Monday Random: dog days

  • It got mighty hot in the midwest of the states, and, for me, that means near Chicago
  • Oh, I am sure it was as hot in other places before and after our heat spell broke, but I guess it was smart of them, whoever ‘them’ is, to alert the public so they keep hydrated and check on loved ones who live alone in highrises
  • Does anyone remember this tragedy in 1995?
  • Still, I don’t want to be that guy, you know the one
  • The complainer.
  • Hot enough for you? Haha

Continue reading “Monday Random: dog days”

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do not ask me
to turn down the music
or dim the sun
and its heat

your cold

breath is
turning to fog
before me

Monday Random: spring cleaning

  • Though starting rather late, our cleaning for spring is advancing well
  • In my defense, it is difficult to forget that the season is not still winter
snowy cropped
the weather, Palm Sunday 2019
  •  We drove to church in driving snow, the visibility poor, but we got there safely
  • This morning the sun is so bright, I cannot see, even just looking out the window. Inspiring!
  • There were a few scuffles in the parceling out of cleaning tasks, but all was peaceful by day’s end
  • Today is a grocery and baking day, hopefully with a nice corner to read in later, when I have earned it

Happy Monday! It has come again. I bid you a great one, or at least a peaceful one–oh, and did I mention I love the blues? (the music, not depression) I love them like I love a good haiku–sadness and hope in one tasty morsel. Time for coffee and breakfast!

 

 

 

sudden cold snap
an unexpected breeze
like when he left
only to turn around
to touch my face again
Monday
you have been called
blue
but I wave my wand
and call you gold
leaving the blues
in the can behind me

stay

it is seven a.m. and the house is gray
the rooms are gray and the ceiling
is gray, and when I look outside
the sky is gray

it does not look bright
or gay–today
in my head
it is dark like my coffee
but I am tranquil

Monday random

DSC00130

 

  • Could I edit my feature photo to be a little smaller?
  • Sure I could
  • But I woke up to brilliant sunshine and a temp here of -2°F
  • I am planting a little mental spring garden to give me the will to go out the door this morning
  • today, on March 4
  • mmhmm
  • positivity is key
  • So this was intended to be a handful of random thoughts
  • instead I am harping on winter
  • winter that wants to stay
  • here’s a thought, and a tip for the day
  • Bakers? Don’t forget that even a sweet treat needs a pinch of salt in it to bring out the sweetness. Not much, just a half teaspoon, perhaps a quarter, or only a pinch. It’s chemistry. It works. Please trust me on this!
  • In other news, I am continuing sewing memory pillows for a friend. The first two were fashioned from sweaters, as will the next after this project today
  • which is two pillows made from a first communion dress from the sixties
  • It has been very rewarding, but gives me sweats taking the clothing apart, these dear memorials people held on to for so long
  • I just don’t want to screw it up.
  • But so far, so good
  • After that, writing, both a side project, and my own
  • And, if I get a couple of hours left at the end of the day in which I do not pass out early, I will watch an old movie I have been saving to watch with hubby
  • In the meantime–Onward, ho!
  • Think spring.

 

We two

How come every time I kiss your neck
you smell like the wind?
how come every time I kiss your neck
you smell like the wind–
the outdoors as if you were born there and come home
each time you open the doors, kissed by sun and shower
every time you walk barefoot up the walk

Your hair hanging over my face
makes me think of corn silk
and I want to kiss your ear, every time
smelling the earth in your hair, and
the world I have not traveled much of yet
has left a map across your cheeks
and over your nose, which I know
will wrinkle as you read these words

Don’t be unkind–like lightning–when
I don’t translate it well; don’t ask too many questions, please
I already don’t feel your heart–
it stopped when you read the fourth line, when
you felt my lips on your neck and an earthquake rumbled under us
when I bit your flesh there, when I bit you
as sure as you are sulking

How come we speak two languages when we connect in space? Why
do I break orbit when I try to plug you into my psyche, tell me
why is it impossible to fully be one on this sphere–
us here, we there–the wind and rain in your skin and your hair, tell me
why can we not be one like weather and ocean
and the stars and the air

How come–