Friday, September 20, 2019

Where is Dairy Queen, I asked myself. Head toward Giant Supermarket and you'll find it. Bear right. The guy behind the counter and I worked together on what I wanted and here it is

No, I don't wanna cone (waste of ingredient) but do give me vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, whole peanuts, and the famous red spoon.

I threw everything away including napkins before I drove home.

It was delicious! Nothing else will do.

This DQ closes around October 27. 






 Two years ago I would stride up the hill, but was too afraid today I wouldn't make it.
 My sister Donna wanted to buy one of those old houses on the high hill since her Hatboro condo flooded.





 Several pictures of a cut down tree. Dig them huge logs.

 This is on Ball Road.
Wrote my friend Helene Ryesky a letter today on my Michener Museum greeting cards. What was the name of the poem I wrote her?

Something about water and how we take it for granted. This is after watching a documentary on Netflix about Bill Gates.

DAIRY QUEEN

Thankfully I'm not allergic to peanuts
as I stand by my shiny car
and linger over every savory bite
a meal in one
though if the hurricane came long
or a tsunami or cyclone
we may all drown together
bubbles found in a hundred years.


Miscellenous Wonderfuls



Just found this photo on this website of jailhouse photos.

View https://bampfa.org/?te=1&nl=california-today&emc=edit_ca_20190916?campaign_id=49&instance_id=12418&segment_id=17061&user_id=109769da9367c03db63a631a4d89cec2&regi_id=55480181

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BAMPHA in Berkeley, California.

Also just heard on WRTI-FM that Cokey Roberts just died of breast cancer.

Years ago I saw her one one of my day trips.

Click here for Newseum and much more.

I visit the kids at last







I called this a sliding board, which Max said he didn't have.

He calls it a SLIDE.

My son Dan stands arms crossed at the "jungle gym" which is what I've always called it.

He picked me up at 3:30 and we went to his Roslyn Giant to pick our out dinner.

For breakfast I finished his delicious sausage, two red ripe tomatoes, some broccoli and a cold cup of coffee I buy at my Giant.

The Demings are well aware of the Spotted Lantern Fly and have a method to catching and killing them as they await the school bus.

Dan takes the lead then Max and tall slender Grace assist.

The insects live in a mass on their maple tree out front.

They use some sort of poker to shake it out.

Then the neighorhood kids assist in stomping them to death, which is the only way to make sure they're dead and don't continue living in the huge compost heaps where the garbage goes.

On the drive home, Dan n I discussed the various noxious insects that have plagued our area for dozens of years, including tics at the Pennypack Trust.

Now, it's upstairs I go, to watch more DOWNTOWN ABBEY, where I will catch up on my sleep.

Tomorrow I will hold my first CIGAR BOX writing group.




Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Huffin n Puffin up the street - Poem: The Red Timer

Scott and I just walked around the block. I thought it would be easy but remember we have a big hill.

Then I heard the unmistakable sounds:

A garage door opening via remote control?

The sounds of A Muleskinner's Blues from the Ken Burns documentary on Country Music?

The stapling by Liberty Roofing of half a dozen men atop a roof on Sleighride Road.

Here's my fantasy about dat:

I stand on the ground by the side door.

One of the helmeted men comes sliding down the roof.

I position myself 'just so' and catch him in my arms.

HE's fine but I'm not. Since I'm wearing a dress my face is bloody as are my shins, knees as well as my shoes.

Got my lab tests done this morning and drove in the sunshine to QUEST in Jenkintown. Then I requested copies to other docs.

Dr Albert Schweitzer in Africa.

Sheryl was my phlebotomist.

Fine gal, fine gal, covered from head to toe in a paper Cinderella gown.

Much construction. You must be able to SEE as you wiggle thru the orange cones.

As a treat, I ate at Dunkin Donuts.

Photos please?



Croissant with egg n cheese, hold the sausage, AND Iced coffee with a straw.

There's usually one reason I blog.

Hmmm.

I quit my volunteer job at Second Home. All last night I was feeling sad.

There's no good photo for ya.

I usually arrive at 10 am. Got there a little late and announced to everyone why I was leaving.

I felt useless, like there wasn't anything I enjoyed helping with anymore.

Said goodbye to everyone who could speak English.

When I worked at Symphony Manor I was paid $30 per session. I only worked several days a week. The checks often took 2 months to arrive.

The Manor however was an assisted living facility unlike Second Home.

My philosophy is:  Close your eyes and allow yourself to feel sad. Don't bury your feelings but allow them to surface.

We're trying to get a guest speaker in New Directions. Yoga or meditation or T'ai Chi.

PHOTOS

 My breakfast was something my late cousin - Chez Ray - would make at his restaurant in Eugene ORE. Blubberies, pecans, cinnamon and two beaten eggs.
 The Michener Museum bag is a work of art so I taped it against the wall in the kitchen.


 What will I make with this DD bag?

Have I wrin a poem yet about my timer, which is not made by Robert Lux.

MY RED TIMER

Right in the middle
A shiny silver teardrop
Reminding us of all the losses
We've endured and will endure agayne
Love, too, awaits us
Swims in backyard pools
The sight of the hummingbird
Birds squawking in the bird bath
A family photo of Mom's
90th birthday taken out on
their front lawn by Patrick

The red timer has cheeks of red
and tiny little numbers
for Baby's First Book
and You shall read it to her
in a low and whispery voice.


