to divide the time, a schedule.  Some sort of flexible schedule, because as soon as one is made, a problem occurs that conflicts with it.  I need:

  • time to write, time to send things out
  • time to eat
  • time to sleep
  • time to walk or run or bike or ski etc ("aerobics")
  • time to spend with Keith and Graham (family time)(and one to one romantic time)
  • social time, community time
  • time to clean
  • health time:  light dose, exercises, doctoring, tests, mammogram, etc
  • art
  • recreation
  • shower etc, basic personal maintenance (this takes longer than it used to!)
  • chores and tasks
  • spiritual time, spiritual practice, dream time

I have to go back and look at that pie diagram I made.  OK, I am out of time for now.  I will have to continue this later.  AK!  It is hard to think in bits.  But I must go.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

new poem

Saturday, January 03, 2009; 12:11:41 PM

 

"Morning Pages"

 

            Bah Humbug. 

 

            We are driving west on the Thruway toward home.  I hadn't even typed halfway through the first sentence before Tabitha, the computer I am using, screwed up and moved the cursor to some other place on the screen.  So I stopp.ed and went to the control panel and turned off the auto scroll function of the touch pad.  Tapping is left on.  This has been a problem since I owned this computer and none of my other computers do it.  I hope this helps. 

            Then the low battery signal came on.

            I am feeling tired and cranky and depressed and sad because we missed Sara and it is probably my fault but I did not know we'd confirmed for this morning and did not know what to do—I was afraid we would end up NOT getting together and then we would also miss breakfast at the hotel.  WAHN! WAHN WAHN and then I had a fight with Keith and I feel so depressed that . . .

            Sometimes I feel as if EVERYTHING is my fault and . . .

            Well, never mind.

            It is sunny and cloudy and the roads are nearly dry in spite of 3-4 inches of snow we had earlier.  It was the threat of this snow that made all the confusing over verifying our plans and the fact that we were out late with Hal and Annie.

            Meanwhile, the computer messes up multiple more times, and I have to keep stopping and fixing it and I have no idea what is causing the problem but it infuriates me and makes me not want to write on this computer.

            Keith announced that we'd driven 1/10 of the way (just over 40 miles) and now we're at Rochester at the wide road section.

            I ABSOLUTELY HATE this computer for writing on.

            I wonder if my thumbs are touching the touch pad inadvertently while I type and moving the cursor to a new spot.  I HATE IT!  None of my other computers have EVER done that and it JUST did it AGAIN!

            12:52 PM The traffic on the thruway is fairly bad.  Keith just reported that we've gone 2/10 of the way (80 miles).  The sun is shining and it is hot in the car.  I've been trying to do some art from scratch on the computer and that has been just as horrible and frustrating as trying to write, only for different reasons.  If feel really depressed about everything.  It seems so difficult.  Everything.

 

            I feel as if I am wasting time because I cannot accomplish anything at all while we're driving.  I'd like to accomplish something.  Graham is asleep; Keith is hassling with the traffic.  He's accomplishing something by driving us home.  And I am sitting here hassling with things that won't work accomplishing absolutely nothing.  GGGRRR!

           

I thought I might write a poem or a story.  I could work on my diet plan or write my New Year's resolutions.

 

            Something really weird has happened in Word on this computer.  It starts writing at the top of the page instead of showing where the margins are.  I hate that.  I tried switching views but that didn't help.

           

GOALS for 2009:

 

  1. LOSE WEIGHT.  I did lose weight in 2008, I think.  I won't really know for sure if I did overall for the year until I weigh myself tomorrow morning.  I've been eating bad food over the holidays and I hope I don't gain so much that I am as much as or more than I was a year ago because up until now, I was still lower than I had been a year ago.  We'll see.  There are 52 weeks in a year and if I could average losing only two pounds a week, I could weight 100 pounds less in a year.  Ha ha.  Sounds reasonable, but I've not been able to manage anything like that in years, not for extended periods—I always gain back what I lose and I am very fat.  However, hopeless as it may seem, I hereby set a goal of losing 50-100 pounds in 2009—or more, and KEEPING them off.  I know it's ridiculous, but I am going to try anyway starting soon.  Starting within a week.  Within a week from tomorrow.

 

We stopped to top off the gas tank at Clarence and we'll soon be coming to the last Thruway stop and then we'll be headed for Niagara.  Still mostly blue skies and all dry roads now.  This is good. 

 

  1. continued.  OK, my goal is to start dieting seriously on Monday January 12.  I can start sooner but not later unless there is a really good reason.  That will give me time to finish up my Holiday treats, plan what I'm going to eat, buy supplies, etc.  During that week I need to generally cut back on eating, especially desserts except treats from Sara.  I need to plan how I will attack the diet.  The goal then is to begin planning and cutting down and be seriously dieting by Monday January 12 with the exception of going out with Sam and Joan.

 

1:28 PM We are now off the Thruway and headed toward Niagara.

