Wednesday, June 23, 2021

My new slippers sans backs

 A thin and palely loitering lady in pink is walking up Sleighride Road.

And I am about to report a dream.

Shortly.

Mike Maccrone reports that my taxes are finished.

Had I not reminded them, I would still owe years after my untimely death.

In the dream, and excuse me while I sip thru a straw of cold V8 in a can.

YOW is that ever tasty.

My slip-on bedroom slippers arrived this morning via UPS from ZAPPOS.


As usual I was watching movies.

For breakfast I ate cornbread with berries of many types, with peanut butter on top.

In the dream I am walking around in my new slippers.

I am in an empty parking lot, goose stepping from one place to another.

It is very very difficult.

...

I finally got the July Aug issue of Atlantic Rem wanted me to read.. the bio of Boris Johnson.

Okay, Okay,

And I got Marcy's postcard. At first I thought it was a free sample of older women's diapers, but I was not so lucky.

It was Marcy's phone number.

Yes, I shall call her now.

Three hours' difference.

Then I've gotta work on a short story.

When the idea comes, do it or lose it.


This is the akuba plant in my front yard.

POEM

Behind my mottled akuba I love for the splotched paint style leaves

is a sneaky golden flower 

a killer

a serial killer

that will knock out every akuba leaf

without a sound

watch that honeysuckle do her dirty deeds.

Find more photos of Raquel Welch, born in 1940, below.

https://womenadvance.com/stories/raquel-welchs-life-pictures/






Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Ingrid Fisher died at age 81

 

Obituary

Ingrid Marie Fisher of Warminster passed away peacefully on Thursday, June 17, 2021 at her residence within Christ’s Home Retirement Community.  She was 81 years old.  She was the beloved wife of Craig Fisher, with whom she had shared 53 years of marriage.  She was born in Philadelphia, the daughter of the late Wilhelm and Else Sprinzing.

After graduating from the Lankenau School, Ingrid went on to attend the Pierce School of Business Administration (now known as Pierce College).  She was an employee of Asplundh in Willow Grove and Strawbridge and Clothier department store in Jenkintown.  Her life centered around her family and friends.  She enjoyed reading, the theater arts, and traveling.  She will be remembered for her enduring determination to persevere through any challenge that she faced throughout her lifetime.

In addition to her husband, Ingrid is survived by her son, Eric Fisher, his wife Lori and three grandsons, Tyler, Chase and Luke.  She is also survived by her sisters, Elsie Harpf and Helen Linn and her husband, Nile.

Relatives and friends are invited to her visitation on Friday, June 25th from 10-11am at Schneider Funeral Home, 431 N. York Road, Hatboro.  A private family service will immediately follow.  Her internment will then take place at George Washington Memorial Park in Plymouth Meeting.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent to Christ’s Home Retirement Community, 1 Shepherd’s Way, Warminster, PA 18974.

To send flowers to the family or plant a tree in memory of Ingrid M. Fisher, please visit our floral store.

INGRID, I remember I used to visit you and Craig at your old house on Webster Avenue in Abington, a plain old house, like one's grandparents might have lived in. 

Tonight you are sleeping under an enormous moon, a blurry moon, as if it has a lace curtain pulled over it. If only you could see it.

People nowadays don't necessarily believe in an afterlife. You and I never spoke about that. Where were our deep conversations? 

I had actually written a poem about you and Craig when you were getting ready to sell your house on Webster Avenue. You loved the poem. So did he. I mentioned his hairy chest. Both of you had a deep interest in the arts.

I see now I must write a short story about you both. Remember that moon, Ruthie, and your cornbread and berries. How bout a nice glass of cold milk?

Of course.

Did I mention my new slippers came in the mail today?

Zappos. 7 M

You had a big upright piano at home. Did you sell it to Van Jeweler?

A cool breeze enters my living room. Kyle, an exterminator, was roaming our neighborhood for hours today, trying to get customers. That's why I should close and lock my door.

So long for now, Ingie. They are getting you ready for your last performance on earth. Tomorrow.


Goodbye Ingie - that's what her sisters called her. She was 81. W

 

I have everything but Ingrid's photo.

