Sunday, September 29, 2013

dandelion in the grass

nothing sadder
than one lone
dandelion among the blades of grass.
if you asked
i could tell you what is sadder
than one lone
dandelion among the blades of grass;
but you don't ask,
you don't notice one dandelion
or loneliness.
you stand in the grass
and you think you see everything.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Monday Morning

awake to urgency, I must
make it to the urinal on time
then let the dog outside
to relieve his urge as well.
the moon slices the sky
and hides the dawn riders,
the bugs and the bats who fly
one last round before the sun rises.

I look up and wonder what I am
seeing: are those four lights
the stars of the big dipper or
are they planets or planes
moving slowly? one flickers,
a flying object. it passes and three
random specks are left.
oh well, I will find the big dipper
another day...

in one hour, I will be
entombed in corporate life
where nothing flies or flickers
or pisses on the grass.

(PS.. I don't actually use a urinal. That word just seemed to fit the poem better.)

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

i have been neglecting the blog in favor of twitter

I will not give up on the blog because I sincerely believe folks will  get tired of Facebook. The great masses of people will return to read our blogs, just believe.

Of course, 100 years ago there was probably someone saying "I won't give up on horses because I sincerely believe folks will get tired of  automobiles. The great masses of people will return to horse and buggies."
Actually, I am not even sure Facebook is the "IT" thing any longer. Most ladies my age seem to talk about Pintrest more than F**king. (facebooking, what did you think I meant?)

Well, my time is being spent on Twitter but that is mostly because I am lazy. It is easier to deal with 144 characters than write anything longer.
This morning I dropped this thought on the world via Twitter:

Keep a positive attitude! If you see a public toilet that has been pee'd on, think "at least they didn't crap on it".

(Of course that is more of a chick thing since we sit when doing our business.  Regardless of whether you stand or sit, remember the toilet seat is not half pee'd on, it's half clean.)

"This City is of Night, but not sleep; there sweet sleep is not for the weary brain. The pitiless hours like years and ages creep..." From a poem by James B.V. Thomson
Painting by me...entitled "Insomnia"

Thursday, July 4, 2013

This critter sent me running into the house for a mop. (Not to hurt him, just to protect myself.) In my defense the leaves were covering him & I didn't realize he was a garter snake at first.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

What have I been doing with my Time?

Well, working, reading, hanging out in the back yard with my dog and hanging out inside with my cats. I have been listening to internet radio (old time radio shows, science podcasts, Blindy.TV etc etc)

AND...I have been obssessively watching this new TV show on the YouTube.

The show is called Corner Gas...
It is Canadian. It is Funny. LOVE IT.

Corner Gas S02: E10 - Mosquito Time

Sunday, June 2, 2013


I am trying to read. Lots & lots of books. I want to absorb as many words as possible while I can.
I think the end of Borders affected me more than I will admit. When I was 21ish I worked in the purchasing department at Book Inventory Systems which is what the Borders' headquarters was called in the 80's. I guess I knew the book business would change but I expected Borders to survive in some form. They didn't and now I worry other brick and mortar book stores will disappear as well.
It occurs to me how very very very lucky I am to live in a city with a good library, a Barnes & Noble, and several used bookstores. If we go to e-readers entirely then suddenly being able to read is directly tied to being able to afford electronic devices and an internet connection.
This would be a step backwards.
Perhaps it is an overstatement to say all that is good in this world is related to the increasing literacy of the world citizens. I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that, but I love to read so I am biased.
But the truth is books are there for people who don't love to read as well. In order to learn one must read or, at least, listen to a teacher who has read. Even folks who work in trades need words. A mechanic may read from a catalog of supplies when ordering a muffler. A cook reads recipes. A fisherman reads the weather report before setting sail. This alone is proof enough that we still need access to not just ephemeral words on a computer screen but also words on paper. I would suggest that folks also need access to books to read for no other reason but pleasure.
The mechanic reads Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
The cook reads Like Water for Chocolate.
The fisherman reads The Old Man and the Sea.
These may not teach but the readers would be better off for having read them.
In the end, it doesn't matter by what format a book is read, except that some formats inherently limit who gets to read what.

So, as I said before, I am trying to read as much as possible. I am buying books and squirelling them away like a hoarder .

I am reading a lot. All sorts of books. I read three at a time: one non-fiction, one classic, one genre or non-classic fiction.

Currently one of the books I am reading is Burr by Gore Vidal (I am counting it as a classic). It was published originally around 1973. It is still in print, thank goodness. Let us hope it and other books survive into the future for as many readers as possible.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Top Ten Reasons I Don't Blog Much Any Longer

(1. Parco fiume Ticino - Zelata - mulino, 2. The.Magician, 3. Waiting In Line, 4. Chemical Co.

Created with fd's Flickr Toys and originally posted on my collage blog in 2008 or 2009)



Thursday, May 23, 2013

I wish this picture were scratch and sniff. Well, unless you don't like the scent of lilacs.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Well, that was a crap-assed week, wasn't it?

I had a day off work on 04/15/13. I spent the morning getting my taxes done at a local business. The guy who did my taxes drove to work on a scooter so I am calling him Scooter Boy. Scooter Boy is literally half my age and not really a "boy" in any sense except that he seemed really young to me.
(46 divided by 2=23)
Wow. I have finally hit the age where folks who are half my age are full fledged adults.

Anyway, I came home, turned on the Ellen show, went into the kitchen to make coffee and came back to see the Boston Marathon bomb coverage. What can I say that hasn't already been said? It sucked. Of course it did. It sucks no matter where it happens and no matter who it happens to, but to bomb bystanders and runners at the 26 mile marker which was dedicated to the Newtown 26 seems particularly malevolent.

Then, we see the pictures of the suspects. Boys. The week ends with the 19 year old bomber boy hiding in a boat while MASSIVE and OVER THE TOP news coverage watches. 19. He is younger than Scooter Boy who did my taxes. How does one kid take the path that ends in being a bomber and the other kid take the path that ends in riding his scooter to work on April 15?
I suspect the paths are closer together than we think and that is the challenge. How do we as humans nudge our young people away from evil choices towards productive, benevolent choices?

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Forgetfulness - Billy Collins


The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. 

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Fwd: The Shed

This is the shed in my backyard in desperate need of fixing. How long would you guess that to be? I said 5 feet (front to back). I was wrong.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Fwd: Good TV Friday

Watching vintage Redd Foxx ....