Congrats to Ethan - Poem: Hummingbird

Uh, er, hello there Ethan Iverson and Mark Morris.

Glad, Ethan, your Pepperland got such great reviews!

I remember Ethan was working on it on our Cruise Ship. 

Read this review in The Guardian.

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New Directions is preparing for our program on Saturday.

DR KARL RICKELS will be at the Willow Grove Giant Supermarket from 1 to 2:30 pm.

Copies of his 2011 book A SERENDIPITOUS LIFE: FROM GERMAN POW TO AMERICAN PSYCHIATRIST will be available to purchase. He fought with Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, “The Desert Fox.”

Dr. Karl Rickels is the founder of the Mood and Anxiety Disorders Section at the University of Pennsylvania. He is a professor in the department of psychiatry and the Stuart and Emily B.H. Mudd Professor of Human Behavior and Reproduction.

In 2008, he was also awarded the William Osler Patient Oriented Research Award, which recognizes outstanding achievement for research in which the investigator directly interacts with human subjects. Dr. Rickels is known throughout the world as the leading expert in the treatment of anxiety disorders.
In his 575 publications and 9 books over more than 40 years, Dr. Rickels has made so many contributions to this treatment that he is recognized as the Dean of Psychopharmacology of anxiety disorders. As a testament to his extraordinary intellect, in his 80s and 90s, he remains an active researcher.

As founder of the Penn program in the department of obstetrics and gynecology which treats and recognizes the special needs of women with mental health issues, his contributions continue to affect the lives of his many grateful patients.

HE’LL BE TAKING QUESTIONS ABOUT HIS LONG AND PRODUCTIVE LIFE!

 Gave Robin Franklin a $25 gift card. Coffee, please, I asked her.

Told her I attended a recent lecture at the Upper Moreland Library about hummingbirds. And that I'd blog about it.



Ready?

HUMMINGBIRD

You think you know me
but do you really?

Red's my favorite color
but don't expect me
to perch on your new
Red Toyota Hybrid!

My feet weren't made for
perching. Can a Chinese
princess walk on
bound feet?

Your favorite foods are
spaghetti and meatballs.
Mine are gnats, flies,
wasps, aphids, beetles,
and for dessert wiggly
wobbly spiders.

How do you walk? You
pump your arms to
gather speed.

I steer with my tail.
Shake a tail feather,
sang Ike and Tina.

Bring out your feeder.
I remember where it is.
Do not be surprised
at my manners.

I chase away all comers.
The big squawking blue jays,
your adorable little chickadees
fine furry sparrows,
I push everyone away,
like the leader of your country.

In the fall when I leave town
my belly's as big as a
lollipop. Mexico here I
come! My compadres
await.

Party time! Bring out
the treats. Save the
butterfly cocoon for
little me!

Ran outside in the rain to capture this orange poppy. Stunning!

Now that Jared Kushner is in hot water for his dealings with the Russians - nothing nefarious has been proven so far, I decided to do a little research on the Ivanka and Jared relationship.

Here's what Cosmo has to say.

It's almost tomorrow - the lovely Melania Trump - Poem: Croissants I have Known

Debut of my Floppy Poppy.  Looking on at the right is a new species of deer, found only in my neighborhood, a miniature deer.

Dunno the species of this particular poppy. And how about the color? What dyou think, Coco or Jeanne Essig?  Mon papa worked with Ms. Essig.

Melania Trump made quite a splash on her European trip.

,

Watch slide show from the Times.

Scott and I walked one of the Pennypack Trails, the one you catch near the Hunt Valley post office.

I couldn't bear going into the house until the sun began to set, so I sat outside on Scott's park bench on his front porch and watched the small world pass by.

CROISSANTS I HAVE KNOWN

Spread with cream cheese
it goes down smooth, delicate
companion of today's
many veggied omelet

Have you seen the young
Jacques Pepin prepare
his omelet? Like Raphael Nadal
come to the net for victory!

Years ago in Paris, after
looking out the window at
the rain, Sarah and I would
walk, clipety clop, into
the breakfast nook of
Hotel Joyce.

Waiting patiently, was a
chocolate croissant. I snapped
it up with siver tongs, then
ordered scrambled eggs and fruit.

Ah, me! I've left half of this
morning's croissant on the table.
covered over with that tissue paper
wrapper, soft as a bunny's ear.

