Saturday, February 22, 2014

The Coffeeshop Quartet - I follow the teachings of Mary Ann Moylan - Poem: Shopping Before the Ice Storm

Yep, eating my nut mix now. Dessert.

Saw Mary Ann Moylen, the Giant nutritionist, and asked her a question. Our guest speaker thother nite, Wendy R, told me that the frozen blubberies I put in my salad, were not as fresh as the real live ones.

I was pretty sure Wendy was wrong and Mary Ann confirmed it. They're frozen very quickly and retain their nutrients. Kay Redfield Jamison is a big proponent of blubberies. Let's see how she's doing. Well-wrin account of THE most influential woman on manic depressive illness, which she has.

I asked Mary Ann

about my NEW evening snack.

Is this healthy, I asked.

Celery and cream cheese w chives n onions. I know it's salty, I said.

It IS healthy, she said, but you need to combine it w a protein.

Okay, I said, how bout a scoop of peanut butter?

Perfect, she said.

Isn't your mouth watering now? OH, DO TELL! You're allergic to peanuts and would choke if you ate it.

So, I brewed some hazelnut coffee this morning in my new $5 coffeepot.

Beautiful, isn't it!

Dmitri plugged it in yesterday when I bot it and the light went on. Here's what happened when I brewed the coffee, which I find as inexplicable as what makes the universe run.

Altho there were plenty of coffee grounds, the 'coffee' was the color of water AND it was not hot. It was room temperature. I cleaned it up, put it in my car, and returned it to the A to Z Thrift Shop, near the PO on York Road in Hatboro,

Ilona Igolkin gave me my money back, as I knew she would.

Scuse me a moment, I'm gonna like the store on FB.

 Hatboro, PA. There's my printer's office, Bux-Mont Stationers.The Compass may be all printed up by next Friday.

Beatriz wrote her first book review on Amazon.com. Short n sweet and informative. If I were ambitious I'd load the review right here. Let's see if I am. It's 7:49 pm. B hasn't loaded it yet.

I've done lotsa reviews myself. Try it!

Beatriz was kind enuf to print out my poem Death and the Bedroom (needs revising). Moments before, I'd printed out about 25 pages of other things.

Suddenly, the smart-aleck printer is telling me "You're out of black ink." I'd bought new ink - the generic brand from Officemax - about a month ago.

Tonite, Scott said, Go buy new ink.

I raced down to Staples - can't see to drive in the dark due to my cataracts - but did just fine. With nervous fingers, I changed the cartridge - and lo! - it prints. No way I can live w/o my printer, which,as an object, is equivalent to a vital organ.

Martha wrote a short story about a marriage gone wrong. She emphasized it was not based on her own marriage. I think it takes guts to write well about bad things, esp. a marriage, when your own is so good.

Well-done, Martha!

All of us are still jockeying to get our best work into the Montgomery County Community College Writers' Contest, postmark deadline Feb. 28.

One year, Scott and I drove all the way down there to submit my work. It's a long way and cold as hell when you get outa the car and get into the everpresent wind-tunnel to find Parkhouse Building. Hey! I remembered the name.

There you are, Carly, holding up your "punch needlework" of two jolly snowmen.

Altho Carly is a beauty today - yes, you are, Darlin' - she and husband Charlie wanna lose weight. They see a hypnotist


who told them to bring in photos of when they were younger and slimmer.

You should have seen that gorgeous couple!

Carlana told us about the evolution of the piece she brought in.

First, she was gonna write about SILENCE - a wonderful topic - but then decided to write about WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF WE QUIT OVER-SCHEDULING OUR CHILDREN.

Well-done, Carlana!

Okay, next victim!



Mary Brucker, accompanied by her guide dog Garland, read two wonderful poems. One, written a decade ago, was about being on the beach in the wee hours of the night. She was both thrilled to be there and frightened. But, then, the call of nature had her leaving, and finding her way to the railing.

The second was how humans are destroying our beautiful highly evolved animals such as the Siberian Tiger - aka Amur tiger -



not to mention the



glorious gorilla!

Attention People! What IS the matter with you! God created the heavens and the earth AND you have no respect for his creations.


The EIGHTH PSALM


When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

 4 what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?
 5 You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honour.
 6 You made him ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under his feet:
 7 all flocks and herds, and the beasts of the field,
 8 the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.


Best poetry ever written, those psalms.

VISITED Mom and Ellen after the Group. We talked about how therapist Sharon Katz helped one of mom's friends.  

Mom was making her delicious pea soup. She and Ellen have an agreement: Mom can't cook until Ellen is home. Ever heard of the essay, Dissertation Upon a Roast Pig? by Charles Lamb.

By burning down the house, it was discovered how delicious roast pig was.

Byberry Road was mobbed as I inched toward Mom's house.

Here's some pix I took:

 Stopped in the Hatboro PO so I could check the New Directions' Box 181 and throw away an ad from Comcast.
 Nice Mediterranean-style house on Byberry Road. Different! But, living on Byberry? With all the fumes!
 One of the big houses on my way home. Click to enlarge. Took the back roads home, which were pockmarked with deep pits.  




SHOPPING BEFORE THE ICE STORM

I, too, am prone to panic
loading up my cart with
nothing essential, Goya
artichokes bathed in
greasy olive oil.

Departing, the electric eye
shoots me an impassive, nosy
glance, as I exit into the vast
parking lot and inhale the
smell of cigarettes and
long lonely nights.

At home, I step out of my
car, groceries slung across
one arm, pocketbook on
the other
Lean against the car,
leg hurting from sciatica
come back
and stare silently, breath
rising in smoke rings
drop my bags on the driveway
and walk down Cowbell, marveling,
like van Gogh in Arles,
at the starry night.

Have you ever eaten artichokes
while walking down the street
bundled up like a Russian?
This is your life and you
must try all things.
Promise me.
Take up my dare.
Soup or a chocolate bar
will do.

2 comments:

  1. Always a poem in everything you do, everywhere you go, everything you see and I love how you make the mundane and routine interesting and shiny for me, and for us. So when I go to the store to stock up, now I will think of you and of your poem. I also admire your energy to keep submitting your work to contents and other places. I seem to not find that most of the time, but occasionally will. Good luck with your most recent submissions.

    Not happy to hear your sciata is bothering you again but always happy to read the snippets and snapshots of your world, because it is interesting, often funny, sometimes sad, often wise.

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  2. thanks for checking in, Iris! wish you could join our writing group - telepathy?

    ReplyDelete