The better to see you with.

On the last day of 2016, I've decided to pick up my blog again. The Christmas and birthday holidays have been wonderful, with Jed, the sisters and nieces and nephews. Susan invited us to her house for Christmas Eve soup supper, and Jed treated us to birthday luncheon at Carrabba's. Dave and his daughter have been very good, checking on me and helping me out since I've been without a car.


A week or so ago, I had an eye exam and got a prescription for new glasses. They dilated my eyes. Up until then, I was seeing okay, but over the past few days my vision has got so blurry, it's very hard to read. And I have a stack of good books that "won't read themselves," as they say. I went to Walmart--they have a better selection of frames, and better prices on glasses than I expected. My glasses should be ready sometime this week. The doctor at UAB Eye Hospital said I've got cataracts and should have the surgery sometime in the future, so I've got that to look forward to.


I hope all my friends and loved ones have a very Happy New Year.

Pterodactyl time

I think I'm having one long anxiety or panic attack. I have no pain or nausea, can't identify anything specific, but feel like I'm dying. Like the worst has happened, but things can always get super-worse. I've had this before, but it never before lasted for such a long time.

The Greatest 1935-2007

Is it possible that Pavarotti has been dead for nine years?

He once said that his father was 70 years old and still had a beautiful singing voice. Luciano hoped that he himself would be granted such a blessing, and he was. His voice deepened and colored into the finest and most moving tenor voice I have ever heard. I rank him, Maria Callas and Elvis Presley as the three outstanding voices of the twentieth century.

I miss him. I haven't yet played all the recordings I have of him--half a drawer full. The other half, and another whole drawer, are full of Elvis recordings.

Another Crock-Pot Fiasco

Another pot to soak and scrape. I bet people who post these "simple easy" crock-pot recipes on Facebook get a good laugh when people complain about the results. I tried the cake-in-a-crock-pot recipe and wound up with a disgusting mush instead of a pretty brown-on-the-top confection. At least it made the house smell good for a while.
*
And why isn't PBS showing Poldark tonight? Should I blame Obama, or that other guy?

Pat and I went to the poetry meeting yesterday evening, and it started storming just as we started home. She was driving, and since she is one of the two best drivers I've ever known, we made it home through the sturm and drang. I slept this morning and this afternoon until nearly one o'clock, and when I looked outside, I saw that the storm had split one of the oak trees.

I'm making a quilt, or throw or pillow sham or something, out of my old raggedy jeans. Glad I saved them, and now I'm rid of them. Just have to sew the rows together and decide what I'm going to do with it.

I'm not going to fringe all the seams and then wash and dry it in my some-20-year-old washer and dryer, and try to deal with all the bits of thread left in them. But something will occur.

I voted.

So did it seemed like a couple thousand other people. I've never seen such crowds at a voting place. Scarcely dare we hope Democrats.

Made by MER?

I found this little quilt top in the basement, and just washed it. This photo looks blue and yellow and sort of orange, but it's really pretty pink, blue and white, all hand-stitched. It's hanging across the shower rod to dry. The size is about 40x70 inches.  The blocks are 10" square; I couldn't get far enough away to photograph the whole thing. I think it would make a lovely baby quilt, taking off the bottom 2 rows of blocks. I don't remember ever seeing it before.

I've got at least half a dozen tops that need to be quilted. I could have some of them machine quilted, but hand-quilting would be better for this one and Mama's basket quilt.

November at Last

Yesterday for dinner I had turnip greens, green beans, ripe tomatoes, and the best cornbread I've ever had. The bread was from a Mexican mix, with jalapenos and I don't know what-all. And then came bunches and bunches of trick-or-treat visitors--they got about fifteen dollars worth of candy. I had to raid my kitchen candy bin to eke out the treats. I always give individually-wrapped stuff, Hershey minis, etc. Wish I had thought to photograph some of the little gremlins, cutest things ever!

I guess November is my second-favorite month of the year. Just hope the weather cools down some and rains some. This week and next, I'll have people around fixing the roof and the outside gas gadgets, cleaning up the leaf-covered yard, and other things. Have already had the furnace inspected and the gas turned off from the wrecked grill and burnt-out yard lamp.

I read on the news that one of my favorite actors, Val Kilmer, is battling cancer. He's having fun with his art work, though. He starred in some of my favorite movies: The Ghost and the Darkness, Thunderheart, The Saint, and one with Kim Basinger that I don't remember the title. Also the best movie I've seen about Billy the Kid. Great actor.

Two Meetings

Ramey, Jed and I went to Calera yesterday to the ASPS meeting. This photo is by Jerri H. It seemed to me that I smiled and grinned until my jaws were sore, but she managed to catch me looking--the way my mug looks in this picture--natural, I guess.

The "crowd" at the meeting was very small. When we arrived, a message came about the caterer; on the way to Calera he had been stopped by police, and all the food was unloaded and investigated. But eventually he arrived, and we had lunch. Then the prizes/awards were given out, and Ramey and I each won a couple of second and third prizes.