Sunday, September 15, 2019

Clumsy - Lunch at Mom's - Ideas for short stories

Was just outside emptying trash into the new trash can.

Lifted up the yellow top and emptied a bunch of trash inside.

What did I do to myself?

Allowed the cover to fall on my right hand.

YOW!  Ouch! Clumsy!

That's really all I wanted to say.

Gave notice at Second Home earlier today. Wrote a note to Nurse Kim.

Ate at Scott's while watching TCM.

Salad with carrots, kale and spinach, mayo.

Began watching The Fortune Cookie ... simply terrible!

But Neil Simon had a string of hits.

Scott came into the TV room and said Where's your car.

I panicked and then remembered. Someone was having a party and I couldn't squeeze into my driveway so I parked on Sleighride.

Walked over there and drove round the block.

Now my car is in its own home, my driveway on Cowbell Road.

Just remembered to continue watching on Netflix, "Unbelieveable." Fairly good. Got a great review that rape is finally being addressed.

Had a great visit at Mom's, Lynn made stuffed peppers.

Here's a stock photo online.

   She used turkey meat.

Her usual yogurt with fresh fruit,



And that spectacular Michael's Gourmet Coffee from Iris.

Ideas for stories: The Woman Who Can't Stop Eating - Carapace (about a woman at my volunteer job who seems locked in her body.

Tonight on PBS, we begin Ken Burns' new series on country music.




Coffee, el Presidente, and Poetry


Remembrances.

Click here.

If it's spring, it must be time for Lynn Levin's Poetry Class!

 Needed some supplies at the Giant, so drove over this morning. Ran into Wayne, my neighbor on Greyhorse Road, who came shopping with a friend of his who was riding in one of their wheelchairs, after a hip replacement.

Wayne did not like that idea.

He had a bunch of Snapple in his basket. I asked him what his late wife Carol liked to drink. Coke or Diet Coke, he said.

Important to always remember and honor their beloveds.

***

What kind of coffee am I drinking?

The Snickerdoodle or something like that Iris gave me years ago when they visited. It's quite tasty and will help me compose.

Image result for snickerdoodle coffee


My poem of the day on Facebook

THE LITTLE BLUE BUDDHA

Sitting outside this morning
on the stoop, the buzz of
a pollinator shattered my
reverie, arriving like a
bomb on the silky soft
egg white

One thing on my mind was
the Easter Egg Hunt on
the White House Lawn.
A tradition since the days
of Rutherford B Hayes.

Egg hunt? There was none.
But, Donny, his wife may
have said. The children
will be so disappointed.

Go back to your knitting,
Melania, no one will notice.
No one, dear Donny, but the media.

The little blue Buddha
in the front yard said
the Serenity Prayer by
Reinhold Niebuhr,
while I turned my
head skyward on this
glorious spring day
and sighed for all the
deaths coming down
for today.

IT WAS CHALLENGED by a woman on POETRY PLACE named Lin Bai. She's a Chinese poet and novelist, says Wiki, who focuses on women's issues.

My answer to her, on Poetry Place was: Lin Bal, that's not what I heard on the Charlie Rose Show last night. Also, I get the Daily Report from the White House. On the day of the Egg Hunt, there was not a single photo, only photos of past egg hunts. No matter.

***

A wet bed is an uncomfortable bed - Poem: My dad's hankies

I keep several containers of water on my bedside table - including my new lime-green large cup PLUS my all important flashlight. Was reaching for my flashlight by feel when I grabbed instead a glass water bottle, turned it over so I could flash my light on, when, psh psh psh, the water watered my bed.

Oh deary me, oh deary me.

Everything is now in the washing machine downstairs.

I spose I'll sleep on the red couch.

I am one of those people who is always sharing interesting emails with others. I titled this one: Jews get markers.

Harriet had seen it on one of her cruises.

Before I began yesterday, I wrote a Letter to the Editor of the Times Kron. It was about a walk Scott and I took on Rails to Trails.

*
Gunter David, an old friend of mine, had amazing success writing for various publications. Look, he even has a beard here in Wild River Review, which is no longer published. Good writer who left Berlin with his family as the Nazis were gaining power.

*

The first thing I thought about when I woke up today was my dad.

I still can't believe I live in this house all by myself. And I have no friends. Should I write an op-ed about that?

*

Watched RASHOMON last night on TCM. Left Scott's at 2 15 am, tottering home with my bad left leg.

*

Thanks Iris for sending me Michael's Gourmet Coffee. A gift for the Jewish New Year.

*

Schism between Beatriz's group - our group - at her home - about bed bugs - so I invited everyone over my house. We're tentatively calling the group THE CIGAR BOX, Rem knows why.

Okay, almost 5 am.

Off go the lights and out come the bugs!

MY DAD'S HANKIES

Fresh from the drying rack
they are thin as crepes
I can hold them over my mouth
in Beijing to quell the toxic
government and polluted air
always thinking of my dad
who once trumpeted as
he was slowly dying
a death by smoking.