Farewell My Lady

Lady is gone now and all the detritus I bagged and dragged out to back is now on its way to the dump. Almost done and feel very sad. Dropping poor lady was horrific. Kids have been at Am's today while I finish packing up. Tired tired tired but have to finish this. Will be offline after tomorrow and without phone until July 3 when evil Cablevision will come and wire me for service. They suck. Have I mentioned that already? Am's husband painted my livingroom with the wrong paint so it is white instead of Bermuda blue. Sigh. Jr. will be coming over to help me repaint it. And paint cherries in my kitchen. To match my plates. My story on Beauty Supplements is actually going well. Why did I capitalize beauty supplements? I am brainwashed from my Beauty Fashion days. I am writing like a "special" girl so I am ending here. Bye!

The Power of the Dog

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years that nature permits
Are closing in asthma or tumors or fits
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers, or loaded guns.
Then you will find--its your own affair
But--you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will
When the whimper of welcome is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You still discover how much you care
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em the more do we grieve;
For when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short time loan is as bad as a long--
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

Rudyard Kipling

(For Lady, who, while not dead, is still gone)

Climb Every Mountain

Life has been a whir of cleaning, packing and paring down our lives. Bag upon bag of stuff outside waiting for George the Handyman to take it away to the dump. Freeing and strange to get rid of so many things. Including Lady who frankly has been driving me so insane that I want to drive her to the pound and throw her over the fence. Every time I open the back door (which is constantly due to above-mentioned stuff removal), she tries to escape and often succeeds. Yesterday she made it all the way up to the main drag several blocks up and over where I cornered her behind the pizza parlor. Strange looks from pizza counter guy who was having a cigarette in back door of store. Perhaps because I was dressed in what amounted to pajamas and Jack's sneakers. No new home for dog yet and looks like she may end up at shelter in Brooklyn called Barc that my sister knows about. Jack goes to camp next week and haven't even looked at his supply list yet. Had prolonged argument with Cablevision yesterday who refused to accept that I only want online and phone, no TV (new place has satellite). Guy finally said, oh my computer won't let me transfer only two of three, just tell the guy you don't want the T.V. when he gets there. I hate Cablevision. Well Kate is stomping around shouting "Hungry, hungry, hungry!" So I have to go. I hate my children as well. Going to Oregon in August, and I CAN NOT WAIT! Oh and Jr., when I see you I am going to pull your hair for calling me up early and making Jack poke me awake.

Poems (In the Next Galaxy)

When you come back to me
it will be crow time
and flycatcher time,
with rising spirals of gnats
between the apple trees.
Every weed will be quadrupled,
coarse, welcoming
and spine-tipped.
The crows, their black flapping
bodies, their long calling
toward the mountain;
relatives, like mine,
ambivalent, eye-hooded;
hooting and tearing.
And you will take me in
to your fractal meaningless
babble; the quick of my mouth,
the madness of my tongue.

Ruth Stone

Bowl of Cherries

Went to see Joyce's mom Alice yesterday. Amazing transformation. Alice has become a thinker, reflective and a reader. This is not the woman I knew prior to Joyce's death. She and Jack talked and talked about history and God and what happens to the energy that makes up a human being after the body dies. I was floored, not only about Alice changing, but in the knowledge my son had I didn't know he possessed. He was discussing historical figures and events I had never heard of. He was debating and explaining how he thought about things and I thought I was listening to an adult. Of course earlier in the pool he was spitting water at his sister through a foam tube and making her scream so there it is again, he is still a child, just a really smart one.

Lady still does not have a new home. Once again, anybody who wants her or knows someone who wants her, please give me a call or email me. I'll drive her to Texas (hint, hint) even! On happy move news, have delivered the paint to the new apt. and Jr. has agreed to paint a border of cherries in my new kitchen. Alice has agreed to let me take a painting of Joyce's I have wanted since her death. I will put it in the livingroom. My new livingroom will be Bermuda Blue! I have new dishes with cherry borders that make me happy whenever I look at them. I am so happy also that we will be back in our old neighborhood. It is green with woods and trees and every house is unique and just walking around the block makes me feel good. From the first time I saw the neighborhood as a five year old child, I loved it. And we will be surrounded by old friends and neighbors. Sense of community, sense of love, sense of peace. Just get a sensation of being able to breathe again; a sleeping through the night.

Sleeping under the trees on Yoshino mountain
The spring breeze wearing Cherry blossom petals

Saigyo

Spirit in the Sky



The Lamb

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

William Blake

Dung Summer



I hate summer. Summer sucks. I want perpetual October. Today is Sunday and it is hot and sweaty and gross. The kids will be back from Satan's lair anytime now and I wish they weren't. I want 24 hours without them. And air conditioning. Mommy does not want to go to the supermarket today, mommy wants to run away. I would like to open the door and let Lady run away too. I was so sorely tempted when I came in last night and there were retalitory presents for me on the floor (Oh, mother left me alone again, time to defecate!).

Kids back and they are being very sweet and funny. Guess I'll stick around. Went to a psychic party at Lia's on Friday night. Good reading, positive feedback on move, kids have great future (She saw little Missy in Prague and Jack working in Washington D.C.). She saw marriage for me again (oh boy) with a guy named Paul who is a very good match for me. She said lots of other stuff I will not bore you with. Last night I dreamt Brendan Fraser was my boyfriend. Maybe she meant Brendan instead of Paul.

Must go and wash floors with a bleach solution. And have more coffee. My poem today is called "Song of Jr."

Song of Jr.

When I hear a noise outside my door
It's hard to check
Since I'm so close to the floor.
I need a ladder to see what's what
I'm almost as short as LuLu the mutt!
But don't feel sorry, don't feel bad
I may be a midget, but I'm still really rad!