On Thursday, I went to the Leeds Arts Council where our poetry group entertained Jim and Liz Reed's Birmingham Arts Journal staff. This time there was a huge crowd, and I enjoyed meeting old acquaintances and new.

Something a bit funny happened when I got to the Arts Council--Joan D. hugged me, and one of her earrings got tangled in my hair. We spent about five minutes getting untangled, with everyone laughing at us.

Jed went back to Atlanta today, and I'm resting up for whatever this week has in store.

The Ghosts of Halloween

I want to make some more, maybe several in my old shrubbery, if I "have the time."

It's nearly noon, when I have to shift into high gear and get ready for tonight's event.

Cherchez les Duds du Clown

I've turned my house upside-down hunting Valentine Ballantyne's Halloween costume. This is it, from last year. Or some year before last.

Right now he and Jerry are dressed for Christmas. Those are the only two outfits he owns, except for his skivvies. No--that's wrong. His original costume was a red jumpsuit printed with white hearts, and a matching beret. I can't find it, either.

*

I had to go to Walmart yesterday to pick up a prescription. Then today I had to go to Publix to find all my stuff for the Arts Council meeting tomorrow night. And after turning the house topsy-turvy, I'm purt-near wore out, as Maw Maw would say.

What a Week Ahead of Me!

I just received an ASPS email that said I have at least one good reason to attend the Fall meeting this-coming weekend. That usually means at least one of my poems won, at least an honorable mention. I've registered for Jed and me to attend the ASPS awards luncheon on Saturday, Oct. 29.

On Friday evening, the 28th, the Leeds poetry group is entertaining Jim Reed's publishing staff at the Arts Council, and I've volunteered to help with refreshments. So that means I can get home from the Arts Council and just stay up all night and go to the ASPS meeting without having to change clothes. Just joking, but it's possible.

Jed is coming over for the awards luncheon, but I don't know which day he plans to come. Probably Friday, and he can give me moral support for the weekend.

An added incentive: Last week I ordered a new dress from Coldwater Creek. I hope it arrives soon, and the post-person doesn't try to stuff it into my mailbox or leave it on my front porch.

*

I was mistaken about the Birmingham Arts Journal meeting at the Arts Council. It's Thursday, Oct. 27, instead of Friday. So that makes it better for me timewise.

Another "Lost" Dream

One thing recurrent about this dream was that the same guy, who has appeared in other "lost" dreams, tried to help me in this one. The difference was that this time I recognized him. He was a student named Gerald who used to work for one of the law firms. I don't remember his last name.

Anyway, I had worked all night at UAB, and when I got in my car I took a wrong turn and couldn't find the right street to get out of town. I couldn't even get out of the Southside. Some of the streets were unpaved, with loose rocks and concrete scattered around. At a couple of points I got out of the car and asked for directions. One of these was a small shop run by a young woman with a couple of children playing in the floor. And then I couldn't find my car.

After I walked a few blocks, I met Gerald at the exit from some building. He said he had to get his car and would pick me up. I waited, and saw his car pull up and park across the street. When I got over there, I found his car but he wasn't in it.
*
It's funny, when you try to remember a dream. Much of it is fuzzy, and you try to avoid making up connections to the disconnected parts.

Kingdom of the Hwicce, 577-780s AD

Hwicce

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

For Debbie, or anyone else interested in England. See the Wikipedia article. Refers back to Bath, England, where we visited in 1997.


***

Hoping we can see "Poldark" tonight instead of some political blather.

Delta, a 7-year-old Border Collie

I'm in love again! 

Good Intentions--Foiled Again

I meant to go to the library today to hunt these two books. I've had a hankering to read Bleak House again, and Ninth Ward is our book for Book Club which meets this Thursday.


But the Heating and Air man came to inspect the furnace, and this afternoon I had--or have--three painful problems, so I didn't venture out.


So I may order a copy of Bleak House from Amazon, and will ask Pat to lend me her copy of N.W. to read.


I found a site online, and printed out four pages that list all the characters in Bleak House, and tell who each one is in the story. About the only things I remember from reading the book are Mr. Jarndyce calling his study The Growlery, and a case of spontaneous combustion of a human male.

A Tree Grows in Israel

Sep 7, 2016 2:11pm Transaction ID 1rq15yk8 Receipt for Trees Order [#14047] - 1rq15yk8 Shalom Joanne R., Thank you for planting 1 Fruit Tree: $45 in Israel. Your trees will be dedicated: In Memory of All of Israel's Victims of Terror Sara Joanne Ramey Cage Your full mailing address as entered is: Joanne R. Cage 7122 Rowan Road. Leeds, Alabama 35094-2477 United States You selected that the certificate be mailed to: My Address United with Israel thanks you very much for participating in our "Plant Fruit Trees" project. Soon your trees will blossom into magnificent expressions of bounty and beauty. You have made a wonderful contribution to the Land of Israel! May you be blessed and rewarded for your kindness and for your love of the Land. You are truly a partner in building the Land of Israel. With Blessings from Israel, The United with Israel Family __________________________________________________________________ Please keep this receipt from Zo Artzeinu for your tax records. Zo Artzeinu is a registered 501 (c) 3 non-profit organization. All donations are tax deductible in the USA. (Federal ID # 11-3321933) NO GOODS OR SERVICES WERE PROVIDED IN RETURN FOR THIS DONATION Billing Address Joanne R. Cage 7122 Rowan Road Leeds,Alabama 35094-2477 US Description Price Total $45.00 How many trees would you like to sponsor? 1 Fruit Tree: $45 $45.00 Credit Card : ****1005 Amount Paid : $45.00 Blessings from the Land of Israel

Fall Contests

This week I've sent half a dozen poems to the ASPS Fall contests, and a couple to the Aesthetica Magazine contest. So maybe I'll get a prize or two.

The ASPS fall meeting will be held in Calera, Alabama. I think we've met there before. Anyway, I hope to feel like going to the luncheon/award meeting.
***
I also entered a contest sponsored by Negative Capability Press.

Have Rocket, Will Travel

Last night I watched a Stooges movie. It was good until they returned to earth from Venus, even though Uni the unicorn came with them. Back on earth it became boring again. At least I learned the Stooges' names: Moe Howard, Larry Fine, and Curly Joe DeRita who was the last in a long list of replacements for the original Schemp Howard as the third Stooge. Overall, a good show.

Now I can cook--If I can lift the thing!

I finally got around to cleaning and seasoning my old iron skillet. Did a pretty good job, but I'll probably bake it some more before using it, because it's still kinda sticky.

Feeling good today, and it's a good thing, because there's a lot to be done around the house. Hope everybody has a good sunshiny day!

Page 295*

Mr. Norrell has given Mr. Strange a book! It's only the biography of a Mr. Tott, an obscure non-practicing magician who never wrote his own book on the subject. Probably no mention of the Raven King.

*Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke - I've been reading a few pages of this book, at random times, for two or three years now. Approximately 700 pages to go.
***
This afternoon I bought groceries, and when I got home, I sat in my car thinking, "I don't think I can get myself up those stairs, let alone a bunch of grocery bags."

Then I said, "Come on, you did ten push-ups yesterday." Of course, they were knee-pushups instead of toe-pushups, but the thought gave me the push I needed to get me and most of the groceries up the stairs.

Great Sunday

Yesterday I went to the Presbyterian church with my sweet sisters, and there were Joan and Frank, Ellen, Doris, Spurgeon, several other people I knew, and a whole bunch of friendly strangers. They were having a farewell party for their young pastor, his wife and two adorable babies. There was so much food, I couldn't even sample all of it.

Now I've got the phone on speaker, waiting for UAB to answer, to clarify my prep instructions for the test tomorrow. I keep telling myself it will be over tomorrow afternoon, so I can wait a day or so to think about committing Harry Carey.

***

George Romney is one of my favorite portrait painters, and "Miss Juliana Willoughby" is my favorite of his paintings. (This is listed in the National Gallery free images.)

Progress

Not quite 9 a.m., and I've already accomplished several things. I've decided to turn the story I've been working on into a novel, and spent some time this morning doing some research. Have one notebook for research, and will probably fill up that and another one with notes and stuff I've already done for the story. I've thought about calling it "Grendel's Children," but that's a joke. So I'm going to try to spend my time working on this. I think I've done enough reading my poems to a group, and reading stuff chosen by someone else and trying to find something polite to say about it. I'm not talking about the books Jed and I both read and share, but about the book club.

I've found some good friends through the book club, but as far as the group goes, they don't read the kind of writing that I read.


Yesterday after the meeting, Joan took me into the nave of the Presbyterian church. It is small, but very beautiful. She showed Nell and me their organ, and played a hymn that almost sent me into a trance. She also told us some of the history of the church. I value Joan and Frank, and somehow, especially, Carole, although she hardly ever says anything. Maybe that's one of the things I like about her. I think I gave her the Indian Hatchet quilt that I made ten years or so ago. I miss Jean M., Mable, and Betty W.

Although Betty called Muslims "Muslins," she at least chose and read good books, especially Shantaram. Mable and Jean also read a lot. Jean read classics and knew a whole lot of good stuff.

Anyway, I intend to "endeavor to persevere" with this novel business until I have something complete. Remaining time allowing.

Activities

Yesterday I watched "Dances with Wolves." As with a few other films, while I'm watching it, I think "this is the best movie I've ever seen in my life." And Kevin Costner is the "handsomest movie star ever."

Today I'm reading Miss Jane for the book club meeting tomorrow. Troublesome book, hard to read, but worthwhile.

Get Along, Little Doggies

On National Dog Day, I received a response to my adoption application. It said that the two dogs I was interested in were no longer available, so I've been sulking. I looked on the website again, and both dogs were still listed, with the note that nobody was yet interested in them. I guess I'm Nobody; so at least they acknowledged me with a note. To quote one of my favorite authors, "It just goes to show you."

