No throngs for me

Bacon and peanut butter sandwiches? Does anyone remember a bacon and peanut butter craze in the 70's? Because my husband claims to and I replied eewww. Because that would be disgusting. Same time peanut butter cups came out. I don't like those either so I doubt I would have noticed any craze. I have yet to google. They talk about google fu but I worry about google fear. Just eewww. What you really don't want to know.

Happy thanksgiving to those that celebrate. The plans seem to be going well here.

Shopping tomorrow will not be. I have checked the flyers in the newspaper and there are no sales large enough for me to bother to get out of bed to arrive at the stores at 3 or 4 am. Plus it is finally cold here. So I really doubt I will do that. I will have to check to see if the stuff that looks potentially purchasable will be available online. No throngs for me.

Have a great day, and thanks for reading. I appreciate it very much!!

[insert title]

[Insert complaint about hunger]
[Insert complaint about not writing often enough]
[Insert complaint about neck hurting]
[Insert complaint that I haven't thought of yet]

How's that sound?

It was foggy today, so that was cool. I love warmish fog. Not the cold stuff, because ewwww cold! But the gentle, sometimes blowing in off a lake, sort of fog. I love that. We rarely get it here, and I miss it. I was reminded about fog horns today, and apparently I miss those too. As beautiful as the prairie is, and it really is, some of the grand gestures nature makes are welcome. The quiet prairie sometimes needs the booms of thunder just to rouse it up a bit. Like thunderstorms during snowstorms, again the clash. A good thing. There could be snow tomorrow, so a thunderstorm amongst that would be lovely.

Distant tarnished mirrors

Last night a question prompted me to go searching through my box of stuff from college, and eventually towards the bottom of the box, I found all my old poems. Oh my. Thank god I never had a place to post them anywhere back then. I would have I betcha. I was young. That will the excuse I use, because, I was young. I also found my old diary, and for that too, I will only say, I was young. ::pats head of younger self::

Interestingly, despite the fact I did not write for years, this diary did chronicle how much I loved to write (which I had forgotten), and how I felt about several of the poems written. What was amusing, was that there were poems sprinkled throughout the diary, seemingly whenever they would pop into my mind. There was little editing from thought to finger to pen to paper. I laughed several times. Some are still true. I can look at them critically now, and much of their content: angst and angst. There were a few good lines I think, and I might steal a few of them for the present day. We shall see. One was published in the university newspaper poetry section, and another was published in the yearly poetry journal they put out. Oh my.

Also, interestingly, at least to me, is I know exactly the reason I stopped writing, nothing traumatic but definitely a reason. Now that I am writing again, I wonder what that does to the meaning of that reason. I don't care really, but I am looking at it Cheshire Cat like. Appearing and disappearing at will.

Have a great day!

Recentness

This is an awesome post. I am not sure if I agree with everything it posits about the suburbs but it raises hugely valid questions. I am not sure if any specific designation as a city can be described in any one way. There is evil and good in any area. I think it is a class issue rather than locale. I know people who are living in poverty in the suburbs, both morally and financially.

I was raised far from the suburbs, but am now raising my children in them. Suburbs do soften life, I will admit that. It physically and literally removes you from blatant poverty. Often times people feel they have risen (artful choice of words to describe that escape from poverty don't you think?) out of poverty. In my most recent education last week, in New Orleans that was, is a true fact. You are on higher land when you have money. You are not flooded. You have literally risen.

I realized back in the day that purchasing a car removed me from poor life. I stopped seeing certain aspects of poorer life once I owned a car. I just did not see it any more. I think suburbs do that too. You just don't see it any more, and if you don't know to look, or know where to look, gone. But again, not necessarily different from a rich person who lives in a penthouse removed from the street.

Again it comes to character. That can be had anywhere. I think the more wealth one has, it is even more important to know where to look, and to choose to continue to look. The padding of money allows one the choice, if they choose, not to look. And if one chooses not to look, that IMO is evil. I am trying to raise my children in the suburbs, by trying to show them how to look past the padding of a suburban life. I will admit it is hard, as most parents want to shield their children from harshness. I can only hope and try that the character they, we forge is enough to get past the padding.

