They're ready for their close-up

If Blanche DuBois was a rhododendren bush

The tall as the house rhodos in bloom...of course, not in full blown fresh bloom since I entirely forgot I had intended to post a picture of them once in bloom...so they are on the fading side of perfection but still pink lovely (I think I will change that to my bio description...).

Blue, in a good way, and a poem

A photo from last summer - one of the second floor windows of the Echo Lake Aquarium in Burlington, Vermont.

A poem for Friday:

http://www.medcelt.org/feile-festa/v003/poetry/moorhead.html

one little, two little, three little groundhogs...

What? Another photo of the baby groundhog? Or is it? We started to notice the baby groundhog was all over the place until we figured out...five baby groundhogs! This does not bode well for our neighbor's garden (ours is toast as previously stated). The husband and I were saying people probably "do away" with these things...but I mean, c'mon! How cute is this? Besides mama groundhog is scary and I don't want to get on her bad side. I have to say we are a bit overwhelmed by all of these critters...what to do, if anything?

Baby groundhog!

I have never seen a groundhog in our back yard that wasn't the size of a couch. Or at least a loveseat. It's hard to tell but this little guy was about the size of a sneaker. He was trying to be very good and stay still like Mama in the bushes had told him, but he kept spacing out and sniffing and moving his head and staring at us, then waddled slowly off into the ferns. I am sure he will get a groundhog lecture at bedtime just as I am sure that my flowers are toast. Once again.

Braver by the minute

I have always had an enormous phobia of rats - so, of course, the oldest child had pet rats as a teen (hidden in her room, bribing her brother top dollar not to tell). So when she "rescued" these from a feeding tank at a lizard show (don't even ask why...or I will have to tell you the rescued chicken story) I was horrified. And so, of course, I ended up days later, feeding them while she was at work, kitten formula in an eye dropper, baby rats crawling all over me, one even fell asleep in my shirt pocket. Much deep breathing. I am still scared of rats - but not phobic. They have beautifully delicate feet by the way. She kept one, his name is Caden. He's actually very sweet even though I still get the willies sometimes just looking at him (he's big now).

More Art Play Fun

Whether you create or appreciate, it's all the same, the artist or the model, the reader or the writer, it all twines the braid of the muse (okay, I'll stop - two hours of American Idol finale with an 8 year old who is bummed "his" David didn't win - whaddaya want?)... anyhoo:

http://www.sieshoeke.com/artists/uta-barth and

this which makes me happy: http://misterrob.co.uk/

and too fabulous: http://www.nocloo.com/home/index.php

and this which I love so much I cannot speak...http://www.fromoldbooks.org/ I will come back in my next life as a rare book seller who specializes in children's books and oddities (and who sings in a caberet with a smoky voice, and who lives in an old sea captain's house, and who has smaller feet and higher cheekbones, and who can draw really well, and who doesn't flip out when she cannot find her car keys, and who can persuade the dogs the couch is off limits because it annoys the husband, and who will constantly think deep, spiritual thoughts and not get emotional when David Cook's brother points to him at the close of the show and mouths "he's my brother" and I go all loopy because he loves that his brother is happy and it's so sweet.

blow out the candles

New discovery - a wonderful blog about a tribe of Ginger Cats in, I think, Wales (wherever it is, I want to walk about there, most fantastic) and the photography and prose just draw you in to its magical world wonderful: http://wethreecats.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html

I have been reading poetry throughout the day, returning to poets that use language which understands the spokes of my thoughts - Charles Simic for the sense of instant kindred and therefore putting me in a better mood, Mary Oliver for the heartbeat, Wallace Stevens for the shapes of pictures that make me nod but I cannot explain. And here's one for the day, http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=181383

and a happy birthday to my first girl, my second birth, my selkie child.

How high to the sky?

Sometime ago in the spirit of procrastination meets curiosity, we decided to see how tall the rhododendron might get if left unpruned.

This tall.

A bit absurd, but the reward is a mountain of purple flowers when they all bloom plus great privacy from our neighbors.

