Frightful Temps

The weather is heating up outside at 27 degrees. Inside, Jack is sick with a fever that spiked to 104.3 last night. Tried not to panic as I made him swallow Advil and apply cold compresses to his neck and forhead. He had been telling me he didn't feel good and I thought he just had a cold. Call to Dr. last night revealed the boy probably has a sinus infection. Today we go to an emergency medicenter for antibiotics. Just checked his fever and it is 101 this morning. Last time he had a fever of over 104 he was an infant with whooping cough. He was small enough to sit in the sink while I splashed him with tepid water. Now he is just about my height and the heart stopping panic of a thermometer reading of 104 plus remains the same.

In other heat related news, yesterday I sloshed boiling water onto my right hand removing cups of hot water for hot chocolate from the microwave. Second degree burn ensued. Ran my hand under cool water for awhile. Seems temperature extremes were yesterday's theme of the day.

The Land of Counterpane

by Robert Louis Stevenson

When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay,
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.

Fire and Ice


Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Robert Frost

Reassigning Blake

I had a psychic tell me my spirit guide was William Blake. Now, don't get me wrong, I like Blake just fine, but even in the area of spirit guidedom, women writers get short shrift. Blake? What's he to do with me? Akhmatova, Plath, Parker, St. Vincent Millay, Wolf (as in Virginia)--THOSE would be my kind of spirit guides. In fact, I am requesting right now that Akhmatova and Blake change spirt guide assignments. Let Blake go inspire some aspiring, tigerish boy poet. I'd like some of Akhmatova's wisdom and fortitude (with a touch of St. Petersburg Cafe Society Glam and Stalin Era sadness and Stoicism) in my soul.

Instead of a Preface


In the terrible years of the Yezhov terror, I spent seventeen months in the prison lines of Leningrad.

Once, someone “recognized” me. Then a woman with bluish lips standing behind me, who l of course, had never heard me called by name before, woke up from the stupor to which everyone had succumbed and whispered in my ear (everyone spoke in whispers there):

“Can you describe this?”

And I answered, “Yes, I can.”

Then something that looked like a smile passed over what had once been her face.



April 1, 1957

Leningrad

Dharma Puzzle

My son has taken a liking to Dharma and Greg. I find this very mysterious. He's an 11 year old boy. Why Dharma and Greg? Kate just screamed, "Mom, he's making us watch Dharma and Greg again!" Maybe he thinks Dharma is cute, or Greg is cute, or he likes the theme music which IS very cheery. Anybody think of another reason? My son has become very mysterious to me period. He catapults between acting like a man and a child. He is fascinated by and knowledgable about the constellations and global warming yet he can't spell or remember to wear his winter hat home. He loves football. That he did not get from anyone in his immediate family. Satan daddy plays Dungeons and Dragons, not football. If I'm ten minutes late home from work he assumes I'm dead. He is now a vegetarian. What happened to my little boy? He was such a sunny little thing. Oh hell, I know why he's not sunny anymore. That doesn't mean I don't miss it.

i carry your heart with me


i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings