This photo hangs on a wall in my house. You may remember it from years gone by. I kept touch with her and her boyfriend, the photographer, who live in Belarus for a long time, but I wouldn't know how to reach them now. Belarus is a most repressive state. Who know what has happened to their lives.
I always liked that photograph and still do.
There are others.
Tonight, I have grilled a beef kabob and some oiled and spiced Brussels sprouts, and I have cooked some jasmine rice. The evening had enough of a breeze that I decided to eat it on the deck with a bottle of blended red wine by Chloe. There are some nice blended reds, I think.
While I cooked, the cats came for dinner. Fed, the neighbor's cat vanished, but the fat feral cat stuck around. She is jumpy when I move or do anything too quickly, but tonight she came close to ask for more. I gave her some of the steak from the kabob. She ate it, then moved into the yard some fifteen feet away to primp and clean and give me the same look I've seen on satiated lovers.
As I ate, a young couple from NYC walked by with their baby stroller. They are the nicest kids in the world. They always pause for conversation. His parents live around the corner, though I don't know who they are, and the couple has rented a house just up the street in the opposite direction. They are a handsome pair to be envied, and I don't know why they take an interest in me except that he remembers me from the gym when he was in high school here. They moved back from Manhattan when the coronavirus hit. They said tonight that they want to invite me over when it is safe. I said the baby will be walking by then. Yes, they said, that could be. We chatted a bit longer. They said I looked like I was enjoying myself. I said "as much as can be expected." They lingered longer than necessary. I've fairly fallen in love with the idea of them. Such things.
Now it is time for scotch. Q wrote me something that I will steal and paraphrase for my own. Scotch is like a lover--the sickness and the cure.
L. sent me a book, "Barbarian Days," by a war journalist about his surfing days. I started reading it before I cooked. It is one of the reasons I ate outside tonight. He writes in an essayist's style rather than a poetic one, but the story is good, and it moved me to eat outside. . . in nature.
* * * * *
Q FaceTimed me last night at the end of the last sentence. I never got back to writing. Q called to serenade me with his guitar again, I guess, and to criticize my blog on its recent posts. C- for some, he said, and Fs. Mostly Fs.
"Well," I said, "that's bad news. I thought some of them were lovely."
He poured another whiskey.
As I've often quoted, Frost said that "everything must go to market." It is the place where value is assessed. It is useless to argue with the market.
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O.K. Selavy.
I'm coming in early today. I have a busy Sunday ahead. I'm on the deck. It's about 175 million degrees or maybe it's the humidity. I'm watching the hummingbirds and the oriole who has returned since I put out the hummingbird feeders. And the honeybees from two doors down. And drinking my hot coffee. I'm not up for the crossword this morning. So it seems. I walked the garden and found a DISASTER
ReplyDeletea bunny gnawed the top of one of my best MaryJane plants. I hope the little Peter got whacked and couldn't find his way home to under the front shed - he needs a lesson.
I'm moving them to the deck. The plants not the bunnies - they are wild.
Are you and Q like the "Holy Cow?" I haven't watched it yet being busy with drinking and all. But I finally read about it.
Today is Mick's birthday. He's 77. I'd do him. But I always really loved Keith, honestly. I listened to "Happy" in the car yesterday about 20 zillion times. His voice is so weak. But he's Keith. I haven't changed my CD's for a long time. I think I should change some up today.
I'm listening to "Blood on the Tracks" this morning. I remember writing once - a long time ago about "Meet me in the Morning." There's a part where Bob's harmonica splashes in - it's still good.
I think that song could be a theme song for me tho "Happy." And so I've decided I might get a kitten to pour out some of the excess I've got right now (always, really). Tho my dogs - well one in particular will be extremely upset. But I'll teach him there is plenty of love to go around. He's jealous tho. Course - I've told the story - he was only 6 weeks old when I got him. I actually used to get on my hands and knees with a toy in my mouth and play with him - on his level. He's a special spoiled Boy. I still do. I did the same with my kids. Everything. All In. Nothing was ever too much. Nothing ever is too much.
