My little story
She never came to visit. The house called on the mice, I'm alone here, why don't you come and live with me. The mice got together, under the rocks, had a meeting about moving. It's time to go help the house.
They packed up all their mouse belongings and went inside.
They had a great time, dancing on the sofa, climbing the stairs, running through the stove's burners. They called other mice, told them to move from the trees and from under the rocks and join them.
Hundreds of mice walked up the driveway.
The house wasn't happy. You didn't make her come back, call her again.
The mice conferred again, this time in the attic, one said, if she comes back, we'll have to leave, eventually.
These humans hate living with us.
We've gotten use to being inside, it's comfortable, we've set up little tables for cafes, we've made beds under the mattress, we've gotten fat here.
The mice brought in a red tailed squirrel for consultation.
Maybe you can cheer up the house.
How am I going to get in, I can't fit through the little openings you squeeze through.
The mice looked around, sent scouts up to the ceiling.
They came back with news. we think he can get through the fireplace.
It'll be difficult, he may slip up there, but it's worth a try.
We've also got an army of bugs waiting to come in. Will that bring her back ? Where you've been, said the mouse in charge, they've got poisons for bugs all over this place.
Maybe the squirrels can talk to the mosquitos, no, we already tried that, the mosquitos are happy outside, lots of humans waiting to be bitten, what about the ants, the second in command mouse said.
Which ants, the mouse committee asked.
What about carpenter ants, there's lots of wood here ,they'd have a feast everyday.
The next night the carpenter ants moved in, single file marching up the three stairs bringing their tribe with them.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Old Friends, New Friends, No Friends
Maybe people who know you for a long time don't know you at all.
It's like that Gabriel Garcia Marquez quote, "I know my wife so well I don't know her at all."
Those we know, we don't give space to their lives. Maybe it's not we, maybe others do give space, I don't.
Except for a few, those I love and don't fear losing.
Then, watching them change becomes beautiful.
It's those I am not sure about, is that what I mean?
It's a struggle for me to see those closest to me as changing.
I know them, don't I ? Maybe I don't. Maybe I could give them a chance to change, and then maybe I could too.
Saw an old friend, made lots of judgements about who she is and who she thought I was.
I didn't give her a chance to change.
And I didn't feel she gave me a chance.
She told me I was hard on myself. I cried.
Is that what all this is, that I'm hard on myself, unrelenting, always wanting to be better ? Better than what?
She told me I'm not judgemental, she's doesn't know me, I judged...
I am such a work in progress some days I don't know how I have the courage to get up and live another day in this imperfect body and soul.
I want so much to do the right thing. And yet, so many times it goes past me as I fumble through some awful thing I say or do.
I am getting better though. Little by little I'm watching the moment fly by and sometimes I catch it before it completely disappears and I retrieve the thing I want to do and stop the awful thing I was going to do or say.
Also, why do I let people explain simple things to me, without stopping them.
My friend asked me if I knew that an author's work was just a theory, not fact? I nodded that I understood that.
Did she really think I believed it was written in the sky ?
Then my brother tried to explain EZPAss to me.
He said I was defensive, but did he really think by explaining in that sweet, kind voice that people use when they are talking to someone they think has no clue what is going on, how ezpass worked....
Maybe it was a miscommunication ? I don't know.
Ok friends and brother, I understand that a person writes a book and it is their opinion, and I understand how ezpass works....
Now I sorta get what people say about their kids talking to them as if they don't understand things...
That's all just another thought too. I hold on, I'm not a watcher of clouds in the sky. thoughts coming and going.
No, not yet, they stay right in front of me. I stare at them.
But my question is : Why can't I respond in the moment, tell the person how I feel, what I understand and move on, let the clouds roll by....
Sometimes I can't believe someone is actually explaining some simple concept to me. Is it me ?
New friends, they are eager to find out who you are, they don't know what you'll say or do. there is no history, no backstory, it's all front story to them.
I like that.
Maybe I need more new friends.
And then there's no friends, I tend to stay alone at the house, my house.
I tend to spend a lot of time looking at the trees, sweeping the floor, arranging and rearranging things, ideas, feelings.
I do my best to not imagine the house in the future.
