Saturday, November 7, 2015

Writing marathon helped by coffee - Poem: Planting Pansies in November

It's 72 degrees inside my house. Just went for a brief walk in the cool night air, since I've been submitting stories for a couple of hours. No one was about. Cloudy skies with nary a star twinkling above. And a faint whiff of skunk.

Simmering for many hours today was my Curried Lentil and Coconut Milk Soup.

Outrageously delicious! It's my version of the soup my friend Maria from Jenkintown made.

Let's do a lil Rorschach with the soup. To me, it's like looking under a microscope and watching little critters swirling around, creating new life forms.

I checked out Ben Carson's book Gifted Hands from the library. Posted it on FB and learned to my horror that great portions of it are lies! 

Will read another chapter or so and then stop. Probly the prologue is the best part. He and his team separated Siamese twins whose heads were joined. No other neurosurgeons would take the case, but with his gifted hands, he and the team succeeded.

Wonder what the late Everett Koop would think. I did read Koop's autobiography as I really admired the man and I love medical stories.

Was upstairs when I was submitting my stories, including a new one I just wrote called The Session about a therapy session Lydia has with one Lillian. It's flash fiction, about 900 words.

Was talking with my therapist friend Judy Diaz this evening and we were talking about doing therapy. I told her that if I needed therapy, I could only think of one person I would trust: Judy Diaz.

She told me to read The Times Book Review, the story about... I can't find it, so let's read this one.

About the Holocaust. I know. My endless fascination.

Hey, did I tell you what happened on my upstairs computer? My mouse ran out of batteries. Was gonna work on my novel.

Bought these pansies at Kremp Florist. It took about an hour to plant em all. Poem at the end explains the process. 

 The above planter was given to me by Judy Diaz. Am gonna send her a card soon. Spray painted the front and back of a political ad on the back porch. It dried quickly.
After I finish bloggin, and read a couple of the links I've published, I'll watch a couple movies I checked out from the library. I should fall asleep within an hour.


My garden was finished
fini for the season
golden leaves served as the
grave blanket and then

I saw the pansies.

They rode home with me
in the back seat, their colorful
petals waving in the Indian
summer breeze.

Pulling on my tight-fitting
blue garden gloves, I grabbed my
digging knife, and sat, a woman of
a certain age, on the edge of the
dirt, and dug.

It all came back. A squiggly worm
slithered out from hibernation
as did tiny serrated bugs, uprooted
by my digging knife.

With the yellow watering can
I poured a small river of water
in a deep hole, then freed
the pansies, with a masterful
twist, from their plastic

The earth, the place that
births us all, reminded me
of coconut cakes we bought at
Jewish bakeries in Cleveland.

Standing up, I gave a long stretch,
bending and holding arms aloft
in a pre-victory salute.

Victory came an hour later with
all pansies planted, their pretty
faces - blue, yellow, purple - turning
toward the sun. The moon licks
them at night and I stand in
wonder on my front porch,
my PJs shining white.

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