THE REALER PART

 44 of 100daychallenge

The neighbor behind me is taking some kind of     ch=----------[ ... that was Fox walking over the keyboard and stopping to smell the coffee ... as I was saying ... taking a damn chainsaw to the rose bushes which pleasantly peeked over the back fence. They have nice orange and tangerine trees as well and they are butchering them. One branch hangs into our garden and they can't quite get to them. As a gardener, the sound is sad, misguided, and unpleasant.

Later.

Another day gone by. I took Janet to see E. McShane, her orthopedic doc, for a cortisone shot to her right shoulder. We love McShane so it is more like visiting a friend with cortisone than a doctor visit. There were no Domineers today, so after McShane, I dropped off Janet and headed to Urgent Care to get my spider bite looked at. After finding myself hospitalized for a black widow spider bite in NYC in 1994, I don't like to mess around. It was most unpleasant. (NY doesn't have black widow spiders; it came in on the things I had shipped from California.)

Afterwards, I indulged my gardening instinct to go to my current favorite nursery to get more plants for my new beds. Cosmos, zinnias, dahlias, phlox, nasturtiums, and some spikey California native came home with me. After that, I was rather done for the day. It was pretty hot and the prospect of cool sheets under a nice fan proved a greater pull than productivity.  When I woke from a nice nap, I staggered out to the garden to get most of the new plants in and spread some snail death where needed. 

I find it frustrating and unfortunate the even when I cook from complete scratch, Janet generally eschews what I have made. I am no slouch in the kitchen, so this is a disincentive to put in the effort. I had some hamburger meat that needed using (given to us, I never buy it) so I made a pasta sauce. The spaghetti pasta I found opened was whole wheat, so I gave that a shot. Sadly, the pasta sauce was greasier than my preference and the whole wheat pasta far from my toothsome favorite. I did think the sauce was pretty good, though.

Tomorrow, I get the results of my tb test which looks fine. There is some discussion about whether I have enough time to get everything filed in time to teach in two weeks. I will know more tomorrow, but it may be July before I can get started. Or even when I get home from my desired long trip to NY.

God, I am so boring. 

I can't really even make myself read right now, which is a bad situation to be in if you are trying to get through Ulysses. I have kept up with my gardening and writing goals (more or less) but I cannot get engaged in reading anything. Maybe finally realizing the childhood dream of a library took all the chi out of wanting to read.

The jacaranda is making a purple mess everywhere. I can see why my neighbors hate it. On the other hand, after this phase, the tree is all green and provides very good shade for their house. Until I started trying to garden underneath it, I didn't pay too much attention to its damn deciduous nature. Having the tree trimmed has lessened the flowers on their property significantly, but when the wind/breeze comes up, and it generally does of an evening, there is more mess. 

Idrisse, Fox, and McCoy are all gathered around my desk. They would probably like it if I had a U-shaped desk so that they could inhabit the flanks. 

Slightly later.

I just took a delicious cat nap with Nina. Sometime, just a cuddle and purr are all you need to set you straighter.

My doorbell rang this afternoon, just before naptime. It was Manny, the fellow I leave out my recycling and leftover food for. He wanted to further thank me, introduce himself, and tell me that I was helping him help two elderly people (one of whom is 102!). He also wanted to let me know that he was going to be gone for five weeks, but he was most profuse in his appreciation. Nothing like doing almost nothing and getting thanked for it to make you humble. He was very very sweet.

CHART

There is a big

figure, your age,

crawling, then

standing, now

beginning to bend

as he crosses

the stage. Or

she. A blurred

and generalized

projection of you

and me. For a

long time it seems

as remote

from the self

as the ape chart

where they rise up

and walk into man.

And then it seems

the realer part.

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