Thursday, October 30, 2008

Poem For Halloween?



Glinda’s Brood
The house was empty, but the years went by
And children came and wouldn’t go away
No matter how you scolded; at first a few,
And then so many that you couldn’t tell
Which ones were yours and which belonged to neighbors.
You told them they could stay if they’d be quiet
And keep their fingers out of stuff that bubbled;
They meddled, though, made noise, and teased the cat.

They used to follow you when you were busy,
Pull at your sleeves and whine for magic tricks,
Even at their own expense. They never learned
That magic mostly is an attitude;
The bats and mice would play with them by the fire,
But only because they took the time to play
With harmless creatures in a lonely house;
Now, grown and impatient, they still look for magic.

When one of them knocks at the door with a list in his hand
Or a look in his eye that says, I need a chain
Of nine green stones, one broken; an old ring
That opens up to hold a dram of poison;
A brooch of Bonaparte’s hair; some copper coins
Melted and stuck together; a flint axe
That could and might have scalped a pilgrim; or
Five seashells frozen in a limestone base;

You hate to tell him, once you kept such things,
But now in rented lodgings have no room
For household store. But son, you say, take this,
An apple burnished like a dragon’s egg,
A gleaming sphere that holds a treasure. Listen,
Son, this apple has a star in it.
But he is gone and never sees the fire
Between your fingers lighting up the night.

By JRC, April 1995

Birds for Halloween:

















A Swap Package from Dawn, with treasures too numerous to name. Highlights are a wonderful fabric Halloween book, stickers galore (monsters and witches and vampires), a Michael's catalog, a fabric pumpkin pin, and lots of flowers, candles, and creepy creatures.

One of the most notable goodies is this great Trick-Or-Treat Garland:
I'll hang it on the front door Friday evening.


And Finally! - A Halloween Quilt, made by me. I just finished it today.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

These Mediterranean-Blue Skies

(More of my favorite colors!)

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

All Set for Trick-or-Treat

If I can just keep my claws out of the candy jar.



Today I've eaten two bananas and a tomato. So for dinner I'm going to treat myself to a big old Matlock-chokin' hot dog.

Details of wreath (shrunken apple-heads):








Monday, October 27, 2008

Halloween swap


These are the items in the Halloween swap package that I sent to Cindy. I forget the date, but it was before Oct. 15--table runner, jack-o'-lantern votive holder, package of pumpkin candles, black cat card, black crocheted doily, trick-or-treat bucket.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Also Yesterday

My baby sister and I, out of boredom and nervousness, went to the thrift store. Sister found some beautiful items, including a nice green sweater for me. I went more or less wild over the blue-checked plates, the Vietnamese vase and the wacky book in the picture. I found three more books that I wanted to read, although they don't play very big on Amazon Marketplace.

Jed phoned last night; he's in Tampa, Florida, voluntarily working for a political campaign.

Those blue plates recall the feeling of my young days, before I was married. If I had found them in the stores, I would have chosen them for my "everyday" china. They're ironstone, made in Japan, so they were probably in production that long ago. Japan has no doubt found more profitable things to produce these days, although they made some of the most beautiful dinnerware in the world. All that exquisite Noritake china.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Transformed


I had to get up "early" to pack a book and get to the P.O. by 11:30, so the busy morning has got my pulse to beating and my eyes fully opened. Maybe today I'll finish some of the projects I've got going.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

In Defense of the Beautiful American Solecism "Hopefully"

I'm still enough of a curmudgeon about faulty grammar, that I wouldn't use it in formal writing. But "hopefully," used conversationally with the intention of meaning "it is to be hoped that," strikes me just right. It's like hitting a nail on the head with enough force to drive it straight home.

When I wrote that "hopefully," the squirrel recovered, I meant that I had reason to hope that she got well. But what the words really said was that she recovered and was hopeful during the process. Now, what idiot would project human emotions onto an innocent wild creature?