I have to go to TKC next week for another humiliating test. They finally found one I haven't had before. I'm sure that took some effort.

We have book club meeting Thursday (Sept. 8) at the beautiful Presbyterian church. Pat's going to bring me the book today.

Going To the Dogs

This morning I spent 15 minutes walking around the yard and under the trees, before my back started complaining. I'll try to increase the exercise time every day, in preparation for walking my dog, if I ever succeed in getting her from the Pet Finder agency.

I sent in the adoption application a week ago today, but haven't heard anything from it. J.J. is an 8-year-old beagle/corgi mix, being fostered somewhere in Bibb County, best I could gather from the Pet Finder. I was looking for a larger dog but just couldn't resist these photos of her.


I almost fell for the dog shown below, but a one-year-old dog with his tongue hanging out is bound to be hyperactive and sort of wild. They're calling him "Uncle John." If he were mine, I would call him "Spats."

Too Much Is Enough?

I've read a little more than half of A Prayer for Owen Meany. The spectre of 300 more pages is daunting to me. Maybe I'll save it for another burst of reading energy. Owen was captivating as a child, but the older he gets, the more predictable.

Something has messed up my "Pictures" album. I have to go halfway around the world to get to the actual pictures, and then they're just words until I retrieve them. Or something.

I'm just tired. I had such a terrible dream night-before-last that I haven't slept much since about four o'clock yesterday morning. And spending that time reading "Owen Meany" hasn't helped the weirdness much.

On Becoming One's Mother

I used to feel (but not express) a little annoyance at my mother for walking so slowly in her 80's. Hah! I hope she was up there watching yesterday when I went to Walmart for prescriptions that were delayed for medical approval.

I shuffled around, found an uncrowded aisle and stopped, slumped over my shopping cart, and tried to breathe and wipe my hair out of my eyes. I heard someone laughing behind me, turned, and saw a woman about my age slumped against a counter, looking at me and cackling with laughter.

"This must be the rest stop," she said. "Do you think we can make it any farther?"

I laughed too, and said, "Why, I can walk several steps at a time before I have to stop."

After we exchanged a few quips and further laughter, I said, "But really, do you need any help?"

At that, she laughed harder, and said, "What would you do if I said yes?"

"Well, maybe I could call somebody."

She said, "Do you need any help?"

"Naw," I said, "I'm cool," and continued on my snail-paced way.

Rough Weekend

Man, I've had one! From the middle of Friday night until sometime this morning, I was thinking maybe it was time to buy the farm. Severe abdominal pain, bad enough to make me moan and groan while stifling screams. I called the doctor's office yesterday, but both Onae and Dr. G. were off this week on vacation. The covering doctor said go to a treatment clinic over on the Southside for "further evaluation," but I decided to wait one more day.

So this afternoon I found I had enough energy to take a shower and wash my straggly hair.

Yesterday, Pat picked up my prescriptions for me from Walmart, and brought some cottage cheese and canned pears, plus a big bottle of Sprite and a bag of spearmint Lifesavers, which is what I've eaten ever since plus a can of chicken noodle soup. I think the mints did the most to settle my stomach. Seems like I might have had a touch of food poisoning--I blame some chicken legs of which I had made a sort of barbecue mess. I turned nauseated while trying to eat it Friday, and later poured the whole megilla down the disposer, except for the bones.

I just watched a good blood-and-guts movie starring John Travolta. 1999, I think it was made. "The General's Daughter."

Missed the book club meeting this morning, because I wasn't sure the nightmare was over. I still have a little pain, but not enough to make me holler.

Great Movie

I just watched "Legends of the Fall" (1994) again. If I had to name 100 best movies, this would be in the top ten.

Yum!

*

At poetry meeting, my poem was over-praised, as usual. Maybe it's because I'm the antique relic and they feel sorry for me. Or maybe my poems are pretty good, after all. Either way, it makes me feel strange.

Still Here

After sleeping 12 hours without twitching, I spent half the day trying to wake up. Then I decided if I took a shower, maybe I would come alive. So after the shower, I went to the grocery, and now I think I'll go to the poetry meet after all.
Gonna take my Conrad Aiken poem, based on his "Beloved, let us once more praise the rain," one of the finest poems in any language that I know. Which includes English, a dead language.

Jesus, Lover of My Soul

Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide;
Oh, receive my soul at last. . . .


Charles Wesley

Inspiration

This is a page from an old quilt magazine. It's where I got the idea for the little basket quilt. I think I still lived in the Southside apartment when I started my quilt scrapbook. I've made a few quilts based on saved pictures and patterns.

Book Club Tuesday

All seven members of the book club met at Ramey's yesterday. We enjoyed a delicious lunch, and then discussed E.M. Forster's book A Room With a View, and the delightful 1985 movie based on the book.


