of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour —
 |
| Evening, hallway hazard. |
I certainly don't know about any of you, as we polite people don't talk about money, we polite Americans, but I, for at least one, get very stressed out about making those (too few) dollars stretch. This was a big expenditure month with some bigger bills falling due, as they are wont to do. Insurance! Insurance! Insurance! I guess I won't be purchasing that new wisteria for the front yard. (As if I had planted the trailing lilac I bought a couple of weeks ago. Well, hey, I am keeping it watered, yo.) Plus, a couple of extra meals out for Janet's birthday.
And going to the movies! We saw The Shape of Water. Mom didn't like it very much and said she was never going to the movies again. After a lifetime of going to the movies, that experience didn't seem like a good one to end on. Fifty Shades Forever? (Or is that Fifty Shades Free?) She was name checking George Clooney, Irene Dunne, and the like (I know those two are not contemporaneous.) I enjoyed going to the movies, and I think it is good for her to get out of her comfort zone, so we will go again.
And so many projects. Just doesn't slow down much. The sleep and motivational issues can really smack up against one another. Last night, I made the homemade chicken-turkey breakfast sausage that has been on my to-do list. And one would rather not let 3 pounds of dead animal get thrown out. . Well, the sausage was made but goes to waste anyway as I accidentally used a reactive saucepan to reduce the apple cider. When I had put everything anyway and was doing the dishes, well, there was a lot of paint missing from the bottom of the pan. And my best guess is that that paint is now in that sausage. As I was cooking, I realized I would not be able to sleep if I did not clean the kitchen floor. A late night and a late morning. And we know how that goes.
And so it goes (in the trash, next trash day).
In better news, I just saw my first monarch of the season, checking out a calendula. There's a sweet flowery smell in the garden, faint but discernible, that just might be the Carolina Jessamine that is really blooming for the first time this year. I might even be inspired to do some gardening, if I can just get a better handle on the writing that MUST BE DONE. (Not this.)
Well, I best go round up LaMaMa and take her to the therapy gym before it gets much later. Sigh. Note to self: Progress was made.
Before I go, I have to recommend a movie to those of you who 1) like French language films, (2) have a few extra dollars, and (3) can stomach a sad movie about women under constraints due to religion. Every year about this time is the online French film festival. I know there are plenty of French films on Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime (oh that renewal was another extra cost this month) that I have yet to watch, but I enjoy seeing some newer releases. Of course, I never remember before the fact and always have to "cram" in a bunch of them before the deadline. At any rate, you can rent this one film from iTunes for $2.00 (the whole festival is about $9). (Here are some reviews: http://www.artitute.com/2017/02/08/a-wedding-you-shouldnt-miss-film-review-of-noces-a-wedding/,
https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/a-wedding-noces-review-938714.) The movie is A Wedding (Noces). I watched after coming back from seeing The Shape of Water. Noces is the one I can't stop thinking about.
The next day ...
A) There are many windows open that you did not personally open and iTunes has stopped playing.
Q) What is your cats were walking on your laptop?
Also, was feeling a bit blue, not sure what to do with my sad energy. I have the usual piles of stuff, plus a deadline on health insurance tomorrow. And then, gardening occurred to me. I planted some of those plants you saw a week ago or so, as well as trimming some plants with stickers in bare feet with no gloves (bougainvillea, roses, boysenberries). Now I need to take a bath and see if I can't soak out the stickers.
I've been trying to finish this post for a few days. Couldn't find a poem or anything to share or was too tired to proofread. Time to let this one go.
A PORTRAIT OF THE READER WITH A BOWL OF CEREAL
"A poet ... never speaks directly.
as to someone at the breakfast table."
— Yeats
Every morning I sit across from you
at the same small table,
the sun all over the breakfast things —
curve of a blue-and-white pitcher,
a dish of berries —
me in a sweatshirt or robe,
you invisible.
Most days, we are suspended
over a deep pool of silence.
I stare straight through you
or look out the windows at the garden,
the powerful sky,
a clouds passing behind a tree.
There is no need to pass the toast,
the pot of jam,
or pour you a cup of tea,
and I can hide behind the paper
rotate in its drum of calamitous news.