Of course I didn't mean what the words said. That's like saying I placed a candle on either end of the table; can't you see me running from one end of the table to the other, trying to decide which end to set the candle on? And that brings up ending a sentence with a preposition. Damn.

Anyway, as a speaker, I endorse the word "hopefully." As a writer, I eschew it with all diligence. Except when writing dialogue.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Poor Squirrel Nutkin

This is a story about a big squirrel, one of the elder ones in my trees. It happened several weeks ago, and I hesitated to say anything about it, lest people think I was lying in my teeth. I've also been looking around for dead squirrels on the ground or in the street around my place, but haven't seen any since the Happening. So hopefully she/he recovered from whatever it was.

I opened the deck door to let Mo out, and saw furious movement out by the chipmunk stump. Ran and got my binoculars instead of running out there, and it was this big squirrel having some kind of a seizure. She (I swear!) did back flips, and then she would run back to a certain spot and then start whirling around and turning flips in midair. After a few minutes, she managed to get to a tree trunk and ran up the tree.

I carefully marked the spot that she kept running back to between aerobatic flips, and after a while I went out there to see if I could see anything. Was sort of afraid it was a snake or something. But all around under the trees out there, were these awful-looking, spiky, dried-up skeletons of some kind of huge mushrooms. They looked like big clumps of doormats that had lost all their threads and left the fiber sticking up all over. I sort of believe that the squirrel had eaten some of this mess and had the psychedelic contortions because of it.

Now that I've written it down, maybe it'll quit bothering me.












Sunday, October 19, 2008

Something new


















I got a bee in my bonnet, and put an egg in my biscuit dough. Didn't know how they'd turn out--cake, maybe? But they made the most perfect biscuits I've ever made--and larrupin' good, with or without orange marmalade!

Received an email from NaNoWriMo saying, "Don't make us come and get you!" So I went ahead and signed up to participate again. And, I'm going to have to have a yard sale next Saturday to get rid of stuff I've stripped out of the rooms and have nowhere to put. Sounds chillingly like last November, when I got so sick with the epizeutics or some-thing. And fell in the basement and bruised myself all over. I don't plan to do that this year, unless someone beats me up at the polls.

Isn't this clear cool weather wonderful?

Friday, October 17, 2008

Day Of the Slow Soaking Rain

This morning I did laundry, and listed and repriced a bunch of books. I also washed and froze a HUGE sale package of chicken tenders, in eight smaller packages. Now the freezer has steak, pork ribs, chicken, whole wheat burger buns, and an unopened sack of blueberries. So I'm all set for Great Depression II, as long as it doesn't last more than 2-3 weeks.

This afternoon I WILL finish the Hallowe'en thing, and work some more on the painting. That reminds me of a poem, "Walt Whitman's Nose," only I haven't written it yet. Why do old people's noses get so big? Well, of course. It's because of all the lies we've told. Lies turn into cartilage (sp?).

Wednesday was the deadline for mailing the Hallowe'en swap packages. Can't wait to get mine. Hope it has some candy corn in it. The one I mailed didn't have any candy of any kind, so I probably won't get any either.

Tomorrow the LHS Class of 1953 will have its year 55 reunion. I hope she never reads this, but whoever wrote the invitation said that we will also meet Sunday morning for breakfast at the "Crackle Barrel."

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The Eye of the Beholder


Yesterday I met what must be the best-looking car ever made. It was an old Cadillac Eldorado, and it looked brand new. Black and shiny, and the grille was gold instead of chrome. The driver was a middle-aged black man, and he must have seen the startled look on my face, because he grinned a grin so wide it showed every shining tooth in his mouth. Man, that was a gorgeous automobile.

I like cars. I especially like big old cars like that, with sharp lines and angles, and lots of chrome.




Sunday, October 12, 2008

Instant Person: Just Add Coffee


Woke up this morning thinking of lots of good resolutions. The first one was to finish my own personal Halloween project and quit admiring it in its near-finished state.