This morning I put the makings of chicken and dumplings in the crock pot, and will add a little can of LeSeur peas. So for dinner this evening I'll have a good meal, including a fruit salad. I'm counting every calorie, so I'll have leftovers to go into the freezer.

New Quilt, I hope

These blocks are four-and-a-half inches square, plus quarter-inch seam allowances. If I make a miniature quilt, maybe I can finish it this year. But a full-size one will take much longer.


I cut out all the pieces for a full-size quilt, several years ago, and sewed together the light-colored block. Each square in the box holds pieces for 3-4 blocks.

I want a brown-and-white quilt for my bedroom, and I hope this will be the one.

***

Over the past week, I've watched all 6 re-run episodes of "The Night Manager," plus the Saturday night replays of the first 3 episodes of "Poldark."

Stars and Strikes

Jed came down Sunday. We really didn't have any great plans; ate at Cracker Barrel Sunday evening. I celebrated(?) the Fourth of July with a terribly messed up digestive system, so we didn't do much then, either, except watching some movies and old TV series. Jed celebrated by fixing everything around the house from the closet door in the "reading room" to trying to plumb the kitchen faucet. He went back to Atlanta today.

*

One of my favorite hymns sings in my mind:

My Faith Looks Up to Thee

Ray Palmer (1808–1887)

My faith looks up to thee, Thou Lamb of Calvary,   Saviour divine! Now hear me while I pray, Take all my guilt away,         5 O let me from this day   Be wholly thine!   May thy rich grace impart Strength to my fainting heart   My zeal inspire!         10 As thou hast died for me, O may my love to thee Pure, warm, and changeless be,—   A living fire!   While life’s dark maze I tread,         15 And griefs around me spread,   Be thou my guide; Bid darkness turn to day, Wipe sorrow’s tears away, Nor let me ever stray         20   From thee aside.   When ends life’s transient dream, When death’s cold, sullen stream   Shall o’er me roll, Blest Saviour, then, in love,         25 Fear and distrust remove! O bear me safe above,—   A ransomed soul!

Found it in the yard

Birds are talented.

New Crock Pot

My new slow cooker arrived yesterday. What it was: I had put chicken and veggies in the old one and left it for ten hours. I accidentally had set it on high instead of low. During the ten hours I took a nap and fooled around, and all the liquids in the pot boiled away and all the solids stuck to the pot and got very brown. After scraping them out and scrubbing the pot, I found a hairline crack down one side and across the bottom.


Of course, I resorted to Google to tell me what to do next, and the consensus was to plant a flower or something in the pot, and buy a new one. Although you could buy any other part separately, you couldn't buy just the ceramic insert, and the possibilities of using the cracked one ranged all the way from a kitchen explosion, to using it for a few days until the new one arrived. So I ordered a new one, identical to the old. It cost less than $30, with free shipping, so now I can slow-cook again. Carefully.

All my dish towels are so old, most of the embroidery is gone, leaving the holes and shreds where it used to be. So I also ordered a new set of dish towels. When they arrive, I'll be set for another 10 or 15 years of problematic cooking and drying dishes, for less than $40.


***
An Interesting Dream

One night I dreamed there was a black velvet box on the night stand, and in it was a beautiful black spider with a pearl on its back. I thought it was a piece of black enameled jewelry, and I reached out to touch it, but then it spread out its legs and crawled out of the box.

"Why, then, the world's mine oyster!"

TCM went Shakespeare-wild last night on TV. They showed Macbeth, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and the 1935 A Midsummer Night's Dream. I watched a little bit of Macbeth, but don't really enjoy looking at Orson Wells. I watched all of Hamlet.

I take back most of the negative things I ever thought about Laurence Olivier. His Hamlet is one of the best movies I've ever seen in my life. I had never seen this one before. L.O. didn't go into his usual histrionics until late in the film. Shortly into Romeo and Juliet, I went to sleep in my chair, so I got up and went to bed.

Note: The characters Francisco and Horatio, and old Polonius, reminded me of Edward de Vere's two cousins Francis and Horace de Vere, and Lord Burghley of whom Polonius in the play is a word-for-word-for-word copy.

This Time, Mama Means It!

I often say that I'm going to ignore Facebook and spend my time practicing. But this time, I'm really leaving Facebook. My reasons:

10. Not enough pictures of puppies and kittens.

9. Bad grammar, such as people saying "convince" when they mean "persuade."

8. Politics (not enough pictures of honest politicians).

7. Ubiquitous atmosphere of ambiguity.

6. The prevailing assumption that if you're for something, you must hate its opposite.

5. Too frequent mention of words that begin with the capital letters D, T, O, and F. I cringe every time I see one of these.

