Monday, January 27, 2020

Goodbye Ina and Yanni and Kobe Bryant

 Ina (EEna) is my mom's great helper. Yanni is her husband. He had been unemployed for several years but finally found a job in Marysville Michigan. He'll be working with Amazon.

Amazon women warriors. Don't tell Ina.

Mom was in her glory, eating and talking and reading recipes from her new and inscribed by moi

Bought it from Barnes and Nobel as I have a membership.

I give up. Tried to fix the direction of sister Lynn who brought us all a fabulous meal.

A million thanks for Lynnie!!! She also, as you may know, is one of my important readers of my short stories.

It does look a bit like a bakery below. 

Thanks for bringing this delicious cake from McCafferty's, Lynn.

Diabetic moi had three pieces. Injected a couple of times in my belly.

This cake was exceptional. I could taste NO artificial ingredients.
The Greenwold girls, as kids, would make Boston Creme Pie and other desserts. Creme puffs, Royal puddings of all sorts. Readi Whip on top.

Yanni is a huge sports fan. We discussed the terrible tragedy of Kobe Bryant's death and that of his 13-yo daughter Gianni. As a superstar, they allowed his helicopter to take off in a thick fog in California.
Luckily for me this plastic rack was still in the trash of a house sold at the very end of Cowbell. I had driven to the library to return some materials, including the truly awful audio book Swan Dance by Tanahisi Coates. Just could not bear listening to one morning sentence of it.

Kobe Bryant died in a plane crash yesterday in the dense fog with his 13-yo daughter, Gianni. They were given special treatment since he was a star.

Kobe was a real legend and an inspiration to so many others.

Read about him here.

Bryant smiling in his uniform

41 years old.

We never know when DEATH will carry us off in a Golden Train.

Saturday, January 25, 2020

Far from here, a nation/continent burns - Watched 2 great films

From the NYT - How does a nation deal with its own murder?
A koala found on Kangaroo Island in mid-January had to be put down because its feet were burned beyond recovery.B
Badly burned koala was put down as he couldn't walk.

BRUNY ISLAND, Australia — The name of the future is Australia.

These words come from it, and they may be your tomorrow: P2 masks, evacuation orders, climate refugees, ocher skies, warning sirens, ember storms, blood suns, fear, air purifiers and communities reduced to third-world camps.

Billions of dead animals and birds bloating and rotting. Hundreds of Indigenous cultural and spiritual sites damaged or destroyed by bush fires, so many black Notre Dames — the physical expression of Indigenous Australians’ spiritual connection to the land severed, a final violence after centuries of dispossession.

Everywhere there is a brittle grief, and it may be as much for what is coming as for what is gone.

The dairy farmer Farran Terlich, whose properties in the South Coast were razed in a firestorm that killed two of his friends, described the blaze as “a raging ocean.” “These communities are destroyed across the board,” he said, “and most people are running dead.”

Dead, too, is a way of life.


After we watched 2 excellent films, Scott made his lentil pasta with marinara sauce w added mushrooms.


This is a film about Racing Cars.

The red Ferrari was one of the stars.

Based on the runaway bestseller, Where'd You Go, Bernadette is an inspiring comedy about Bernadette Fox (Academy Award winner Cate Blanchett), a loving mom who becomes compelled to reconnect with her creative passions after years of sacrificing herself for her family.

Blanchett plays an architect who won a McCarthur Genius Award. 


For years nothing has worked out for her and then at the very end she gets a chance to build a science station in the Antarctic. 

Best part of the Richard Linklater film. 



Dark, dank, sense of gloom
It's not the Ark, you know,
still I couldna believe it
would ever stop.

Rivulets of fast running water
swept like melting icebergs
down our once pure street.

Tomorrow I shall awaken
to the cleansing sun
my fears forgotten.

Friday, January 24, 2020

Saying a sad goodbye to Eileen

Blue-eyed Eileen

Her son Bill works upstairs...

at Waste Management.

Mildred Avenue.


Nearly every day for two years
I'd trot across our two lawns
to lunch with my new friend Eileen.

Her son Bill had brought her up
from Florida after her movie-star-handsome
husband died of emphysema.
The man simply could not breathe.

They wouldn't let her drive. We joked
to Bill that I lent her my car and off
she went.

In fact we did drive to Mildred Avenue
where she and her family grew up. Her
dad owned a trucking company - Junod -
and we clumb up the steps to her old home
but no one was there. With my camera
I clicked the brick house where she spent
two years at home from rheumatic fever.

The family loved her and were always kind.
She and I did clay together. Polymer. Fashioned
a ship that flew up to the sky.

The family dog Daisy crept into her room
at night and slept at the foot of her bed.
Like Eileen, the dog was getting old and how
she missed him, his fealty, his warm breath
when he left home, for good.

Slowly I began to notice she repeated herself
did it matter - yes! - I wanted my friend
to keep her mind. Like one season blending
into another, nothing could be done about it.

Soon Jill Alexander showed up, a companion,
who brought joy and laughter, as Eileen could
no longer remember where the living room was
or the rest of the house, dear God.