But Maw Maw always said that every stitch you sew on Sunday, you'll have to pull out with your nose on Monday.

Another good resolution I thought of was to quit procrastinating about
1. painting Old Walt
2. fixing up the house before things start falling apart
3. filing for my tax refund
4. throwing a yard sale before cold weather sets in.
5. quitting procrastinating...

*
Added at 5:45 p.m. My cosmos that I planted at the foot of the steps is full of blooms and buds, but something broke it down last night. Whatever it was left two pecans on the step, so I guess that's payment enough.




Thursday, October 9, 2008

On the Postprandial Nap

It's easy to overdo it. For dinner I fixed the honey bourbon beef brisket from the Atlanta store; it was already cooked and sliced, all I had to do was thaw and heat the beef and the sauce. Mo and I ate until we were groggy, then went to sleep on the sofa and just now woke up.

A nap after dinner really is a good idea, because when you wake up, all you want to do is go back to sleep, which I aim to do in a few minutes.

Tomorrow is book club meeting at the library. I spent part of today reading a 20-page excerpt from The Story of Edgar Sawtelle that I found on the internet. I may have to buy a copy of that book, because I want to read the whole thing again. The excerpt was from the early part of the book, and in it, Gar (Edgar's father) stepped out of his truck into the sunlight and seemed to Trudy to shimmer in the light--as his ghost much later shimmers to Edgar in the rain.

The book I'm reading right now is Imperium by Robert Harris, a fictional biography of Cicero by his slave/companion Tiro.

In a way, reading such excellent books discourages me from writing, because I know I can't measure up to top-notch literature. Edgar Sawtelle was Wroblewski's first novel. He was writing what he knew (dogs) on a preset plot (the plot of Hamlet). So why can't we all do that? Maybe because we all don't know anything as well as the best writers know their subjects.

At any rate, I'm going to try again--that is, write another November novel this year. Just three weeks away.

When I woke up this evening, I had a book sale--the first in exactly three weeks. Made five bucks!

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

End of sewing in sight?

Yesterday I mailed the Halloween package to my swap partner. I don't know why I've been putting an apostrophe in Halloween. Anyway, I've got one more project to finish, and then we'll see if I close up the sewing machine or start on something else.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Poem for Sunday


Over my shoulder

Fire in the veins I had, a glow
of youth and poetry, and yearning
for adventure; far to go
I had, on dancing feet that knew no roots,
but I had seven-league boots,
I thought, to make the journey.

In glittering caverns, fingertip-
deep in rhyme,
I walked north, south
and upside down
where verses dripped,
honeyed verb and noun,
into my mouth
like water and lime.

Talents glinting like new gold
here, there and anywhere
I flung, largesse
strewn with a careless air
as if the mine were bottomless,
when I was young and bold.

Art in the hands I had,
lacked only time, that fled
and vanished faster
than hands could write of pain or laughter.
Then, gold and fire and water meeting
years back there or hours ago,
I learned what any fool should know--
that art as well as time was fleeting.
By JRC, 197_

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Creative juices flowing

I was watching Titanic for the umpteenth time, and they took it off TV in the middle of the film, to show the Cubs-Dodgers game. I like baseball, but not when I'm too tired to do anything but watch Titanic. Have been sewing all day. Seems like once I've got started, I keep thinking of things I want to make, and things I started years ago that I want to finish.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Seventeen-minute break

. . .between sewing the last row on the project, and watching the "debate," or as much of it as I can squirm my way through.

Betty White just phoned and said she needed to borrow Susan's Story of Edgar Sawtelle. She's going to pick it up tomorrow morning.

After I mail my "secret pumpkin" project, I'm going to make myself some cotton granny gowns to wear around the house on days like this, when I hit the floor working on something and find myself, at 4:00 in the afternoon, still in my night garb. Winter pajamas are too hot, and they worry me around my neck. Summer pajamas and gowns are too short and, for some reason, always have buttons missing, and the ones I have are too skimpy for my voluptuous figger anyway.