I do my best to enjoy it for what it is now, broken shingles,
no front door, chipped and peeling paint.
I do my best to not say to myself, "if only,"
that's a trap I've fallen into too many times.
I do my best to look around at what has gone right, at what I did that worked, although sometimes I wonder if there's anything.
It's peaceful there without the strain of ambition and goals.
My friend has a lot of plans, "I'm not planning these days," she told me and then she started telling me her future plans.
I guess we all do that.
Even when we're not planning there's some event or happening in the future we're looking forward to.
How can you live in the present moment by moment ?
Upstate, it's easier. There's little distraction.
In Manhattan, there's too many worlds, which one to look at, travel to first. It makes my head spin.
Up there, in that little corner of earth, there's a stream,
trees, sun and wind, ambling creatures in the woods.
Ambition comes in short bursts. I'll sweep the floor, make some tea, sit on the chair and watch the water that moves unceasingly.
It's like that Gabriel Garcia Marquez quote, "I know my wife so well I don't know her at all."
Those we know, we don't give space to their lives. Maybe it's not we, maybe others do give space, I don't.
Except for a few, those I love and don't fear losing.
Then, watching them change becomes beautiful.
It's those I am not sure about, is that what I mean?
It's a struggle for me to see those closest to me as changing.
I know them, don't I ? Maybe I don't. Maybe I could give them a chance to change, and then maybe I could too.
Saw an old friend, made lots of judgements about who she is and who she thought I was.
I didn't give her a chance to change.
And I didn't feel she gave me a chance.
She told me I was hard on myself. I cried.
Is that what all this is, that I'm hard on myself, unrelenting, always wanting to be better ? Better than what?
She told me I'm not judgemental, she's doesn't know me, I judged...
I am such a work in progress some days I don't know how I have the courage to get up and live another day in this imperfect body and soul.
I want so much to do the right thing. And yet, so many times it goes past me as I fumble through some awful thing I say or do.
I am getting better though. Little by little I'm watching the moment fly by and sometimes I catch it before it completely disappears and I retrieve the thing I want to do and stop the awful thing I was going to do or say.
Also, why do I let people explain simple things to me, without stopping them.
My friend asked me if I knew that an author's work was just a theory, not fact? I nodded that I understood that.
Did she really think I believed it was written in the sky ?
Then my brother tried to explain EZPAss to me.
He said I was defensive, but did he really think by explaining in that sweet, kind voice that people use when they are talking to someone they think has no clue what is going on, how ezpass worked....
Maybe it was a miscommunication ? I don't know.
Ok friends and brother, I understand that a person writes a book and it is their opinion, and I understand how ezpass works....
Now I sorta get what people say about their kids talking to them as if they don't understand things...
That's all just another thought too. I hold on, I'm not a watcher of clouds in the sky. thoughts coming and going.
No, not yet, they stay right in front of me. I stare at them.
But my question is : Why can't I respond in the moment, tell the person how I feel, what I understand and move on, let the clouds roll by....
Sometimes I can't believe someone is actually explaining some simple concept to me. Is it me ?
New friends, they are eager to find out who you are, they don't know what you'll say or do. there is no history, no backstory, it's all front story to them.
I like that.
Maybe I need more new friends.
And then there's no friends, I tend to stay alone at the house, my house.
I tend to spend a lot of time looking at the trees, sweeping the floor, arranging and rearranging things, ideas, feelings.
I do my best to not imagine the house in the future.
I do my best to enjoy it for what it is now, broken shingles,
no front door, chipped and peeling paint.
I do my best to not say to myself, "if only,"
that's a trap I've fallen into too many times.
I do my best to look around at what has gone right, at what I did that worked, although sometimes I wonder if there's anything.
It's peaceful there without the strain of ambition and goals.
My friend has a lot of plans, "I'm not planning these days," she told me and then she started telling me her future plans.
I guess we all do that.
Even when we're not planning there's some event or happening in the future we're looking forward to.
How can you live in the present moment by moment ?
Upstate, it's easier. There's little distraction.
In Manhattan, there's too many worlds, which one to look at, travel to first. It makes my head spin.
Up there, in that little corner of earth, there's a stream,
trees, sun and wind, ambling creatures in the woods.