4. Recipes for delicious fattening foods.

3. Reminders of stupid things that I posted three years ago.

2. Dreaming of my mother waking me up in the morning to do chores that I've ignored too long.

1. My number one objection to Facebook is that it begins with the letter F.

Fish Tales

Occasionally, my friend Miriam and I used to say one to the other one, "Wanna go eat grease?" And we would go to one of my favorite fast-seafood places for lunch. I wish I had some of that good old greasy stuff now. But in recent years, I don't eat much seafood, owing to the oil spills, nuclear meltdown scares, and plastic/garbage pollution. Just when Jed and I go to a nice restaurant, I may order the fish fry or a grilled tilapia, but mostly I don't. I really miss Miriam, and her girls, and Billy Sam.


Speaking of fish, the short story I'm mainly working on is about an adventure at "the" beach. I've got three or four pages done, and re-done over and over, and I like it pretty well. I'm also working on some of my unpublished poems to send to the American Journal of Poetry. They publish a lot of poems by famous poets and by amateurs. I guess I can't call myself an amateur, since I've earned a pittance of money from writing. And I can't call myself a "famous poet." So what am I, chopped liver?

"Pie, me oh my! I love pie!" *

I've been eating pie, 3 Musketeers bars, cheese and crackers, and a dollop of Daisy on anything suitable. So I weigh 120, and in photos I look fat and matronly. I guess I need to lose 10 pounds. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, and I won't deprive myself entirely of what I crave, but only once a week will I eat any sweets other than fresh fruit.


I've made a little bit of progress on the short stories--three of them at once. One is a ghost story, one a romance, and the third a fairy-tale fantasy called "B.Y.O.B.," as in bring your own bottle.


I find that I can't sew the prairie points directly to the edges of the leaf quilt. When I asked if it could sew through 7 layers of fabric and a layer of batting, my machine laughed until it had tears in its eyes, but said nothing at all.


*Dorothy's song, in the "Michael" movie

"All That Will Remain of Us Is What Was Written Down." *

As of this month, my blog is nine years old. I need to concentrate on my writing, and aim to do so from now on.

*Tiro, the secretary of M. Tullius Cicero, in Robert Harris's book Dictator

Major Crying Jag This Morning

It only happens once every year or so, but when it does, the dam breaks and it's hard to see how anyone can be cheerful. I try to joke about things, especially the damn-it-all agitations. But mass shootings, and a few other things, sometimes pile up and have to be dealt with. And what can you do but cry? You can stand up for what you believe.

As for sympathizing with the Muslim terrorists, Jesus said love your neighbor, he didn't say love those who kill your brothers and sisters. He said to love your enemies, not the enemies of God. He told the disciples that if people didn't accept their gospel, to shake the dust off their heels and get out of town. I can't sympathize with the Muslims. By their own "Kuran," they have pledged themselves to destroy human lives. By doing so, they have ruined at least as many lives as they have destroyed.

Muslims don't worship the same God we worship. They worship an invention of a man named Muhammad, and have twisted the Hebrew scripture to suit their own vicious ideas.

I love the whole human race in the abstract, and I cry for the whole world. But I will not try to justify violence and a whole people's commitment to a code of violence. Just because evil has been done in the past, even by "us," doesn't justify what they're doing now.

Another Fine Book by Robert Harris

I've started reading the third volume of Robert Harris's study of Marcus Tullius Cicero. Harris is an excellent writer. It's hard to put the book down, even at the end of a chapter. Cicero was well-loved by the Roman people, and thus a natural target for those who envied his power.

Dang!

Is Mercury retrograde? Is Pluto in my sign? Is it the end of computerese as I know it?


Probably just everyday experience piling up. I've counted at least 16 personal catastrophes that the month of June has made manifest. But I'll describe only one of them.

Cornbread Chicken Pot-Pie

I made it on the first day of June. Man, it had everything--sliced up chicken, many kinds of vegetables, lots of appropriate spices and plenty of salt--golden brown crispy crust from a package of yellow cornmeal mix topped with a whole stick of melted butter.


While it was baking, something kept tugging at my unconscious. It finally came through: I had taken the frozen chicken out of the freezer and put it in the refrigerator to thaw. But when? I couldn't remember when I had put it in the refrigerator. But I was pretty sure that it had been more than a week. I ran to the still functioning computer and studied up on salmonella.


When the pie came out of the oven, I looked at for about half an hour, trying to decide whether I should ignore the delicious aroma, or risk death by eating it. The compromise was to eat a small amount at the edge where there wasn't any chicken. Leaving out a frozen Hershey-bar pie, this was the best dish I had ever invented. I didn't cry, because other problems were demanding my tears and cussing. But I dumped it. A couple of days later I tried again, using fresh chicken, but it is so bad, I don't think the dogs would eat it.

Once more into the breach--

Well, in a little while I'll be off down the yellow brick road again, this time to see the flying monkeys at the ER. Because I've got a crick in my neck, Dr. G. said go get blood work done. So, lemme get in the shower and get ready for take-off. Sister Ramey's going to drive me down there.

***

Weds., June 1 - There's no defense against the Medical Monster. We got home last night at 11:00, after I spent 8 hours in the emergency room, mostly waiting. I feel worse for Ramey than for myself, because she likes to sleep.

Okay, it was a harrowing experience for a 162-year-old crone like me. But what about the young girl with her obviously sick husband asleep on her shoulder, her infant in a carrier, and her toddler making the only sweet light in the place?

What about the old gentleman who could walk although he couldn't stand up straight? No one was waiting with him.

The emaciated young woman who had some kind of a seizure, rolled around screaming on the floor until a big guy came in and picked her up and left?

Crowds of them waiting there all day and into the night, obviously because of the signs on the walls saying it's illegal to deny medical treatment to anyone just because they can't pay for it.

Not to mention the medical staff, not one of whom ever let a harsh or ill-natured word out of his or her mouth.

Maybe it was cruel of Dr. G. to send a weak old woman to the ER, when he could have let me go to this little secluded clinic in Leeds for "some blood work." We, who are strong enough to stand it, should all be subjected to such cruelty, to be shown how the other half tries to stay alive.

Uh oh!

'"Will Bullwinkle be able to extricate himself?"

'"I will, as soon as I get loose!"'

I've got to extricate myself from this lazy-dumps mood--I've got a dental appointment this afternoon, so I need some energy from somewhere. But it'll be all right as soon as I drag myself into the shower. I'm sure.

Three Days of the Weird Sisters

 

What a great weekend and Monday! Ramey and I went to the thrift store Saturday where I got a painting of three pears and stocked up on china coffee mugs. Afterwards we went to Cracker Barrel and I gobbled up some "campfire chicken" and vegetables.

On Sunday Susan and Ramey picked me up after church, and we went to Logan's and chowed down. Then Monday night Ramey and I went to poetry group meeting at the Arts Center; there was a crowd--13 poets and Spurgeon, whose mind is one long poem.

Somehow the subject of "Michael," the movie, came up. Since they didn't remember much about it, I'm thinking of inviting them over to watch it on Netflix if I can find it. Or maybe we could watch it at Susan's, so she wouldn't have to travel.

I napped this afternoon, so I can watch the final episode of "The Night Manager" on TV tonight without falling asleep in my chair.

Getting Stuff Done

Thursday and yesterday were very productive. I decided that I want a prairie-points edging on my leaf quilt. I folded paper for a pattern, assembled fabrics, cut out all the squares, folded and pressed them, and removed the old binding that I had messed up from the quilt's edge.

I plan to put the points around three sides, and bind the top edge with green bias tape. That's probably going to be the centus ultimus of my quilt-making, though I'm not sure I've made quite a hundred.

The lights keep going off and on. I've had to restart the computer. Wonder what the weather's doing.

Also yesterday, I wrote a poem, or the germ of a poem. I'll probably still be working on it years from now. The subject was suggested by Joan, according to a poem some guy had written. It's a run-on bunch of words with no form or rhythm. Poetry group meets Tuesday night (May 24), or maybe it was Monday night, I'll have to check, and I plan to go, although I can't hear what's going on.

Several days ago I ordered a new pair of jeans and two tee shirts from L.L. Bean, and they arrived yesterday. Very light colors, because it'll soon be summer. But the shirt that matched the jeans was out of stock. It's always something.

I'm re-reading John Le Carre's book, Call for the Dead. Then I plan to read Dictator, the third volume of Robert Harris's trilogy about Cicero and ancient Rome.

Today I need to go to the store, weather permitting.

Fontana Village

Fontana Village, near Ashville, NC, has changed a lot since we used to go there. The rates, compared to the 1950's-70's, still seem reasonable. Checking it out online, I didn't see anything about horses; I guess they've got rid of those nasty mammals. It looks so high-end and modern now, I don't think I would be so thrilled by it as I used to be.

Now I'm Resting.

I made chicken cacciatore, rice, and a salad for lunch. Dropped half a can of fire-roasted tomatoes in the floor and had to mop the kitchen. Flipped a piece of chicken under the burner on the cook-top and just got mad and flipped it back into the skillet. Fortunately, whenever I cook up a "mess o' sump'n," the rescued remains nearly always tastes good.

So now I'll go and see if lunch is as good as it smells.

A Good Family Trip

Ken Burns's documentary of Lewis and Clark's search for the Northwest Passage is showing on PBS, but it makes me so sad, I can't watch it. I've read Stephen Ambrose's book, Undaunted Courage, on the same subject, and just the words "Meriwether Lewis" sharply recall scenes from the book, which I can almost see. Lewis apparently inherited some of that clan's mental anomalies; otherwise, his personality and intellect should have enabled him to be a great statesman or explorer.

One fact I remember from Ambrose's book, was that of all Lewis and Clark's crew and the thousands of miles they travelled in unknown country, they lost only one man, someone who died early in the voyage of natural causes. Another "interesting" observation was that every man in the group received monetary rewards when they arrived home, except Clark's black slave York, who was a great help on the expedition but received nothing as a reward. At least he was freed later on, I think it was when Clark died, but I'm not sure.