Fascinating stuff. Thanks and have a great day!

Clash of the organized titans

Today I noticed something I had noticed before, but it was especially obvious today. I am fascinated with how people line up with what they know, where they see safety in how others whom they think believe as they do. They fall in line with that comradery because it verifies their own world view. Everyone does this of course, but I noticed today especially how one person totally glommed onto the other because they thought they were of like minds. I guess why I noticed it especially, is because they lined up in the other camp than I would be in. Watching them verify who they are, by joining forces was interesting. How these two people will eventually get along, if they do, is still to be determined. I know one of them pretty well, and I could see that the odd comment the other was making will be their downfall. How their like mindedness only goes so far, and the very thing that they bonded over will be the thing that tears them apart.

Human interaction is always interesting. Always. Even when you vehemently disagree. On the topic of my trip last week, I was sharing what I saw when there, and a person with whom I generally disagree on all topics said she agreed with me on the said topic. But her reasoning was completely opposite to mine. She and I came to the same conclusion, but her argument I found repugnant. It is just her conclusion I completely agreed with. How we humans can do this I find fascinating too. Strange bedfellows as the saying goes.

Again, the fallout, whatever it will be, will be interesting. I will take my ZEN post-it note and hug it close.

Have a great evening.

Domestic talk, real time...

The fellow that is installing our new dishwasher is here right now. He is removing the old one as we speak. It had a recall on it, so it was in our best interest to purchase a new one. Apparently, this one doesn't even have replacement parts any more. So the option of repair, which was given to us, isn't actually possible. We wouldn't have qualified for it anyway, because we had used that fluid you can use to keep spots from appearing on your dishes. The recall had to do with fires starting from that part leaking. Anyhoo, so he showed me how to show "proof of destruction", so we can get our rebate. Also, I was quite pleased that it isn't as gross as I feared under the dishwasher. There is a little open bit near the corner, and dust and stuff would regularly pile up there.

As you can see I am...oooh, the old one is now out and he is going outside to "prep" the new one.

Live blogging dishwasher replacement...ok, it will try to think of something else for today.... more later.

ughrhgh

Yet another reason I love Crooks and Liars.

File under lord help us. given that seems to be a huge part of the problem /upsetting talk

I hope to get some writing done before skating/grocery shopping. They skate, I go grocery shopping. I haven't done a full shop in a while, as I was gone, so our larder is lardless. Actually not true, I have some old lard from two Christmas' ago, when a recipe I wanted to make called for lard, and I could only purchase it in a four pack. So I have three left over, not to be used. I wonder how long that stuff keeps. Probably forever.

And even though it means nothing to anyone, I am in full support of the Writer's strike. Good for them. Also, I am enjoying the picket lines that are shown in print, on the internet and randomly on tv. Just nice to see writers out. In public, not in their office caves writing. It is excellent to put faces to that industry. For people whose skills keep them tied to a computer this opportunity gets their numbers out, not hidden away. They don't have the visibility of the actors, or directors, so this is an opportunity for them I think.

That is enough procrastinating! Have a great day.

Spooky Feather 2 - not a movie

I think I titled another post feathers, so this shall be 2.

Today we drove to a year round ice rink for the family to skate. As it turns out only two of the four of us did. My son and I sat at the table area. I brought all my drafts that I printed out last week, the story, the short story and two poems. I expected to work on the story, but since I hadn't read the short story in a while, my eyes went to that. I worked on it a bit, between issuing quarters to my son for the video sort of game. Car racing. I got a bit of editing done. But that isn't the spooky part.

