Thursday, May 26, 2016

Lunch at Freda and Bernie's - Poem: My Morning Constitutional


Ugh! I hate to hear all that news about Hillary Clinton and Bill being above the law. She's back in the news again about using her Secretary of State email to send personal emails. Apparently she lied to her aides that it was okay to do it.

We said not a word about politix when I arrived for lunch in the blazing heat around 12:45. I don't like using my A/C in the car. It's a drain on the power.

When I leave home on a hot day, I wet my hair. Just wet it now having arrived home.

I had the most amazing things to eat - including chocolate cake from Costco's - injected 12 - and amazingly my sugar is normal. 110.

They always give me something to take home. Two fat hot dogs from Costco's that Scott and I will have on Memorial Day. We cook em at home and eat with baked beans.

Bernie makes his own hummus. Uses a can of garbanzo beans, garlic and other things, and grinds em up in a food processor.

Do I wanna try it? Told him I could use my 42-yo blender I bought to make Sarah's baby food.

We talked about many things, including stress. The most stressful thing I do, I said, is driving out here. I'd
forgotten to put on my driving glasses, and when I remembered, daren't look over to the passenger seat - I was speeding along - but at the light I found them and slipped em underneath my sunglasses.

Veggie plate. Marinated mushrooms, red peppers, pickles and artichokes from the Golden State of California. My friend Marcy thanked me for my postcard and is gonna make her own mushrooms for her nephew's 32nd b'day.

She's also gonna make Helene's carrot beet salad. 

Freda's eating the last of my matzoh ball soup I brought over. They liked the special ingredients I added, such as parm cheese and garlic.

Then we raved about Garlic. How many vampires have YOU fended off. For me, at least a dozen.

We drank hot cinnamon and spice tea that I'd brought them the last time I was there. While eating the soup, then the pickles and mushrooms, I began to coff. I was fine, but it worries everyone.

As I'm typing this, I'm not using my voice, but the child actor in the audio book Room, which I listen to in my car.

Oh, I must tell you that last night, before 'submitting' poems and short stories, I watched a HILARIOUS video by

Sebastian Maniscalco. I was sitting here laffing aloud.

The blue dishes were from Freda's beloved Aunt Minna, who had lovely things. 

The main dish, on the right, was Crab and Shrimp Salad.

Bernie has enuf food in the fridge to accommodate accidental company, like myself.

 Freda is a very beautiful woman of 90. That's not a baby bottle, it's her water drinker bottle.
 Chocolate cake from Costco, plus strawbs and blubberies.
She bought a gorgeous new caftan. Told me she has everything organized in case she gets sick or dies. Is not afraid to talk about these things.

 Freda has been meditating for about 27 yrs. She can go into an alpha state within a few seconds. I tried meditation for about six months but didn't find it helpful.

I can fall asleep any time I choose. Fortunately I don't have bad stress bc if I need to do something, I do it right away. Like, gotta call someone and recommend a shrink.

The A/C was on so I was nice n cool. Gotta move my fan into the living room to save $ on the A/C.

I took a brief nap on Aunt Minna's sofa in the living room. Freda tucked me in.

Then I drove home a faster way, with much less stress.

MORNING CONSTITUTIONAL

Before it climbs to
80, I don my sneakers
and saunter over to
the Kiernans to put
their green recyclable
cans and a dark one
for garbage on the little
spit of driveway and

then march down Sleighride
sweat trickling down my
back, passing dead man
Sanders' lonesome house

rounding the bend someone's
sidewalk is newly done
a striking white, block
after block of smooth
white cement, delicious
looking as coconut creme
pie, marred by a blob of
green chewing gum,
you Philistine!

You will not blow your
nose, I order myself, or
pull out a home-cut hankie
made from printed sheets that
tore

Can Hugo from the art class
see me on Greyhorse? Two empty
houses on his street he told me
at the lecture on Rails to Trails

Was it Lillian, I ask?
A lovely old lady I spent
a fortune at her estate sale
and sip tea from her Starbucks
mug, stay alive as long as
you can, Lillian, and ply
yourself with strong dark
roast wherever you are.



Hard to see, but I bot a vase in the back and filled it with pretty cardboard strips instead of fleurs that will die.

My blanket closet in the hall.

Also bought the comforter on the bottom.






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