But some days I may notice
a little door swinging open
in the morning air,
and maybe the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour —
then I will lean forward,
elbows on the table,
with something to tell you,
and you will look up, as always,
your spoon dripping milk, ready to listen.
— Billy Collins, Picnic, Sky, Pittsburg, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1998
the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour —
And going to the movies! We saw The Shape of Water. Mom didn't like it very much and said she was never going to the movies again. After a lifetime of going to the movies, that experience didn't seem like a good one to end on. Fifty Shades Forever? (Or is that Fifty Shades Free?) She was name checking George Clooney, Irene Dunne, and the like (I know those two are not contemporaneous.) I enjoyed going to the movies, and I think it is good for her to get out of her comfort zone, so we will go again.
And so many projects. Just doesn't slow down much. The sleep and motivational issues can really smack up against one another. Last night, I made the homemade chicken-turkey breakfast sausage that has been on my to-do list. And one would rather not let 3 pounds of dead animal get thrown out. . Well, the sausage was made but goes to waste anyway as I accidentally used a reactive saucepan to reduce the apple cider. When I had put everything anyway and was doing the dishes, well, there was a lot of paint missing from the bottom of the pan. And my best guess is that that paint is now in that sausage. As I was cooking, I realized I would not be able to sleep if I did not clean the kitchen floor. A late night and a late morning. And we know how that goes.
And so it goes (in the trash, next trash day).
In better news, I just saw my first monarch of the season, checking out a calendula. There's a sweet flowery smell in the garden, faint but discernible, that just might be the Carolina Jessamine that is really blooming for the first time this year. I might even be inspired to do some gardening, if I can just get a better handle on the writing that MUST BE DONE. (Not this.)
Well, I best go round up LaMaMa and take her to the therapy gym before it gets much later. Sigh. Note to self: Progress was made.
Before I go, I have to recommend a movie to those of you who 1) like French language films, (2) have a few extra dollars, and (3) can stomach a sad movie about women under constraints due to religion. Every year about this time is the online French film festival. I know there are plenty of French films on Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime (oh that renewal was another extra cost this month) that I have yet to watch, but I enjoy seeing some newer releases. Of course, I never remember before the fact and always have to "cram" in a bunch of them before the deadline. At any rate, you can rent this one film from iTunes for $2.00 (the whole festival is about $9). (Here are some reviews: http://www.artitute.com/2017/02/08/a-wedding-you-shouldnt-miss-film-review-of-noces-a-wedding/,
https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/a-wedding-noces-review-938714.) The movie is A Wedding (Noces). I watched after coming back from seeing The Shape of Water. Noces is the one I can't stop thinking about.
The next day ...
A) There are many windows open that you did not personally open and iTunes has stopped playing.
Q) What is your cats were walking on your laptop?
Also, was feeling a bit blue, not sure what to do with my sad energy. I have the usual piles of stuff, plus a deadline on health insurance tomorrow. And then, gardening occurred to me. I planted some of those plants you saw a week ago or so, as well as trimming some plants with stickers in bare feet with no gloves (bougainvillea, roses, boysenberries). Now I need to take a bath and see if I can't soak out the stickers.
A PORTRAIT OF THE READER WITH A BOWL OF CEREAL
"A poet ... never speaks directly.
as to someone at the breakfast table."
— Yeats
Every morning I sit across from you
at the same small table,
the sun all over the breakfast things —
curve of a blue-and-white pitcher,
a dish of berries —
me in a sweatshirt or robe,
you invisible.
Most days, we are suspended
over a deep pool of silence.
I stare straight through you
or look out the windows at the garden,
the powerful sky,
a clouds passing behind a tree.
There is no need to pass the toast,
the pot of jam,
or pour you a cup of tea,
and I can hide behind the paper
rotate in its drum of calamitous news.
But some days I may notice
a little door swinging open
in the morning air,
and maybe the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour —
then I will lean forward,
elbows on the table,
with something to tell you,
and you will look up, as always,
your spoon dripping milk, ready to listen.
— Billy Collins, Picnic, Sky, Pittsburg, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1998
the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour —
We have the same "evening hallway hazard" as you do, but two, currently, and in different colors. Billy Collins makes me laugh. And my test of a good film is one I keep thinking about afterwards. I will look for Noces.
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