She looked so young!

Obituary

Ingrid Marie Fisher of Warminster passed away peacefully on Thursday, June 17, 2021 at her residence within Christ’s Home Retirement Community.  She was 81 years old.  She was the beloved wife of Craig Fisher, with whom she had shared 53 years of marriage.  She was born in Philadelphia, the daughter of the late Wilhelm and Else Sprinzing.

After graduating from the Lankenau School, Ingrid went on to attend the Pierce School of Business Administration (now known as Pierce College).  She was an employee of Asplundh in Willow Grove and Strawbridge and Clothier department store in Jenkintown.  Her life centered around her family and friends.  She enjoyed reading, the theater arts, and traveling.  She will be remembered for her enduring determination to persevere through any challenge that she faced throughout her lifetime.

In addition to her husband, Ingrid is survived by her son, Eric Fisher, his wife Lori and three grandsons, Tyler, Chase and Luke.  She is also survived by her sisters, Elsie Harpf and Helen Linn and her husband, Nile.

Relatives and friends are invited to her visitation on Friday, June 25th from 10-11am at Schneider Funeral Home, 431 N. York Road, Hatboro.  A private family service will immediately follow.  Her internment will then take place at George Washington Memorial Park in Plymouth Meeting.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent to Christ’s Home Retirement Community, 1 Shepherd’s Way, Warminster, PA 18974.

To send flowers to the family or plant a tree in memory of Ingrid M. Fisher, please visit our floral store.

INGRID had fallen and used a walker. Her fondest desire was to walk alone, to throw away the walker.

I kept loads of notes on her. She used to say, :"Ruth, you can always make me laff. "

Whenever I would write about her I would call her STELLA and Craig was Stan, I think.

My delicious cornbread with fresh berries inside

 Dear Ruth, 


Throughout America, too many children still lack the support and conditions - from health care to adequate nutrition - that they require to grow and flourish.  That is simply unacceptable.

In the 21st century, every child in America should have the freedom to reach their full potential.

It's our solemn obligation to help all families ensure every child has the support they need to grow and thrive.  The promise of opportunity and freedom for America's children must be a top priority.

That's what my Five Freedoms initiative is all about.  It's a detailed plan to secure the blessings of freedom for the children of today and tomorrow.  Those freedoms include the Freedom to be Healthy, Freedom to be Economically Secure, Freedom to Learn, Freedom from Hunger, and Freedom to be Safe from Harm.


Five Freedoms Infograph

I very much agree with State Senator Robert P Casey, Jr. 

.....

t

Streutzel with fresh frozen berries inside.

I was determined to make this today tho I was missing many ingredients.

Followed package directions.

Substituted BONE BROTH for milk. In a tall saucepan I heated up butter and two eggs. BUT the eggs began to cook. STOP.

Added them to an enormous yellow bowl in which I used to mix my bread dough.

This reminded me of my mom so I felt very sad. Turned up the radio.

Now in my long glass pan, I poured in olive oil as I remembered how hard to was to get everything out the last time I made something in there, a mix I had bought at Giant for plain lemon bars. 


My cornbread with berries was a big hit.

Here that, Ma ?

Oh, la coup de grace was adding peanut butter on top of the cornbread for protein.

And that I think will do it for now.

I am drinking very cold water from the rubber udder on my fridge in my DAILY GRIND coffee cup from the Giant.

Ingrid Fisher's funeral is on Friday at Schneider's in Willow Grove. How strange, yet how normal, to write those words.


Monday, June 21, 2021

Father's Day - why not celebrate this joyful occasion

 TO OUR WRITING GROUP - Beatriz, Ken, Linda, Barbara, Rem

Relax.

Have a cup of coffee or tea.

Thank the Almighty for his/her blessings.

Look up at the cloudless blue sky and feel humble.

Each and every one of us has a precious gift of writing.

Remember, in the not to distant future, we will all meet again in person.

Love to all, Ruth Z Deming

HEY I SEE BALLOONS UP IN THE AIR 

...