 

  1. CLEAN UP.  This seems to be another of those helpless hopeless goals for me.  But it is still a wish and a goal.  I don't even know how to begin to attack it, but somehow I must.  If I sorted even ONE box a week, I'd be ahead of where I am now.
  2. WRITE.  Choose ONE major project (and perhaps ONE minor one or back burner one) and set up a schedule and work on it UNTIL it is done.  Either Geraldine or Sissy.  I have to pick ONE and stick with it.
  3. Learn to use the new Cintiq. 

 

I need that diagram I made of the parts of my life that need attention.  I want to improve my relationship with Keith and everyone else (instead always messing things up).  I'd like to see a shrink and get shrunk.  I need to go to a GYN and get a mammogram.  I've never gotten that straightened around since I moved.  And go to a new sleep study and get new CPAP gear, as soon as the year is up since my last one.

 

  1. deal with health issues and medical issues including mental emotional health.  (see above).

 

I should look at my goals for other years.  Sigh.

 

OK, one of the things I wanted to do was to write a poem and/or a story and do some art at the beginning of 2009 to symbolically represent continuing to be a poet, writer and artist in 2009.  I already took some pictures, so I'm a photographer.

 

2:01 PM We are through customs and tolls and into Canada.  The sun is still shining, The roads are still dry.  This is the good part.

 

Let me think a little about Geraldine.  I may want to reinvent her a little bit.  Who is Geraldine?  Am I happy with who she is and who she's become?  (Or do I want to think about Sissy—who she is and who she's become?)

 

Geraldine and Ricky are both brain-damaged.  What does that mean exactly and how is it different from being "retarded?"  Brain damage can cause "retardation."  But besides being different genetically, what other differences are there?  DO I need to do some research?

 

What makes Geraldine ANGRY?  We've seen very little anger.  Ricky gets angry too. 

 

What poems are missing from the cycle and need to be written from scratch?  And what ones need to be revised or discarded?  And are these questions I can deal with NOW?  I am asking them because I wanted to write a poem for the new year and I was hoping it would be a "useful" poem.  Does every poem have to be useful?  I would like the effort I make to move the manuscript forward toward being publishable.  I wonder what Geraldine thinks of the new year.  Just how compromised is she?  I am tending toward wanting to make her somewhat LESS compromised than I had her at first.

 

I'd like to try to define who she is more clearly in my own mind so that I can write more effectively and consistently about her.  And Ricky, and all the characters in Geraldine's story.

 

AND I would like to do some further characterization of some of the characters in Sissy's story.  Especially Marc and Michael.

 

How much do I want Geraldine to be like the "real" Geraldine (and how well do I know what she was really like after all these years?)  I sort of need to answer these questions before  can write effectively about her.

 

I used to write poems about ME.  That was easier.  Whatever I wrote, whatever I was thinking or experiencing, was fair game because it WAS me.  Geraldine IS me, but isn't me, at the same time.  That makes it confusing.  I used to write poems at the drop of a hot.  Now it is harder.  Am I having "writer's block?"

 

It seems like a LOT of work.  Write about Ricky when he was Santa Claus in his Junior year in high school.  It would be best if Ethel didn't know about it.  So it wouldn't be at a play that Ethel would have attended.  Maybe he was just given the task of handing out candy in the classroom, or gifts to the small children, and Geraldine helped.  Maybe it was their senior year, not that long before the baby incident.

 

Santa's Helper

 

When the kids elected Ricky "Secret Santa"

and appointed Geraldine as Santa's helper,

Geraldine cheered and scampered up to retrieve

the Santa hats Mrs. Minor pulled from the decorated box.

She adjusted Ricky's hat, pulled the curls

out around his ears and leaned back to admire him.

Ricky stood at the front with the big red sack

while Geraldine pulled out the gifts.  Mrs. Minor helped

them read the tags.  Ricky and Geraldine

took turns delivering the gifts until everyone

received their present.  Then they passed out

cookies and punch.

 

This is an unfinished "deliberate" poem, rather than an inspired poem.  Inspired poems occur for me when something moves against something else in such a way that for a moment, I see, as in a "flash," some connection, something beautiful or resonant, and often, it is only the tip of the iceberg.  The exploration of the connection, if successful, brings to light a meaningful connection, a thing of beauty at least to me.

 

Deliberate poems tend to be clunky and difficult and often prosaic.  They are crafted from nothing but story and hope.  What is it that makes a poem lilting and lovely—what it it that steals your breath and captures your mind?  Some image, some deep inner truth—and where do you find that in a prosaic world.  I seem to be inhabiting a prosaic world again.  L

 

This poem needs a turn.  If it starts out happy, does that mean the turn must be unhappy?  Or can there be some other kind of surprise?  No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.  Where is the surprise in this poem?  I feel as if I want to write a sort of formulaic poem, which resembles a number of the other Geraldine poems.  When they are returning the trays to the cafeteria, eg:  Ricky says he has another present for Geraldine, and gives her a surreptitious kiss and they stand and watch as a small herd of deer emerges from the trees in a lightly falling snow.  But that reminds me of the wedding poem and is the surprise surprising?

 

In a poem, one isn't supposed to have to carry the reader on one's back like a cross.  One  isn't supposed to have to build a bridge brick by brick.  Poems are supposed to LEAP!  This one has NO LEAPS!