Cathy and I were discussing this the other night.
No regrets. We have been blessed with the ability and temperament to be true shelters from the storm.
So. i need a love to keep me happy. Oh this blog has been so wonderful for self-discovery during these crazy end times. Jesus I'm sweating the lap top is slipping all over my lap. But I'm staying out here.
It isn't that I NEED a love to be happy. I'm pretty down with who I am - and tolerate myself most times okay - I've always been a bit of a loner (prolly cause I'm so weird but the other weirdos have been attractive and attracted to me over the years). - happiest doing what i want to do - and for a billion years i was be the best Mom I could be. Then it was being the best partner in crime for T.
It is just what I'm good at. It's my profession. I never dreamed about being anything - professionally. I mean sure "I would like to be a teacher" "I would like to be a writer" - but my life drive did not/does not generate its juice from those places.
I was always a disappointment to my parents & teachers when I was an older student - I think. Cause I didn't "accomplish" anything. And I was definitely always the most interested student in class - (except for Math of course - tho I am thinking I need to spend some time with string theory, math and its influence in Truth & Beauty).
But my little RN came home the other morning and while we were eating our eggs she said "I forgot to tell you Mom - I rescued a turtle on the road yesterday."
And I felt so good. I did a good job.
Where was I?
I've just made some Chai and decided two hits wasn't enough for a Sunday. Whatever right?
ReplyDeleteOh. Kitten. So because HannahNickerson is allergic to cats - I couldn't bring her home - the cat I brought home. One of the Boys on the Lane took her in. She's stunning - half siamese and half Wild Thing. Bright blue eyes. He texted me the litter has arrived. We'll see. My allergic youngest is fledging soon.
Now Chai.
Q is grading your papers? Fuck I think he's a Scorpio you know. c.c. is one too. Fiery.
"Lacking the inhibitions of a nervous system, the camera holds the threat of mindless accumulation of data, without limit and with out purpose, like the accumulation of profit in the economic system in which photography originated."
From Essay "Portraits - A Meditation on Likeness" by Harold Rosenberg, from "Portraits" Richard Avedon.
McGregor
Rumor has it -
neighbor went & got some cats
McGregor is certain about the storm -
He's certain about the rabbits
wreaking havoc
in the new beds unless
the fences get secured
McGregor doesn't want company
doesn't want to socialize while
there's work left to be done
or at all if you press him some.
writ 3 years ago.
I got T. really into gardening. He was a hill billy (good lord you should have seen the inside of his house) - and during the last 3 years of our lives together we made gardens all around the house - I would bring the plants over - we would dig the beds - do the hardscape and while I was working he would toil in the garden all day. He got the tannest he ever was.
And he loved it. But I would always bother him about proper gardening techniques - like watering the new plants. He always said "It's gonna rain." Which it never did.
We'd sit on the front porch late at night - the wild skunk winding between our legs and under the chairs to get the cat food we left for her - and talk about the roses or the lavender. The veggies. He was crazed by the bunnies eating everything. I started calling him "McGregor."
The "cats" the neighbor got were hookers. And his not wanting company was because he didn't want to share our time with the neighbors. Oh we got to meet one or two of the Ladies of the Evening of course. He wrote about it too.
But when push came to shove - he really just wanted it to be Us.
Okies. I'm moving in to my new little rental space to sell vintage & antique wares today. So I'm off to dig through the cellar and make pretty price tags with pretty lettering and ribbon.
Packaging you know. People are attracted to it.
Be U.
Oh. Sorry it's all about "ME" this morning. :D. We'll get back to you soon. Perhaps if you write something worthy of an "A"
ReplyDeleteAnd enjoy the book. x
Cats, lovers, the Stones and Dylan. Skunks and rabbits and gardens full of weed and weeds. C.C. and Q are Scorpions, eh? Well, they sting, but they aren't usually lethal.
ReplyDelete