DESPAIR OF SIMPLICTY

 36 of #100daychallenge

Dinner plate dahlias.

I guess this is catch-up day as I find myself drawn to the keyboard instead of the tv. I did get a fair amount of reading done, although I will need to devote more time to it if I am going to get anywhere in How The Irish Saved Civilization. I was reading it while waiting to see my knee doctor, McShane, who is one awesome osteo doc. Her x-ray tech, Kenny, asked me about it and then another woman waiting to see McShane joined in the conversation about Rome, Byzantium, and history in general. That gives me some kind of hope.

I have not really been able to wake up after my afternoon nap. Do I need to be productive all the time? I feel I should be as there is so much to do around here, even to "break even" on the cleanliness/organization front. I didn't really want to, though. I didn't want to watch anything (my viewing time is down to, like, an hour a day) or read, or even play solitaire. What I really wanted to do was talk to someone, connect, eat a dinner with someone besides the cats. 

Poor Janet is in so much pain. McShane and I discussed a shoulder replacement for her, but the downsides of anesthesia at her age are significant. Janet has an appointment with her excellent geriatrician next week to see about her overall meds and see if a stronger pain killer is possible. There isn't so much that I can do besides a cbd oil massage. 

The climbing roses on the north side of the house, on the fence, are about to explode, for the first time. I don't remember when I planted this particular rose bush, but it might have been last year. I went around to deadhead the roses and some of the other plants, but there are so many, like the dianthus, that it would take more attention span than I could spare ... or is that muster.

I do have a window open. This one has a screen that seems fairly intact although no one has really explored trying to bust it open. I can smell the copious jasmine drifting up from the cluster by my mom's room behind me. The screens on her windows are shot, so she isn't getting either fresh air or scent. 

Do little barking dogs ever sleep? There is always one going at any given time around here.

I've been working on my application to teach at the City Hall. My fear of commitment comes up. And then I realize I will be cutting into my evening swim time. Lap swimming is very controlled still and I haven't been able to sign up for a lane at my usual, preferred "swimming hole," Palm Park Pool. (Idrisse has arrived in the window to see if she can't work her way out as she often does.) I think the SFS City Pool may open in June and sometimes they have noon swimming. That level of exercise is a dim memory now.

 Smells so lovely in here, I want to sleep at my desk.

I like this Delia Ephron thought: 

Craft satisfaction comes from making something with your hands. In terms of education, it is practically obsolete.  

Cooking and even ironing can give a lot or a little of that satisfaction. Last week, when I made dinner for Debee and Mom, they were amazed that I would put that much work into a weekday dinner. But it really wasn't THAT much work. And feeling my (limited) mastery in the kitchen made it a pleasure not a chore in the slightest. Plus, Deb did the dishes.

This one made me chuckle.

CAPS

People should be

open on top like a cup.

A piece of bread

should be able to sop

some of us up.

We should be milk-like

or like wine. We should

not have to be trying

to get our caps off all the time.

The storybook boy

attempts the simple gesture

of baring his head

for his emperor,

but another hat has appeared.

This happens over and over

Who does not share

his despair of simplicity,

of acting clearly and with dignity?

And what pleasure can we find

in the caps, brightly feathered

and infinitely various,

that pile up so high they bury us?

— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, Grove Press, New York, 2010