Ambition comes in short bursts. I'll sweep the floor, make some tea, sit on the chair and watch the water that moves unceasingly.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Lost and Found
Radio Man
My father was the youngest on the "kiddie cruise."
Two weeks past seventeen.
In the garden he told me,
Flying tiger whiskey, I drank so much, six year sailors called me the flying tiger kid.
They'd hoist me up into bleached coiled net
and deliver my young body
onto the ship's salty air.
Why did I join?
I was lost.
The day my father signed the enlistment papers, he cried.
Do you know what you're doing? He didn't have to say it.
I sailed away.
The night torpedos fell, thousands of stars untangled.
We lived in ration filled life boats
full of death.
The waves a rhythm to our prayers.
How many died ?
Too many
You'll never understand.
My father was the youngest on the "kiddie cruise."
Two weeks past seventeen.
In the garden he told me,
Flying tiger whiskey, I drank so much, six year sailors called me the flying tiger kid.
They'd hoist me up into bleached coiled net
and deliver my young body
onto the ship's salty air.
Why did I join?
I was lost.
The day my father signed the enlistment papers, he cried.
Do you know what you're doing? He didn't have to say it.
I sailed away.
The night torpedos fell, thousands of stars untangled.
We lived in ration filled life boats
full of death.
The waves a rhythm to our prayers.
How many died ?
Too many
You'll never understand.
Bugs no Bigger than this period.
Tiny specks, they crawl, can also sharpen,(or are they rubbing them together, maybe they have an itch?)their tiny little legs and then miraculously fly away ! Who is what is responsible for these creatures ?
I am not alone here, bugs of all kinds, shapes and sizes.
Moths, flies, mosquitos, wasps, bees, butterflies, chipmunks, squirrels, (regular and red tailed)hawks, sparrows, a thousand trees, mostly pine and fir, wild turkeys, tiny orange salamanders, frogs, saw an owl once too, but haven't seen him in awhile. Saw a great blue heron hanging out at the little pond up the street too)
A few moths have stowed away in the car and are now refugees in Manhattan.
I am not alone here, bugs of all kinds, shapes and sizes.
Moths, flies, mosquitos, wasps, bees, butterflies, chipmunks, squirrels, (regular and red tailed)hawks, sparrows, a thousand trees, mostly pine and fir, wild turkeys, tiny orange salamanders, frogs, saw an owl once too, but haven't seen him in awhile. Saw a great blue heron hanging out at the little pond up the street too)
A few moths have stowed away in the car and are now refugees in Manhattan.
House of Holes
Everywhere I look there are holes in my house, outside and inside !
Bruce, mr. pest control, says this is nothing ! "You should see some of the places I go to."
Holes in the stone in the front of the house, holes in every basement window, holes in the eaves up near the peak of the roof, holes in crevices, it seems the more holes I see, the more I see.....
But Bruce is convinced he can plug up all the holes. He's got some strange looking foam that fills in entire windows ! He's made a wire cage like part to go over a piece of the roof, looks awful, but if it keeps out squirrels, chipmunks, mice, and anything else that crawls, walks or gallops, so be it !
And I am beginning the inside hole plugging.
At Lowes I get a patch kit and start applying the patch and then I slather on spackle, it looks more like I'm frosting a cake, but I'll do the best I can.
(And by the way, I 'd rather be frosting a cake !
Two holes done, several more to go.
Bruce, mr. pest control, says this is nothing ! "You should see some of the places I go to."
Holes in the stone in the front of the house, holes in every basement window, holes in the eaves up near the peak of the roof, holes in crevices, it seems the more holes I see, the more I see.....
But Bruce is convinced he can plug up all the holes. He's got some strange looking foam that fills in entire windows ! He's made a wire cage like part to go over a piece of the roof, looks awful, but if it keeps out squirrels, chipmunks, mice, and anything else that crawls, walks or gallops, so be it !
And I am beginning the inside hole plugging.
At Lowes I get a patch kit and start applying the patch and then I slather on spackle, it looks more like I'm frosting a cake, but I'll do the best I can.
(And by the way, I 'd rather be frosting a cake !
Two holes done, several more to go.
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