Before our Writer's Workshop - we missed you Beatriz, Carly and Mary - I stopped at Matt's Camera Shop right next door to the Giant and gave him a gift for fixing my camera: an autographed copy of Suspicious Activity, done by my son/law's jazz trio, The Bad Plus. Right now I'm listening to Dave Brubeck, while eating pistachios I bot today at the Giant.
Always eating, always blogging.
Am waiting for Scott to come over. Hopefully we can go for a walk before it gets dark.
Half an hour passes.
We just got home. A terrific walk thru our backyard and out onto Davisville Road where we visited several industries including the vacant Elmar Blinds.
Five people presented at the Giant.
Kym Cohen read a terrific short story called "Rudy." It was about a handsome man she met while attending the University of Arizona.
There is something wonderful about basking in the presence of beauty, whether it's a man or a woman. Thother day I was eating meatballs at Flori's Cafe. A woman I've met before was eating there and I made sure I plopped myself down several tables away b/c all she does is complain.
After she left a tall man came in. I paid no attn to him b/c I was talking to someone else who was eating BBQ chicken wings. Like me, she has diabetes.
After she left, the tall man, carrying a cup of coffee was heading for the door.
I looked outside and saw a Cadillac w/New York plates.
As you know, I can make conversation w/just about anyone.
"You're from New York?" I said. "And you drove all the way down to Flori's cafe."
The man was incredibly handsome, tall and with a shaved head. I wanted to keep him in my eye-view for as long as possible, simply b/c he was such a succulent peach!
Clearly, he wanted to come across as a wealthy man. In fact, he told me he didn't have much money.
"I rented the car in New York," he told me. "This is my first trip to the East Coast."
I was flabbergasted.
He's from Portland, OR. Of course I told him my sister Amy lives in Eugene and it's beautiful country.
He works at an insurance company in Portland and was meeting w/several financiers in Langhorne, I believe, and wanted to introduce his company to them.
We bid each other adieu and wished each other luck.
"Maybe we'll meet again at Flori's," he said, after I recommended the food to him.
Am so glad I blogged about this. No great experience should ever go unnoticed.
I liked this shot of a pensive Linda Barrett. We all loved her poem "The Course of True Love Never did Run Smooth," inspired by Valentine's Day.
I think it was Martha who suggested she give it to a married couple. I walked out of the Giant w/Linda who loves nothing more than to walk home. She carried a bag of Giant groceries but was determined to walk home, altho I offered her a ride.
"Doesn't it feel great to walk," I asked.
"Yes," she said. "I wanna lose a couple of pounds."
I told her she looked great.
As you know, I had back surgery last August, so the feeling of w-a-l-k-i-n-g and swinging my arms is so sweet for me.
Donna Krause began the workshop by showing us photos of her absolutely adorable grandson, John. Then she read a fine poem called Fred. The first and last lines were "Flup! Flup!"
Nails of Donna Krause
Fred was a poem for children and we encouraged her to send it to Highlights for Children. She'd already submitted one and the editor gave her constructive feedback, which is practically unheard of unless they really like your work.
Lastly, Martha Hunter, who gets paid big bucks for advertising Coco-Cola, read a fascinating poem about her 12-yo granddaughter who went on a retreat for Christian children at a conference center up in the Poconos. 300 kids were bussed up there from this area.
It was a fine poem w/some really good lines in it.
Since I only wear nail polish when one of my children gets married, I admire other people who wear it. Here's Kym's beautiful painted nails.
This reminds me of my experience Saturday nite at the K-Mart. I needed curtain rods - see my poem below - and drove to the "Big K" 7 minutes away from home.
Altho it smells awful when you walk in, dunno why, they have lovely items.
A Muslim woman named Heather helped me choose rugs and find the curtain rods. I made FOUR TRIPS back and forth to K-Mart yesterday, returning a rug, and then buying two Jaclyn Smith rugs for the price of one rug, materialist that I am.
A young man with gorgeous long painted nails rang me up. I told him how beautiful they were. I was feeling overjoyed b/c at last I found two rugs for the price of one. Cost me a pretty penny - $40.
My poem is about the pants I'm wearing in the photo, not about the stapler I brot from home.
Before we get to my poem, lemme tell you what Scott and I are doing tonite.
The Giant has raw pizza dough that has already been shaped. Right now, Scott is sauteing veggies to put on top, he'll top it w/spaghetti sauce from a jar, and then add mootz-a-rella, as he pronounces it.
Then we'll watch "The Fighter" w/Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale. My friend Judy Diaz told me it's a great movie and to watch for the performance of Melissa Leo, who is finally coming into her own. She was married to an abusive man who held her back.
Even tho my Gramma Lily was an expert seamstress, I can't sew a stitch. When my clothes need alterations, I take them to Star Cleaners in Willow Grove.
Yanie Choi and husband Ken run Star Cleaners. Here's a poem I wrote about her.
THE QUEEN OF KOREA ARRIVES IN AMERICA
Note: "Yoni" is pronounced "yahnny."
you called and said your husband overcharged me
come after noon and your jeans and curtains will be ready
your voice rivaled the sparrows at my birdbath
but when I arrived
you were not there
clothes hung obediently in plastic bags
a woman’s dress
a man’s suit
awaiting further adventures until
death took them cruelly or with kindness
the door jangled with bells
in you walked
this, his wife?
Ken looked tired
a rugged old oak
with crisp falling leaves
that mistook themselves for birds
she scurried around the counter
i live next door and the
furnace man has come
she placed the jeans on the counter
a scrubs-color green
and the torn curtains,
hair black as the raven
an opera star
cheeks rouged just so
i wanted to call her your ladyship
a woman of stature
sewing hems on desiccated curtains
your beauty could fill a byronic poem
may Ken praise you to his Jehovah,
his Watchtower spread on his desk
your beauty transcends the visible
i glimpsed your spirit behind your beating heart
I spread the green scrubs upon my floor and
moaned: she stitched the hem in white!
then noticed all the stitching is in white.
the sheer curtains hang dutifully in Sarah’s old room
faded, gray, their time has come
Yoni will make me new ones
for a song
rhapsody in blue? madame butterfly?
A fine excuse to see her again.
I am nothing to her.
She is everything to me: