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.

The sea, the sea, and poetry

Up to Mystic for a night and back, the weather so warm we swore it was summer but for the mostly bare tree branches. A perfect getaway, tooling around Watch Hill and Westerly, RI. Today, the Feile-Festa literary journal readings at the Mulberry St. Library in NYC, nice turn-out, the issue looks splendid with stunning photographs of Ellis Island, and of course, great content. Link to the website which will probably be updated soon (last issue's writings make for a good read, too).
http://www.medcelt.org/feile-festa/index.html

Sky Magnolias

Pinkalicious, the name of a popular children's book that I ordered for the library for one of my four year old "regulars" who only wore pink (that was last year, lately she seems to have moved onto other colors). But ah, today I am set my mind to indoor tasks, finally tackling some giant piles of papers, some editing, and it has to go and be all pink-scented and fabulous outside.

It's just an enormous soul WOW sometimes to step outside the door into the day.

Just like that

Amazing how it just happens, Spring, just like that. One minute gray, the next - whump! You've got forsythia and magnolias blooming all over the place. The magnolia tree is my neighbors, always love that it nods onto our driveway; one of my favorite trees. Tonight we watched the movie my youngest gave me for my birthday, Enchanted, which was delightful - but now I cannot get the "Happy Little Working Song" tune out of my head - especially since my daughter had one of her pet rats dancing to the music. Why all these pets cannot do household chores is beyond me, the least they could do is a wee bit of scrubbing here and there in exchange for snackies, yes? Maybe we need to keep singing to them.

The one and only Emily Pajamas

She's looking good for an old gal. Fourteen and a half which translates into what in people years? I followed her around the yard forever trying to get her to pose, but she is deaf so my calls to look up went unheeded. Here she is wondering what my daughter is saying to her - looking very patient if a bit bewildered by all our armwaving and nonsense (she is sooooo used to our nonsensical ways by this point in time...).

yardwork antics

A break in the Spring clean-up of the yard. It's actually bloomed up quite a bit since the week or so ago this picture was taken. In the meantime, a large coyote has taken to wandering through the yard - spotted at night which seems reasonable in an animal kingdom sort of way, but now he is cruising in the midafternoon. A neighbor said he might be a coydog - half coyote and half dog since he is so big (and yet so obviously coyote). None of this seems to bode well for the neighborhood cats or my two little dogs. The old girl is deaf and arthritic, the younger one does not have much sense. Worrisome.

When we came back from Vermont last year, we read a post about all the wild creatures...and we thought how in twenty years of visiting Vermont, we have seen dogs (not feral), bunnies (but in a box for sale), and a snake. Here in a 'burb right outside of Manhattan we have had the following stroll through (or fly above) the yard: deer, skunks, weasel, bunnies, tortoise, wild turkeys, groundhogs, pheasant, fox, hawks, raccoons, owls, bats, rats, mice, voles, chipmunks and squirrels, a variety of birds, and now coyote. Not to mention cats and dogs, of course, and a small boy wearing a gardening bag on his head.

Poetry Reading in NYC

If you happen to be in NYC on Saturday, April 26th, there will be a launch for the Spring 2008 issue of Feile-Festa, a literary arts journal, from 3:00-4:30 at the Mulberry Street Branch Library (10 Jersey Street, NYC). Come meet and greet, come hear some great poetry and writing, come cheer me on when I read my poem. Spring and art in the city, what could be more inspiring?

Mr. Grimshaw update and birthday kvetching

The ever elusive and camera shy Mr. Grimshaw was not pleased with me - it took about twelve shots to get anything of him at all, especially since the tank is on a dresser wedged in a corner - same corner he likes to hide in.

He now has all four legs - when the last one (front) was coming in, he seemed quite disturbed - a frog version of teen angst, I imagine. Now he has all legs and his tail (which is providing him nourishment as his mouth changes) is rapidly diminishing. He tried a bit of a couple froggie moves the other day, kicking action, even head poking out of the water, very cool. I think he is discovering there may be some adventures linked to his new form.

How must it feel to turn from one creature to another? As my Wednesday birthday approaches, I could say something about aging turning me into some other sort of creature... my youngest son cannot imagine not being THRILLED about a birthday and gaining another year.

Move over, Mr. Grimshaw, I may join you.

Images

What's more powerful - the imprint on your mind from a book or a movie? Reading Black Juice, short stories by Margo Lanagan, (note her blog to the side, Among Amid While), the kind of characters and stories you think about after the book is closed. And just saw I am Legend which probably had more visual impact for me just because I know the (NY) city - if it was in Los Angeles like the original novel, would it have had the same impact? It reminds me of Jurassic Park, we came out of the movies in Wilton, Ct (very quiet) and could almost hear raptors rustling in the leaves as we walked to our car. Of course, the main question is how am I going to go to sleep now that I've scared myself to pieces?

Boy Toys and April at last

The real deal, not Madonna's version. I love walking into my son's room and seeing the strange assemblages of creatures, old Halloween masks, alien invaders, and the occasional stuffed animal toy squooshed in there as well. Rather horrible day countered by the fact that winter is behind us. Hope is a thing called sweater weather.