I am not one to be superstitious, or have spooky things happen. Well not often anyway. We won't speak today of knowing when the phone will ring, or premonitions, or things like that. But of feathers. The short story I am writing has quills and feathers in it shall we say? While editing, I was thinking that I liked the story, and it needs work, more action, and that it is funky, but kind of cool, not religious but might be perceived that way, and those sorts of neurotic OMG I suck thoughts. I do try to have some sort of confidence in what I do, knowing full well it all needs so much work. As we were walking out to the car, I was still pondering these fear-y thoughts, and what do I see, but a feather! On the concrete steps up to the parking lot. I love when life speaks to you and gently pats you on the back, easing the fears a little. I smiled, told my daughter, who thought it was way too freaky! Mommy at it again! Seeing metaphor in all she does.

But the feathery point remains, that fate placed a feather, coincidentally or not, in my path. Darn, I should have kept it. I was so surprised, it didn't occur to me to keep it. Oh well, maybe it will be helpful for someone else one day. Like today it was for me!!

Chicken, seriously

Last night we went for the first time, to a restaurant that is best known for its chicken. They even have a giant chicken statue outside the restaurant. And a piano player for our entertainment who could play the piano well. Food was fine but that isn't why I am reporting it here.

I realized as we walked into the restaurant that I have to rewrite the restaurant scene in the story I am writing and locate it there. The ambiance, the dark paneling, and the pew! seating just has (insert much emphasis here) to be in the story. It smelled like an aged used book store, but shockingly, to me anyway, it wasn't a problem. I can't remember the last time I was at a restaurant with live music. Nothing intrusive at all (unlike the brass chicken decor), but still enjoyable. I could wholly picture my characters sitting there for their first dinner. Totally perfect location. I was surprised at my luck. Perfect. Maybe I will even have a chance to rewrite it today before the setting fades into the black of my short term memory. Yet another reason for noting it here. I love my tags.

Have a great one!!!

Idol chatter

I read a ton of blogs on Bloglines, but I totally forget to put them here. I promise I will try to remember from now on.

..promises, promises, do you remember the promises...

god stuff riffing forward, on vacation readings

This and this are lovely.

I won't label myself either because what I think I believe doesn't fit in either place. No surprise when speaking of religion. I don't know what is after, or more than this material world, but I have had experiences that speak to another place and that I can't deny. I don't know if the stories of the religions fit with what I believe but I do think they are attempts at describing this other. I was speaking to my niece today about this very subject, and she is at the point of discovering that stuff sometimes doesn't add up. But I don't think that denies that there is some other thing, power, word that isn't available to describe this thing we all seem to want to describe. I love that we each apply our lives to this discovery, and in that the world expands. Even if there is no other, the discussion about such reaffirms what we are anyway. And that is good.

Images

Well that took more time than I thought. I uploaded an image for my header. I must have had to resize it 8 times because there is no function on blogger to do that automatically. Anyway, I am happy with it. Lovely prairie.

Have a great day. We are off to the zoo!

First thoughts post Napo.

I ran out of gas just before our houseguests arrived, and I only got it back, in a very sort of kind of tertiary way two days ago. That was because I gave up any hope of accomplishing anything. Like Buffy learns in Becoming, when you have nothing left, all you have is yourself. In that I am proud of the last two poems. There was family news, which was difficult to process also.

I think I did a better overall job of writing last year. I think I had learned much more between Napo 1 and Napo 2 last year. This year I haven’t had the chance to read as much poetry as I ought to, therefore fewer gains. Between work changes and stress and other stuff, it takes a toll. It is reflected in the poetry.

I doubt I will annotate the poems like I started to last year. I got a few done, and then I never got back to it. I can’t even remember all of the poems I wrote. As with the last two Napo’s, possibly when I go back and read a few, I might like them. I think others will probably just scare me. We shall see.

I know that I have to work with revisions, obviously, but I do know immediately when a poem will work. I feel it. If I don’t have that feeling, the poem might be all right, but it doesn’t zing or hit me where I demand poetry hit me. On Loan, which was on loan from a blip I wrote in about 4 minutes sometime in the last few months, had that feeling the first time, as well as the day I wrote it. A few from the beginning had that feeling, because I was so inspired by the beginning of Napo.

Reading others poetry really shows me how much I have to learn. I knew that of course, but to see the production of others, really very good stuff, every day for a month, is humbling. Amazing stuff. I know I am nowhere near that.

I don’t mind that this exercise lets me find my place. It allows me to see weaknesses in what I write. That is humbling too, and very frightening. But when I feel humiliated or depressed about what I am writing, I look back to what I have written before, and see that I actually have achieved something over the years. As long as my trajectory is forward, and better, even if by plodding steps, I can deal.

I love the brains of some of the writers of the Napo poems at PFFA. I wish I could write like some of them when I grow up. Sigh. If I am motivated at some point, I will link to my fav’s.

Thanks to everyone who commented, made suggestions and generally kept me going. I appreciate that.

Vicky, who is going to rest now.

They would be wrong

Now I am laughing. I used the Gender Genie for the poem below, first stanza, and it turns out I am male.

Words: 39
(NOTE: The genie works best on texts of more than 500 words.)
Female Score: 52
Male Score: 139
The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: male!

They usually are correct, when I have played before. Given the shortness of the sample, I am not surprised. But I wonder if my poetry is male!

Day 17

Recent Questions

If the spirit of your boy can
be broken by a girl kicking
a soccer ball, just how strong
was his spirit before the game?

With arms spread, holding tight,
do pylons play skip with their wires
at night when we aren’t
looking?

Shouldn’t flags be flown
at half mast all of the time,
and at full mast for the special
somber reasons?

If the men write of their hard
won achievements and war,
and the women write of their children and wishing
true love, and the children write of future
fantasy, what does that leave for me?

If your poetry scares
me, does that mean I
frighten easily?

If your poetry doesn’t scare
me, does that mean
you haven’t done your job?

If my spirit, holding tight, flies
at half mast, writing future fantasy,
easily frightened, am I
doing my job?


Crack I say, crack!!!! Thanks for reading.
Vicky (you should have seen the other drafts, and yes there were other drafts. Scary!)

Cocoa

My 7 (almost 8 in two weeks) year old son wrote a poem last night. He asked me if it should rhyme and I told him it didn't have to. We read a few humorous poems from the PFFA and he was quite amused and I think that got him into a poetry writing mood. Then he wrote his poem. I told him to use images to tell what he wanted to. He told me I couldn't post it, darn, but I will post just one simile he used:

like watered silk

He has a way with words. So does my daughter who won a writing contest last year. I could learn a thing or two from them.

Have a great day!
Vicky

Since The Road

Huh, Blogger changed the margins in the posting box here. Oh well.

Since reading The Road, I have noticed apocolyptic [heh, this word isn't in the Blogger spellcheck] sorts of themes in many movies over Christmas like The Terminator, and asteroids crashing into earth and other doomsday scenarios. Is that a New Years thing? Last night I had a dream about a saran attack on a nearby apartment building, when we were out of town. Stuff always happens off screen in my dreams. It is a thing. Then I was reading the internets this morning, and someone commented about the comet. Sigh.

Between world politics not being in a picnic basket, but other sorts, I can see how this is happening. Heck, maybe a short story will come from it. My mother in law told a story the other day, that I really want to use. It would tie nicely into this theme.

Have a great day. I am going to hit preview now, and see how this will look. Wish me luck! ETA: It was funky, so I reposted. ::tries again::

drops, of many things really

At some point I will have to sort the links to the left in alphabetical order. But until then, I am going to keep them in the order in which I discover them. A history of sorts.

Woke with two poem bits in my head. That certainly does save me the work of actually trying to think about what to write. I want to call it, oh, I don't know, something referring to political leadership, but that might be too Marilyn-ish. A fractured haiku. First go rounds are evil.

[Poem deleted for extreme woosie-ness]
__

Did you know that Goethe would tap out his metre for his poems on his lover's back? How wonderful is that?

Have a great day!

How many months are in the year?

Oh my. I might do this here.