Friday, January 1, 2016

2016 2016 2016 Remember dat! - Poem: When the Ball Droppeth

 Kym from our writers group stepped off a curb in the darkness and hurt her foot, hence
my postcard in which I said, Your enthusiasm has been curbed.

As we know, Mom fell on the dark driveway. A CT scan and Xray showed nuffin broken. I celebrated New Years at her house. More later.

Took photo of my purchases at the Giant which I put on FB, saying they DO customize the coupons they mail you.

Big Brother is definitely watching!

I had about 8 coupons in my hand and ran around the crowded store making sure I bought everything. It was dizzying. Was it worth saving maybe $8 to be in such consternation?

Occasionally, it's worth it.

Then I'm at the checkout register. A coupon for Bigelow Tea is in my hand.

Oh no!

Well, I bought both Constant Comment - w caffeine - and Plantation Mint - w caffeine - and am sipping on the tasty mint right now.

I threw away teas I didn't like.

Prouda ya, Ruthie, prouda ya!

Last night I finished The Green Ripper by John D MacDonald, excellent thriller!

Then I re-commenced Gold Boy, Emerald Girl for our Upper Moreland Book Group, an award winning short story collection. The first story was incredibly well-wrin and depressing. The second story was the same, so I skipped on to anudder one.

Why be miserable while reading? This story Prison is exceedingly strange - about in vitro fertilization.

I'm waiting to hear what Freda thinks of my two latest chapters of my novel. I've just killed off Wendy. She died peacefully in a symphony hall in Barcelona while she and her husband were listening to The Unanswered Question by Charles Ives.

Okay, let's go to Mom's now. She's doing much better from her fall. Wouldn't let me take a pic of her, so we'll be content with this one.

I brought over Martinelli's Sparkling Cider plus Triscuits and Cheese. They had a nice soft goat cheese which was delicious.

Mom's confined to the Family Room in the lower level of the house.

The TV is in the kitchen. Ellen turned it on for me as I wanted to hear what the Nightly News Hour had to say on the last day of 2015.

I snapped away getting the Obamas' reaction as Aretha sang.

Aretha sang A Natural Woman at a Carole King tribute. Carole wrote the song. When I lived on California Street in San Francisco, that album was on my record player when I walked in from work.

I'd locked my door, of course, but when I walked in, the record player and record had been stolen.

Got em back months later. Detective Morales.

Mom and I played memory games at our New Year's Party. Like, who was the family arsonist. She and Ellen thought he'd be dead now. Locked up for a long time. "Frank's Boy" he was known as.

Ellen did research on her laptop and found Blanche and Stanley Diener, who lived near us in Shaker. Both dead at 91 in Florida. Very intelligent people. He was the valedictorian at Cleveland Heights High School.

Their daughter Susan was a friend of mine. According to the Internet she's living in Amherst, MA.

Ellen and I noted that very few people we knew in Shaker were interested in connecting with former classmates.

Image result for hatboro fireworks

While hanging out in the Family Room, we heard Fireworks. I ran outside, then came back and said, I saw them.

I did not. It was some sort of radio tower. With my bad eyes - Ellen said it was glaucoma, I think it's just my flawed cataract operation - the Reds were flickering back n forth.

Anyway, this morning on FB, "friends of Hatboro" said they took place in Millers Field at the end of town. 

When I drove home I worried that my sugar might go low as I kept injecting for all those crackers I ate.

It was 53, so I gorged myself.
I walk around while eating so I can enjoy the food. The pear was scrumptious.

While falling asleep later and hearing my stomach speaking to me in tongues, I thought I should've eaten my glucose tabs.

This sounds like eating your boogers, but is simply chewing on, basically, a sugar cube.

Can you see the 'face' I'm making thinking of this?

Was talking to my sister Donna thother night when I was low. She said, Ruth, you're almost dead! In ten seconds you'll be gone!

I submitted the following poem to Mad Swirl but they rejected it.


Where will you be when the ball droppeth?
Will you be scrunched next to me, our
warm coats brushing one another,
in brilliantly lit-up Times Square?

Our eyes look heaven-ward as the
ball readies itself to descend, sixty
seconds that last forever
eyes as focused as – remember? –

When Mother opened Snow White
and read us to sleep, oh that
jealous Queen with the
poisoned apple

Who in the crowd is evil tonight
Not a single person, the millions
of us who touch shoes and
shoulders from Kansas City –

San Diego – Raleigh -
and seaports across the Atlantic
innocent as newborn babes who
know nothing about hatred

Sixty seconds that last a lifetime
on this once barren promontory
where hatred was once unknown
Do the grasses and trees hate?

Does the sun hate? Put aside
what you’ve watched on the
evening news, and live like you’ve
never lived before.

Believe! and the New Year
shall make you whole.
Forgiven. Loved. Mighty.
Feeding the homeless
as you exit the city.


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