Every time I left the house I took Eileen
in my arms for the biggest hug there ever was.
And kissed her soft puckered cheeks
soft as the sky at morning.

Will our girl ever recover from depression?


No one could be kinder than she is
Or more helpful
Once in the good ole days
She came over and we watched
Six Feet Under from the Library

We laughed together while she slept
in the Peacock Chair and I on the couch
they dragged to the garbage dump

I have just walked, panting around the block
to deliver Dante, fresh from Paradiso, yet
another post card, this time to a woman named Tree.

Let's sip our coffees together, Michael's Brownie Special
Iced coffee now, but the flavor is splendid, a word my late friend
Robert Lokoff said "No one ever uses."

Will my friend ever recover from depression?
Your guess is as good as mine.
Join me in prayer right now
and center it on that white ball
in the sky we call THE MOON.


View this disgusting piece of gibberish in your browser.

Today is Friday, Jan. 25, 2020. I told Mom to always remember the day.

Yesterday our friend Carlos Guerrero came over. He spent 6 fantastic weeks in Ecuador. They made fun of his Spanish, since he spent most of his life here.

The country is beautiful and filled with charming women. And he is certainly a charmer.


Adelaide Review publishes a few

Here is Uncle Judge, based on real people in my life, much disguised.

Was up in the middle of the night rewriting A CABIN IN THE POCONOS.

My former boyfriend Simon B had a cabin there. He would drive his huge blue Suburban up there. On the dashboard he kept some tiny pyramids - where he got them I don't know. We could never figure out if we loved one another.

As a Catholic, he taught me about St Thomas Aquinas, who I believe he thought was the greatest thinker of all time. Simon himself was brilliant but he took terrible meds which robbed him of his full brain power.

We had some good times but ultimately, after his wife divorced him, life was finished for him.


In my short story, UNCLE JUDGE, I changed the names of all the characters.

Gonna publish a new blog post right now.

Thanks for sticking with me, like Juicy Fruit, all these years.

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

A Major Purchase I Cannot Stand!!!

Oh, dear, the NYT is featuring fashion designers like Givenchy who are featuring Virginia Woolf.

The gowns are spectacular.

Damn! Everything disappeared here.

I bought a new AT and T phone at Staples. Friendly Dave sold it to me. BUT I didn't realize you've gotta stand by the phone and talk right there at the phone.

Image result for at and t cordless phones

No recriminations, Ruthie. I've just gotta get rid of it.

You stupid fool, you stupid fool, you stupid fool.


My waiter Tej asked me that as I sat down
at a table in the sun. Dust motes traveled
past our tables and I watched out the window
at the Drive-Thru at CVS.

What they'd do is pick up their plastic bags
filled with life-saving meds, then drive up a
few feet and light a cigarette.

Who could I tell? Tej, from Nepal, may have
enjoyed a Virginia Slim, as did my neighbor Charley
after dying of bad breaths, and we discussed
the weather in Katmandu.

For the life o me, I couldn't think of the word Sherpa
and the dangers they faced in the early days of Everest
before it was trendy to go up there.

In my sun-dried car I zoomed to the CVS to pick up
a bottle of generic Synthroid, levothyroxine, parked,
jogged into the store in the very same hat I bought
there weeks ago - an assemblage of feather-like appendages
that look like a topknot in Marlon Brando's Sayonara
and was so damn happy, I went next door to eat at
Mad Mex.

Why Mad? Montezuma's Revenge? That's the smokers
I saw. Mad as insane? We carry all sorts of
meds for that. To name a few, all of which I've taken,
Lithium, Lamictal, Haldol, Risperdal, Klonopin.

The real problem with the food at Mad Mex - and I made
sure there was no cilantro or avocado in the food -
is I can taste the preservatives they use.

Yuck! Ptui! Begone!

Just like my bipolar has gone unless it's
standing atop Everest shaking its booty
with gorgeous red fingernail polish,
taking its good ole time to flake off.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Got to Mom's too early in the morning - Anniv of assassination of MLK Jr.

Go down Ball Road, let most of the cars pass and then zoom up to Huntingdon Road and from there, I know how to get to Mom's.

With Ellen's permish, we made LIMA BEAN SOUP in their humongous crockpot.

I was sposed to be there at 12 noon.

I did finish A CABIN IN THE POCONOS, but few people liked it.

All I need to do is 'clean it up.'

Mom has a wonderful appetite.

The two of us ate many delicious concoctions.

Her goal was to clean up her recipe drawer.

Not easy.

I found an old tissue box, cut it to fit in the drawer, and in went her precious recipes.

Should we buy her a new one?

Why not?

When I got in my car to drive to Mom's I was never so cold in my life!

Tonight will also be cold.

Scott won't be home so who shall I snuggle up to?

The late Kent Haruf wrote a short story about dat. It caused a lotta trouble with the neighbors. All the main character wanted to do was snuggle!

Haruf was dead at 71 of lung disease.


Your journey, Dr King, is far from over
Rapacious individuals rule the world
Like a sci-fi novel barely any good folks
live up to goodness and kindness and justice

Balance will one day rule again
Your spirit will hear us singing.