Sunday, December 4, 2016

The exciting Penelope Project - Dinner at the Demings - Poem: Aqua

Ruth Deming, have you no shame?

Was vacuuming under my bed when this piece of paper came up.

It's a shopping list in a female hand. On the other side of this paper is her husband's name. Jewish, of course. Who else would eat lox?

Oh, YOU would! Good for you. Buy the Nova. Less salty.

Just finished watching the Penelope Project on Channel 12.3.  About a nursing home in Wisconsin - those broad and lazy drawls speaking of innocence and kindness - then called Ada and Rich, whose Lillian Mom  is in her own nursing home, her brain closing down - and they checked their TV and couldn't find it, couldn't find it.... and then did.

They have cable. I do not.

Photo please!

Image result for the penelope project   Originally published Oct 2015.

While watching Penelope, I downed one-third of a bag of pretzels, then rode bike to nowhere, and my sugar was a - hey, let's establish a new rating scale.

Moderately whopping

Mine was a moderately whopping, in the low 200s.

Pix from dinner at the Demings

 Bubby, how dyou like my trains? He knew how many cars there were. An ambulance is in the cave in the back. YOU figger that one out.
 Well, at least he doesn't have a big belly. Hold on and lemme check mine. Moderately whopping. In the book I'm listening to, one of the characters in this Nazi era book, regularly gets whopped by a man with a hairy apron of a belly.
Max got a new app.

 Grace checked out the book Additives from the skl library. People have always added additives to their food and drink to keep em preserved.
 Delicious spaghetti squash with mushrooms and sausage. Menorah in back with leftover wax in its ears.
Clock that was Tom's. Reason I took foto is bc in a short story I just submitted - Me and the Ole Man - Luke had a clock like this, but filled with

Image result for hummel tyrolian boy      Hummels. 

 We're five people in the kitchen, I said, each one doing their own thang.
 Max was asleep on the couch, his legs crossed like when an adult sits.

The below poem didn't come out like I meant. So I'll work on anudder one. 


Tottering in coffee intoxication
I walked down the runway
of my upstairs hall

Are you old enough to
remember Beth Myerson, the first
Jewish Miss America

Years ago my Aunt Tay
the template for Shakespeare's
Taming of the Shrew

Forgot herself and called
me pretty.

I sipped on the hot strong
bitter Starbucks, until I thought I'd fall
off the chair in
my writing room.

The soul of Miss Woolf was nowhere to be

Get up, I commanded myself and go
to bed!

The aqua color of the
walls hurtled into
my eyes


A thousand symphonies
roared from my walls
my head throbbing in

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