Our weekend trip to Cullman, Ave Maria Grotto at St. Bernard's Abbey, was wonderful, if a bit exhausting for some of us. The path wound through the park, at first steeply downhill, and then on wandering paths, always on the rise. Ramey, India, Kylie, Reed, Jed and I all enjoyed it very much. This is my favorite photo of Jed on the trail:

Jed got some good shots of me, as well as the shrines and other buildings created by the monk Brother Joseph, but for some reason I can't print individual pictures from his collection. But here's a link to his photos: https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOnjqLkdFaqVIY1yP9Ba5KF98cFEpJTgTJO1yYk1-LWNaMESWqtT04IaFc9iglzrA?key=QlVLZmx0MEtlUGVTMkNKUlR0eHFZRHQ3QXZ0by1B

 

This was a beautiful blooming bush along the way. I thought it was some kind of hydrangea, but it may be a "snowball bush."

There's a most interesting series showing on the AMC TV channel, "The Night Manager." The fourth episode airs tomorrow night (Tuesday, May 10).

Well! I did figure out how to print a shot from Jed's Saturday pictures--very typical of me. I think I sat and rested on every bench along the way.

"Pretty Enough to Frame"

 

I saved this New Yorker cover all these years, and finally got around to putting it in a frame. Also posted it on Facebook.

Jennifer had a doctor appointment today, so Dave brought his friend Mike to help clean up the house. They really did a good job. Mike also helped him paint my kitchen about a year ago. Dave cleaned and "combed" all the carpets in the house, and it's a shame to have to walk on them and mess them up again.

Mr. Reed's guys also came today, mowed the grass (mostly clover), and cleaned up the yard.

We're going to Cullman on Saturday, "we" being Jed and I, and maybe India, Pat, Reed and Kylie, if nobody backs out. Susan remembered she and Andy had a date to go to a movie and lunch Saturday, so we'll miss them. The Ave Maria Grotto is what we'll visit in Cullman.

"Known throughout the world as 'Jerusalem in Miniature,' [the Ave Maria Grotto] is a beautifully landscaped, four-acre park designed to provide a natural setting for the 125 miniature reproductions of some of the most famous historic buildings and shrines of the world. The masterpieces of stone and concrete are the lifetime work of Brother Joseph Zoettl, a Benedictine monk of St. Bernard Abbey. Begun as a hobby, with various materials he could find, and infinite patience and a remarkable sense of symmetry and proportion, Brother Joseph re-created some of the greatest edifices of all time."

The Wikipedia article about Br. Joseph states that he was not accepted as a priest because of a rule, at that time, rejecting any candidate for priesthood who had a major physical deformity, and he had a stooped back as the result of an accident when he was young.

Cinema's Exiles

Monday and Tuesday this week were unusually good nights for TV. I watched Casablanca again on TCM, and on PBS Monday night watched Cinema's Exiles. It was shown again Tuesday, and I think can be viewed online. It shows a lot of film shots from the 1930's and later. In 1933, Hitler banned all Jewish movie actors and executives from German cinema, as well as Jewish sympathizers in the medium. They had already started fleeing Germany in, even before, 1930. Many of them succeeded in getting to the United States and helped make our film industry great in the 20th century. So many of our great actors, directors and producers have been Jews.

Spring Beauties

"Her lawn is like a meadow,

and if she mows the place,

she leaves the clover standing

and the Queen Anne's lace."

 

E. St.V. M.

 

*

I guess Mr. Reed's crew will be here tomorrow or Thursday to shave off all my clover.

There was a beautiful white cat with gray and orange spots in the back yard. I went to get the camera, and of course he/she left.

Oh, me!

I had forgot that I have a walk-in closet. Last night I got a bee in my bonnet and partially cleaned it out.

So far there are two trash bags of stuff to throw away, one trash bag of stuff to donate, and the rest of those items out in the floor. Still in the closet are two big suitcases, several smaller bags. 2 bolts of fabric, & a three-shelf wire rack full of folded sweaters and things. Not counting the hanging clothes and the things [dolls] on the high built-in shelves that I'm ignoring because I can't reach them.

That pile of stuff in the hall outside my door are a set of queen-sized sheets that I had lost, and more very large pieces of fabric.

I need to have a yard sale. But as sure as I schedule a week-end sale, the skies will open up and pour rivers of water all over everything.

Oh--the shoes are against the wall on the other side of the bed, all except those old hikers beside the big doll's box. Wurra wurra!

*

9:00 p.m. I just watched The Uninvited (1944) on TCM, with Ray Milland, Gail Russell, Ruth Hussey and Donald Crisp, all great actors. I don't know which ghost movie I like better, The Uninvited, or The Haunting of Hill House, (1959) with Julie Harris, Claire Bloom and Richard Johnson. The Uninvited is rather naïve in some ways, partly owing to Ray Milland's sunny personality. The Haunting of Hill House is a bit more sophisticated, and a hundred times scarier, but I'm not fond of any of the actors except Claire Bloom.