 

Santa's Helper

 

When the kids elected Ricky "Secret Santa"

and appointed Geraldine as Santa's helper,

Ricky stood at the front with the big red sack

while Geraldine pulled out the gifts.  Mrs. Minor helped

them read the tags.  Ricky and Geraldine

took turns delivering the gifts until everyone

received their present.  Then they passed out

cookies and punch.

Ricky says he has another present for Geraldine, and gives her a surreptitious kiss and they stand and watch as a small herd of deer emerges from the trees in a lightly falling snow. 

 

Maybe he just squeezes her hand, but a kiss would seem more like a gift.  Maybe he has ring and she has to hide it.  Maybe Ricky isn't elected, but unanimously nominated.  But why?

 

Santa's Helper

(How Geraldine gets her first kiss, December, 1966?)

 

"Ricky, Ricky! Ricky for Santa!" the kids all shout

when Mrs. Minor asks who they want to deliver

their "Secret Santa" presents.  "And who

will be Santa's assistant?" she asks.  "Geraldine! Geraldine!"

Geraldine leaps from her seat, cheers and scampers

up to retrieve the Santa hats from Mrs. Minor. 

She adjusts Ricky's hat, sweeps the curls

out around his ears and leans back

to admire him.  He sets her hat crooked on her head,

shuffles his feet, and blushes.  Smiles.  Dances a little jig.

He holds the big red sack while Geraldine lifts out the gifts. 

Mrs. Minor helps them read the tags.  Ricky and Geraldine

take turns delivering the gifts until everyone

receives their present.  Then they pass out punch

and cookies, stockings from Mrs. Minor,

and candy kisses.  Ricky holds a foil-wrapped kiss

in the palm of his hand.  "I want to give you a kiss,"

he says, placing the candy in Geraldine's hand

with a flourish.  As Geraldine unwraps the kiss,

five deer emerge from the woods behind the school,

lifting their heads in the falling snow.

 

Mary Stebbins Taitt, 090103-16351b

 

OK, it's getting a little better, it almost a reasonable facsimile of a copy of one of the other Geraldine poems.  But it isn't right yet.  Just a little closer, I think.

 

It is 4:42 PM.  We are on the bridge to the USA.  On the UP side of the bridge—so we have to go up this side and down the other to get to customs.  We're in stopped traffic and move ahead a little once in a while.  We've been here since 4:37 and before that we were in line to pay our toll.  K guesses 25 minutes.  The clouds are grey on the bottom and tinged with orange on the top.  The sky is pale pale blue.  Some of the clouds are dramatic.  The river is flowing in the middle and frozen on the sides and there is ice going way out into the lake.

 

4:48 PM we suddenly moved faster, are moving forward.  K says, maybe they finished cleaning up after the shoot out with the illegal aliens and I say you mean they mopped up the blood and bits of flesh and he says yeah and the shattered glass and bits of exploded cars.  We come up over the hump of the bridge under the sign that says welcome to Michigan and I say, Two countries.  Half the car is in the US and half in Canada.  The sky is brilliant at the horizon with contrails and sunset.  I want to turn Tabitha off at just the right moment as to be able to put her away before we get up to customs, as I have been chastised for having the computer running during questioning, "We don't want anyone recording our questions," they said.  They made me turn off the computer before proceeding with questioning—but I have tiny recording devices I could turn on it I wanted to—that was just mean and stupid.  I didn't want to, why would I care what they were asking?  I am not a terrorist.

 

My feet hurt, they hurt more than they've hurt for a LONG time.  L  Prolly something I ate.

 

 

Santa's Helper

(How Geraldine gets her first kiss, December, 1965 or 6?)

 

 

"Ricky, Ricky! Ricky for Santa!" the kids all shout

when Mrs. Minor asks who they want to deliver

their "Secret Santa" presents.  "And who

will be Santa's assistant?" she asks.  "Geraldine! Geraldine!"

Geraldine leaps from her seat, cheers and scampers

up to retrieve the Santa hats from Mrs. Minor. 

She adjusts Ricky's hat, sweeps the curls

out around his ears and leans back

to admire him.  Perfect.

 

Ricky sets Geraldine's hat crooked on her head,

shuffles his feet, and blushes.  Smiles.  Dances a little jig.

He holds the big red sack while Geraldine lifts out the gifts. 

Mrs. Minor helps them read the tags.  Ricky and Geraldine

take turns delivering the gifts until everyone

receives their present.  Then they pass out punch

and cookies, stockings from Mrs. Minor,

and candy kisses.  Ricky holds a foil-wrapped kiss

in the palm of his hand.  "I want to give you a kiss,"

he says, placing the candy in Geraldine's hand

with a flourish. 

 

As Geraldine unwraps the kiss, five deer emerge

like reindeer from the woods behind the school,

lifting their heads dark in the falling snow.

 

 

Mary Stebbins Taitt, 090103-16351b

 

5:03 PM Well, it's been 25 minutes and we're just sitting here.  We moved over to the left.  But now these lines aren't moving at all.



--
I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary