Dined tonight at The Giant, using a gift card. Kayla was my confidante and helper. She helped me choose a nice coffee... a medium roast with a spritz of peppermint and vanilla cream.
Since they were gonna close she gave me the last doughnut, a cruller with icing and colored jimmies. Just what a person w diabetes needs.
But I saw my friend Geri from the library who was with her two granddaughters and gave it to them. Whew!
Showed her the book I'm struggling through
The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber.
"Oh, I have that on hold," she said.
I'd told Kayla about the plot and she said it sounded good. Problem with the book is like it's wrin in slow-motion.
Way too wordy.
The author said this is his last novel. He's covered all the themes he's wanted to write about.
An old poem of mine, from when I worked at Bristol-Bensalem, will be published in Ars Medica, a very fine journal of arts and healing.
The editor, one Marilyn B, emailed me to take a look at The Night of Your 302 to make sure it was okay and she wanted a brief bio.
When I emailed her back, the 'mailer demon' came up six times.
I found her on FB, so she emailed me back using another E address.
They decide what to use in your bio. I ended with, "Sometimes, later in life, bipolar disorder vanishes, though we don't know why. Ruth is one of the lucky ones. She has had no symptoms for 33 years and takes no medication for the illness. 33 yrs is the wrong number.
Should I mention my diabetes low? 39. That's pretty low. What gave it away was I was in the kitchen, gonna test my blood sugar level and I couldn't see properly.
It's like I had a hole in the center of my vision.
39 is so g'damn low I had to keep stuffing myself....blubbery yogurt - I added peanuts - I couldn't get the top of the OJ off, and then I just kept chewing glucose tabs.
I also got something published in Kaleidoscope which pays you, if you're still alive when the issue finally comes out.
I'll be awake for another 3 to 4 hours. WRTI the jazz station has played a couple of things by The Bad Plus. They have a new album called It's Hard.
Listen here on YouTube.
Welcome to the neighborhood
Bentley, all the way up
from Puerto Rico, your fur
the color of warm argyle socks
And Osbourne, a big black dog
the kind you see in children's
books, pulling the kids
in a red wagon
Stanley has two lovely
barkers I met for the
first time today
Kiki, small black
yipper and Aubrey,
the out of tune beagle
Will I remember the
name Great Pyrenees,
spelling be damned.
Huge furry white
hoping to lure
into my bedroom,
no man or blankets
LISTENING TO THE TRAIN ON THE BACK PORCH AT MIDNIGHT
Finally, a chance to put my feet up
and relax. Sure, I had to rearrange
the screened-in back porch in the
dark, moving the winter shovels
aside, as well as the summer spades,
before I moved the white wicker love seat
from Judy Diaz before she moved
to Boulder and her little coffee
table, which is where I rested
my tired legs - I'd been
painting in the middle room -
I brought out my hot Earl
Grey Tea, and sat and sat
and sat, waiting.
I felt the coldness of my cheeks -
it was probably about 52 on the
porch - how I wished I could sleep
out there all night but would have
to drape my legs across the arms
of the sofa, and waited to learn
an eternal verity as I sat there.
Billy Collins I am not, but did
notice the bitter bareness of all
the trees in the adjoining yards.
Very tall trees listing in all
directions like tall lollipops.
A crackle outside reminded me
I was not alone. And never
would be. Would it be correct
to say, Mr Muir, that millions
of organisms - mice, deer,
skunk, voles, moles, baby
mantises germinating, shared
the neighborhood with me?
Then I heard it. The roar
of the locomotive. The
whistle was unsure of
itself. Was it, I wondered,
the real train or simply
the Lionel we had as kids.
I checked the weather and it said 62 degrees. No wonder it was so comfortable out back.
And yes, I would've slept out there.
I attended library school at the University of Texas at Austin
Mike and I lived in Married Student Housing. I sat next to a girl from Persia, Mina Gharamani or something like that, who said they slept on the roof of their homes in the hot weather.
This is not Mina but could be.
I learned that Aunt Selma and the entire family - Linda and Jack - love eating candy.
Why did that shock me so much?
I had bought some
and mailed it to them earlier today. Told them I couldn't resist the temptation and had eaten three of em myself.
When you buy them from the bins at the Giant they cost practically nothing... would you believe 59 - hey! anyone know where the 'cent' sign is?