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO MY SON DANIEL PAUL DEMING

I knew you as a tiny big-nosed baby born in Abington Hospital
My dad said to the relatives
He looks like he doesn't have a Jewish bone in his body.

My boy grew. Good with the girls, I made sarcastic comments that chased away
the sandwich girl, the manic depressive like his ma, and then he found who he
wanted.

Very much wanted. A lithe and slender woman named Nicole, a former Catholic,
they wed in a fine place in Bensalem, under white pillars - the photos are on my
living room wall

Her father, who made her cry, attended, but later severed his life.
My Dan created the life he wanted. A young boy Max who adores him,
a moody girl, Grace, who trusts him, and a mother, whom he will help
whenever she needs it.

Soar with the sun, my boy, soar and do well in all you do.
AWESOME MAN. 

...

I also wrote a poem about my son/law Ethan. 

FATHER'S DAY POEM FOR ETHAN ANDREW IVERSON

You opened up our world
like the golden sun up in the sky
Whatever forces led you to The Greenwold Family
I praise and celebrate them.

May your journey continue
like a monarch butterfly
soaring to its destination.

Yours is unknown.
Forever unknown.
Faith is ours.


Grace Slick - Chronic Alcoholism Kills - People Love Rock Bands

 Yep, that's me, up in the middle of the night. Only thing to do is to pad barefoot to the baffroom and listen to one Rick Fisher from Tulsa OK.

Topic perfect for me. Pelvic Floor Dysfunction. Susan Wilcox, the phyiscal therapist.

Cmon, Susan, Get to the point. 

Leaky bladder. She never discussed how to fix it, so I looked it up myself and sent myself an email.

Kegel exercises.

...

Below is a note from Rem, the Roslyn Postman. 


BTW, I can barely see as I am not wearing my reading glasses. 

Not required for employees, so long as they're vaccinated. We never enforced the mask requirement for customers.                                

     It's safe to travel now, so long as you're vaccinated. All the same, I wouldn't travel internationally--that would probably make me nervous too. I will be travelling (domestically) by plane in September.

     Finished the Richard Himmel novel and started a "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" novel, "Starship Titanic," by Terry Jones. 

    Why would I want to read that? Jones was a member of Monty Python. So far it's not as ribald as I expected, and with some decent situation humor. Unbeknownst to the people on the ship the construction amounted to an insurance scam and the ship is slowly falling apart.--Rem

     Ruth comments that she is surprised she has never read the book. They should  have prescribed it at Goddard College. 

...

Why did I look up Grace Slick? She is still alive - at 81 - but has had TERRIBLE problems with addictions. 

She has all white hair. 

Read about her on Wiki.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grace_Slick

Hope the above link works.

...

Was looking up my famous poem PEOPLE LOVE ROCK BANDS. Wrote this when I went to see Jack Cassady of HOT TUNA at the Keswick.

Entered that poem into several contests. The winner is US, both you and I. Though locating the poem would take several days.

https://ruthzdeming.blogspot.com/search?q=people+love+rock+bands

Here's a terrific blog o mine. 

Click here

...

Why did I get out of bed?

Bad dreams.

Watched on PBS something very moving about native Americans. The man suffered from substance abuse for many years. Was clean for about 18, since he's a role model for his son.

;;;;

Oh! Now I remember last night, she said, like a woman who drank 18 bottles of vodka last night.

Terry Gross of Fresh Air interviewed a Pulitzer Winner and did a very fine job. The girl's dad was incarcerated for years for two rapes. When she and dad finally met, he said, I treated them as if they were objects and not people. I had no empathy for them.

The morrow I will come back after 'naming names.'

Walter Straus - b. 1918 - dunno if he's dead or alive - did not like my poetry.

"Now here's a good poem," he said, and referred me to EVELYN.

Ah, now I remember. It's Evelyn Hope. 

Summary

The speaker of the poem is an older man sitting with the corpse of Evelyn Hope, a 16-year-old girl who has recently died. He is "thrice her age" (line 21). Even though she "had scarcely heard [his] name" (line 9), he longed for her. She was too young to have yet loved, so he never made any direct proposal and wonders whether it is now too late.

