I thought it might be nice to write a new poem for each blog post. Was driving today when I saw a beautiful woman jogging down the avenue and I thought, It doesn't matter where you are, there's always a beautiful woman.
I jotted down the idea on a new pad I got at the Giant. Robin gave me a dozen magnetized pads.
Mostly I wanna discuss Food and Flowers in here.
I sent my new friend Terry Pointer a handpainted card. Picked up a leaf off the street, traced it, painted both sides and typed up the note.
I invited her, her son Nicky and husband Mo, over for dinner.
Rejected again. I was 99 percent sure the illustrious Connolly Foundation - who has rejected us about five times - would continue their conservative ways and not give us a chance.
The last of this great coffee. Got it when I ordered my new Chemex.
Milkweed came back from last year. It attracts monarch butterflies. Every day I go out and see how it's doing.
Hello young lovers! Mike Deming and I had just gotten married. August 13, 1970. I put this pic on FB and got tons of responses. Here's his
obituary.
I look at the obit and feel sad.
Mourning glory amongst my jungle of plants. It just shot up!
Melissa Clark of the Times made a video of an Eggplant /Chickpea Dish. So what dyou think this copy cat did?
Made my own version. On the plate are sauteed - grease-filled - eggplant pieces.
Big tomato is from REMS Auto on Davisville Road. I just walked in there and said, May I.
Barbara said, Help yerself from that there plastic bag.
The REM tomater is on the left while our garden tomater is on the right. Chop chop chop, into the large pot they go.
Mint leaves grow outdoors, a gift from Robin Franklin at the Giant, years ago. Her new three-week old grandbaby is named Taylor Michelle.
Fini. Scott thought it was delicious. He didn't eat much b/c he has his own food to finish.
**
REDEMPTION
The night of our forty-fifth wedding anniversary
I strolled around the block. You had remarried
a few years after I left, still handsome with
those dreamy blue eyes and southern twang,
you were an earnest man, just didn't
know a thing about love. In the darkness
I looked up at the heavens. The black night
still recovering from the shimmer of the
Perseid Meteor Showers. Are you up there,
I called in something of a whisper? You up
there, Mr. Deming? There was a blink in
the sky. A sailing ship, we call an airplane.
For a brief moment I allowed you were
on it, making love to a woman in the
shiny metal bathroom, the light blazing
across your faces. She moans, while
the airplane roars, Marry me, I never
met a man who knew more about
love than you.
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