Friday, April 29, 2011

(the Dora "Mail" song -- or is it Blue's Clues?)

I am inordinately enthusiastic about the arrival of our mailman now. More than usual.

Got my first R.S.V.P. back yesterday, that's why!

Thursday, April 28, 2011


An anxious and sweaty night down in our basement, with the dog pacing back and forth between us and an incredible amount of lightning. But we are safe, we are dry, we are all in one piece, as is our house and our town. Thank You, Father!

This morning I got up, took a shower, and picked up this laptop with the intention of checking my email, and seeing if one particular friend had responded to a Facebook message I sent her yesterday. That should take all of five minutes, maximum.

Here I am, a good thirty minutes later. This is absolutely disgraceful. I haven't been doing anything harmful, just browsing blogs, browsing clothing sites like Modcloth, or the few wedding blogs I keep up with.

Reader, I am sick of it.

I want a real life, not an Internet life.

Get off your sofa, stop reading my blog, and go outside. Read a book. Have a real conversation.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

a Jonah day

My mom and I went on a quest this afternoon, involving ordering wedding programs and picking out flowers to plant in the corner of our flower garden. As we were finishing up at Wal-Mart, we called my dad to see about supper plans and if he wanted to meet us at our favorite restaurant. I watched my mother's face droop...

A water line in our basement had leaked almost two inches of water in our basement. It was up to the threshold of the door, completely soaking the carpet, furniture, everything. Our basement is a bit of a catch-all for storage, old cozy furniture, and my mom's scrap-booking stuff. All of my wedding gifts so far are stored down there, a wonderful antique cabinet Andrew's mom bought us for a wedding gift, my mom's photographs . . . I don't think anything is ruined, but it sure as heck is soaked.

We swept and swept water out, wrestled the carpet to hang it up outside, took my wet wedding gifts upstairs, took them out of their ruined cardboard boxes, and laid them out on towels upstairs to dry.

Supper just now, and we'll probably sleep down here in the basement, since the weather promises to be violent and tornadic tonight. Did I mention I'm terrified of storms?

I'm ready for the new earth.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Warming Up

The ten thousand hours are newly begun, so here goes.

Bartimaeus or Me?

One denarius, one bite of bread,
one sip of water for the summer heat,
a cloak, a sandal, a fig, a touch--
have mercy.

Someone to wash my head, my feet, my hands,
to cleanse my stench, my sweat, my unseen filth,
to pause a moment from the hurry--
have mercy.

Describe the day for me: Jericho,
the donkey braying, a merchant's spices,
children's games, the temple offerings--
have mercy.

Please speak my name! Hear my pleading.
Let your robes brush my feet as you pass; when
you are safely home, remember me--
have mercy.


Who leads the coming crowd? I heard the name;
I know his fame if the stories are true.
Son of David! I too am a man--
have mercy!

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

The Poetry Project

Anyone who takes writing seriously will tell you that if you want to write, you must read. You cannot settle for mediocrity, unless you wish to write as such. Read what you want to write. To write well, you must read well.

And so, I've decided to really be serious. I want to write poetry. I want to be a poet. So, I'm reading poetry. I have dozens of books of works by individual poets, but I need a broader base than that to get back in the game. I am rusty, out of practice, out of familiarity. So, I've turned to my good friend Norton. The Norton Anthology of Poetry. It gives me a good sampling of styles, poets, ideas, etcetera. I want to read it through, cover to cover. I may not make a poem a day, or even reading anything every day, but that's my goal. A little something every day. Read a little something, and then write a little something. In and out, flexing those muscles again, keeping their atrophy at bay.

Ten thousand hours begins now.