Next year - the roof?

near bloom

"...the petals reach inward, the blue tips bend toward the bluer heart
and the flowers are lost." H.D. from Evening

Hands in dirt bliss and a hissy Tortoise

Xander (the Russian Tortoise) came out with me and both dogs to work in the garden, not the recipe for getting a lot done in the most efficient way but way more fun. Xander tried many sneaky escapes, hissing when being retrieved, o frustrated Tortoise.
Understandable, the dirt, budding green things, the season opening up, summer coming towards us with wide wings. It makes all thoughts of "to do's" clear straight out of my head.

rain and a homecoming

Rain all day, a decided perk about library work is that rain suits the job. Nothing as cozy as being in a library surrounded by books and the interior hush, rain falling steadily outside.

The oldest son is home from college, tons of bags, good will, and summer plans. The husband who fetched him was exhausted. The oldest son went out around ten, already restless. Do you remember that kind of restlessness? I was talking about that a few days ago with a friend at work. Remember that kind of crazy edgy restlessness as a teenager? I would hang out my (very high up) bedroom window on summer nights, listening to the sounds of the night, feeling crazy with the sense of confinement, the lure of a summer night, the heat and the sound of cicadas, the random cars driving on the road (going somewhere, somewhere exciting!). Now I am all for what I am aiming for right now - bed and my book - the Girls Like Us giant sized memoir I am reading in small bits. If Carole King rewrote Up on the Roof nowadays, maybe she'd write "snug in my bed" instead. At least on a rainy chilly night.

Happy Mother's Day!

Hugs and kisses, flowers and cards, snuggles and smooches. Taking a moment to reflect on what a rollicking, blessed, amazing ride my life has been because of my children. Who love me even if I don't make them glazed doughnuts :)

A bad walk and a remark.

Took the small dog, Moky, on a walk with my youngest. Thought it might be fun to walk through the seaside park at twilight. Forgot that Moky thinks all car trips mean he is going to the vet. He whined horribly all the way there when he didn't make himself gasp for breath, gag, and then whine/gasp some more. Once at park, a large loose dog (no owner in sight) dashes past us after a rabbit that was about the size of Moky. Small dog flips out. Does circus leaps to be lifted up and wraps leash around my ankles. Small boy goes into a quiet panic mode, convinced the large dog will tire of rabbit chasing and hunt for us. I try to jolly everyone up through the park when I realize night is falling more quickly than I had thought and I can no longer see that well. Small boy afraid of dark. Dog whining incessantly. Passing people walking very pleasant and calm dogs give us looks. I am now secretly on large dog alert myself and fully irritated with both small boy and Moky mainly since they are worried about the same thing I am worried about, but I am trying to pretend all is well. Apparently badly since son and dog are not buying my act. By the time we reach the car, I am snapping at both of them for hanging on to me like limpets. Dog whines all the way home. Son suspiciously silent. Safely home, we find the husband in a nostalgic mood looking at photos. He regales son with story of a childhood friend whose mom made the best glazed doughnuts he ever had. My son looks at me and says "You should learn to make glazed doughnuts. People would like you more."

a little green, a little blue

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xag3vLtsO-k&feature=related

Snapshots

Stumbled upon photography....

http://www.squareamerica.com/ back in the day and every face a story,

an article about photobooths (I still have fond memories of a rainy day in my twenties in an old Woolworth's and a bunch of Halloween masks, great fun) http://www.7dvt.com/2008/strip-miner, I love photobooths. You hardly see them anymore.

http://www.polanoid.net/ collection being built of polaroids...you can add to it (where are those ones I took of cousin Marcia and that stray cat we adopted?)

http://www.cap.ac.uk/ Children taking photographs...

In a meantime

Not blocked but meantimed, that is how it is lately. The roughs of two poems delivered like a present while the other writing isn't clicking, isn't working.

Very frustrating. Meantimed.

little alters and impending carnage

Everywhere are little gatherings of things, groupings of things meaningful, things that might look random but are not. I am sure everyone does this. Feels very Mrs. Dalloway on some level.
Meanwhile... Mr. Grimshaw ate most of the baby guppies. I liked the baby guppies. Now we have more guppies. I liked these guppies more than him. I don't think I am a fan of this whole circle of life thing. I was thinking Mr. Grimshaw should eat boca burgers and leave my new guppie pals alone. There is a small element of playing God when having pets, deciding who lives, who is food, who is alpha, and so on, that I really don't care for. Then my husband informed me that the big guppies ate the remaining baby guppies. I thought they were all guppie pals and was quite disappointed to realize this is not the case. Clearly, I would not do well on a farm or in a situation that demanded I provide my own food beyond a shopping cart and my debit card.