He spends much of his address praising her purity and reflecting on how their relationship as "fellow mortals" (line 24) might have made them partners under other circumstances. He assures himself that their union is not forever prohibited and believes God has merely delayed it until they meet again and he can have her.

When they rejoin, he will tell her of the many phases of life he has passed since this moment, but will also assure her that she has always been missing from his happiness. He promises to her corpse that he will always love her. He then places a leaf into her "sweet cold hand" as a secret that she will see when she reawakens with God and which will communicate to her his promise.

Analysis

Despite the profuseness of the speaker's passion in this poem, he is easily categorized as disgustingly creepy. One gets the sense that Browning, in this poem published in 1855, wanted to explore the type of unfettered control fantasy that characterizes the Duke in "My Last Duchess," but without the sophistication in language, the charm, or the dramatic irony that pulls us into the earlier poem. Though a dramatic monologue, this poem lacks dramatic stakes - one gets the sense that the speaker is not worried about being interrupted during his long wail to the corpse, which could suggest he is a powerful man, and so he is able to expound on his feelings.

The most immediate grotesqueness of the situation is its physical circumstances. The speaker has obviously lusted after this girl from afar, without having ever made an effort to introduce himself. He acknowledges that she is too young to have yet loved, but this did not deter him from having developed an attraction deep enough that he believes they are fated to meet again in the afterlife. Again, the fact that she might have "scarcely heard his name," and yet he is given the opportunity to sit for an hour with her corpse suggests that he might be a man of renown who had picked out this young girl as a future conquest.

What is perhaps creepiest about the poem, however, is his insistence on expressing his feelings in such a pronounced pure form. He does not acknowledge the inappropriateness of such an attraction, but instead assumes that her nature of "spirit, fire and dew" (line 20) has made her an appropriate match for him. When he places the leaf in her hand at the poem's end, he means it to be a symbol of something pure and perfect, entirely unaware that he is crossing lines of propriety. The dramatic irony here does not draw us in as the duke's charismatic use of language does in "My Last Duchess", but instead horrifies us more, since this speaker is doubly unaware of how grossly inappropriate his actions and long-gestating affections are.

In the end, the poem is mostly concerned with the psychology of self-delusion. As noted above, the speaker is unaware of the extent of his delusion, so that the further he goes in assuming that he and the girl are fated to be reunited, the more we see his lack of connection with reality. His insistence on understanding their relationship (or lack thereof) in terms of godliness and purity only shields what we can assume is a much baser sexual lust. Of course, he'll never realize this but instead will spend the rest of his life considering himself a martyr for having lost this young girl, which makes the point that despite its title, this poem is not about Evelyn Hope at all but instead about a powerful man's level of delusions and grotesque perversions.

...

Night-night, Little Ruthie.








Sunday, June 20, 2021

Tania Leon, 78, Cuban American Woman Wins Pulitzer for her Stride Sounding Music

 PULITZER PRIZEWINNER 19 Projects

Click above to hear the rhythmic piece. 

It is GREAT !!!

Interview below. 

Tania Leon, 78, won the prize.

Tania León, the 78-year-old Cuban-born composer, won the Pulitzer Prize in Music on Friday for her orchestral work Stride. The Pulitzer jury described the 15-minute piece as a "musical journey full of surprise, with powerful brass and rhythmic motifs that incorporate Black music traditions from the U.S. and the Caribbean into a Western orchestral fabric." The two other finalists were Place, by Ted Hearne and Data Lords by Maria Schneider, both recordings.

Stride received its world premiere by the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center Feb. 13, 2020. The music was born out of Project 19, an ambitious commissioning program where 19 women composers were chosen to write music to mark the centennial of the ratification of the 19th Amendment, which gave women the right to vote. León's inspiration was Susan B. Anthony, the women's rights activist and a prominent leader in the suffrage movement.

Reached by telephone Friday afternoon at her home in Nyack, N.Y., León said she was the first musician in her poor Havana family. Her success was a dream of her mother and, especially, her grandmother, who suspected that she was interested in music. "They created a dream and I grabbed the dream and went into the world, and here I am," León said.