Thursday, November 19, 2015

A Day of Action and A Day of Rest - New poem: Happy Thanksgiving

Wild2014Poster.jpg  Just got home from watching Wild with Reese Witherspoon, who has a very flexible body, and played Cheryl Strayed who - from Wiki -

leaves Minneapolis, Minnesota, to hike 1,100 miles of the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail[6] on a journey of self-discovery and healing.

I'd give the movie a C+

There were only about 8 people in the audience. I didn't have time to eat a proper lunch and I knew there would be p/c there so I had three bowls of delicious salted popcorn.

Sure enuf when I got home my sugar was 198, so I went upstairs, set me timer for 20 mins and rode my black steed while finishing

Image result for creatures of a day yalom   

He quotes Marcus Aurelius and in fact the book title is from a work of this philosopher/Roman emperor who lived between 121 and 180.

Yalom finished the book with this quote

Pass, then, through this little space of time in harmony and end thy journey in contentment, just as an olive falls off is ripe, blessing nature who produced it, and thanking the true on which it grew.

The book is not yet finished. There's more to read as I pedal swiftly, going nowhere, but advancing in my book.

He's got an Afterword - oops! I almost said "Afterlife" - neither Irv nor I believe in one - and then he's got Acknowledgments. His son, Ben Yalom, edited the book, as did his wife, Marilyn, his toughest critic.

 Woke up, It Was a Chelsea Morning. Remember that song? It just popped into my noodle. Practically ran outa the house. Wanted to get loads of groceries and pick up Scott at the 8:22 a m train.

My goal was a hot veggie soup today.
 Bought this medium-sized coffee from Kathy. She gets up at 4:30 a m, which she doesn't like. Pollyanna me said You've got a good job and people like you! You make people happy.

Was gonna write a blog post called "My Social Hour at the Giant." I know so many people who work there and love to chat briefly with them.

This soup is totally finished now. The only seasoning is a cinnamon stick. Turmeric, where art thou?

While making the soup, I listened to the excellent

Image result for 12th imam bookJust learned this is the first book in a trilogy. Let's see who this Joel C Rosenberg is. Click here. You'd think he's Jewish but he's not. Very interesting man.

Bella Online Lit Journal emailed their writers saying a new issue will come out. Get your work in, said the editor.

I had to look up all the stories and poems she's rejected and submit new ones. I knew I would write a new poem.... great opportunity!

Goal was to submit em all before I went to the movies. In fact, Katie was just closing the door movie door when I got there.

To submit to Bella, she has you type your work into a space, single-file. This means you must re-type your work. Bit of trouble, Lisa, but hey we don't mind just so's you accept Curlicues, Ye Olde Revival Tent and Happy Thanksgiving, which thankfully Martha liked.

While cooking, I talked to Mom, who was resting in bed. Ellen went to the foot doctor. I like to engage Mom in experiences in the past. Some of your aunts, I said, had "hammer toes."

Aunt Ruthie, she said.

Image result for hammer toes
Mom was telling me all the people in the family she's worried about. She called Sarah to see if Ethan was in Paris - Sarah said don't worry so much, Gram - then she had Alex had been in Iceland and then traveled to Germany to meet his Nazi girlfriend. Just kidding, of course.

I mentioned Ada's 105-yo mother and Mom immediately said kona hora.

Don't say that I said. She's got no mind.

Does she know them?

Yes, I said.

My mom feels guilty for everything.

I told her Ada's mom eats ice cream every night before bed.

Mom said they have Breyer's Van, Choc, Strawberry.

Neopolitan, I shouted out. Can't believe I remembered the name.

Here's the soup with Colby Jack for protein.

Colby Jack was quite a cowboy in the Old West. I'm joshin' you here, Readers.


I don’t care much what other folks
think, but at my age – pushing
seven-oh, I still can’t believe

I own my own house and my own car.
Yawning, though engaged, during the
film Age of Adaline, my mind jumped

ship to that favorite thought. I – see
me jumping up and down? – own my
own house and my own car.

Own! The sweetest song in
America. Listen to its verses
Property owner. Homeowner.

Homeowner’s insurance. Buy
both car and home for a
“buyer’s discount.” I am doing

cartwheels on the carpeted floor.
Though I speak with the royal “we”
I live alone. Solicitor’s come by.

Before we slam the door in their faces – a red door
I painted myself – I put them through
paces. A black guy named Dwayne

sat on the red couch and listened to
my poetry. Two Jehovah’s Witnesses
dressed in black, heard a tirade about

The God of Israel. Sammy put in the
storm window on my side door. Please,
dear God, I pray, let me not think

who will live here when I’m gone.
Roasted, while dead, like next week’s
Thanksgiving turkey.

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