Scott bought Liver at Whole Foods - Poems: House - Bare Chested Men - Meryl Streep in the Kitchen - JOHANN STRAUSS - THE LITTLE JELLY DOUGHNUT WOODS-

I nabbed a piece of calves liver from Scott for dinner. Sprinkled tarragon on the rather flavorless organ meat. To the right are my remaining matzoh balls.

Not shown is a great desert I made with coconut milk, pecans and blueberries.

Should I stuff myself, I wondered.

Oh go ahead, said the voice of Lucifer.

For lunch, I went to next door neighbor Eileen's with my huge salad and two overly salted rice cakes.

She fed me Mott's applesauce in a packet and a choice of any Italian cookie.

   Bad choice, Ruthie. It had almond flavoring, which I don't care for, but ate it like a champ.



Sarah wrote a great essay you can read here.

CLARESSA SHIELDS IS THE REAL MILLION DOLLAR BABY

Sarah followed her subject all over the world including China.

Because you follow my blog so closely, Dear Reader, you know that I was listening to the above audio in the kitchen while I cook and the darn thing began hiccupping uncontrollably during the last two terribly exciting disks.

I returned it at the libe and explained with all my might about the last two disks. Will they do anything about it?

Today I picked up the novel and read it (1) in bed, (2) on the back porch, and (3) finished it on the living room couch.

Phillip Magulies: What a spectacular ending you wrote! Bravo!

Ready for my poems?

BARE CHESTED MEN

I viewed him from the
car window while driving
home. Big-bellied, gesticulating
with a cup of America's favorite
in his hand.

I sniffed the new rain on
the asphalt and with it, attendant
worms who come out to worship
the sun

Was hoping Ted would be out. Now
there's a body beautiful,
as well-proportioned as a
pin oak tree, every leaf a perfect
specimen of Plato's ideal of beauty.

We know what we like. Two of my
elderly aunts - we'll call them
Aunt Helen and Flora - flirted
like coquettes until forced
underground.

Is their niece any different?


MERYL STREEP IS IN THE KITCHEN

Such an honor! I daren't go in.
She's reading The Enormous Radio
by the late John Cheever, a com-
plicated man, reads his son Ben.

Read read read!

What about the world
blossoming outside on this
spectacular day? The smell of
last night's rain still in the air.

In my old scuffed brown clogs
I revel in the light o day
while depositing my detritus
in the crowded compost heap.

At night it lights up, as a
fox or ground hog or fairy princess
comes in to feed.

Hope you enjoyed your breakfast
as much as I did. The cracked
brown eggs, crown the heap,
while the raisin toast awaits
in the kitchen if Meryl
hasn't eaten it all up.





JOHANN STRAUSS - THE LITTLE JELLY DOUGHNUT WOODS

(heard the other morning on WRTI-FM)

We marched through the woods,
searching for the treats
We waved to the dozens of children munching
the walls and the roof of Hansel and Gretel's
hut, now that the witch was dead.

Where are the jelly doughnuts, asked
brown-eyed Grace, looking about.

Don't worry, said Max, I'll find them,
as he stumbled on the root of a tree.

Bubby helped him up as he pointed toward
the sky.

I think it's raining, said Max, in his new
short haircut that shown like chocolate milk.

Thousands of jelly doughnuts reigned down
from the sky, wrapped in tissue paper twisting
and turning like dreidels.

Could it be?
Was it a mirage?
Were they being fooled?

Only one way to tell.
The three of us sniffed,
then took a bite.

They were real all right.
Max had powdered sugar on his nose,
Grace looked like she was wearing lipstick
and Bubby refrained. She didn't want to
spoil her appetite. Her matzoh ball soup
was waiting at home.


HOUSE

I, like a turtle, carry
my house on my back

In my pink bedroom
the night is dark

spooky almost
but my house

comforts me
it is not silent

but heaves, cracks,
a mouse died yesterday

in a trap, his brown
tail still

I carried him
sadly to the trash can

Who else lives here
A huge black spider

was it Charlotte? made
herself at home on

my kitchen ceiling
an astonishing black

like Japanese calligraphy
with a broom I caught

her, plopped her gently
on the porch steps

the stars hover above us
just as turtles await

the dawn to appear on the
waters of the Pennypack

Awake! The world will cry
and my eyes will open

to a brand new day.

The Quick and the Dead - Family in New Hope photo - Poem Gladiolas

After my walk around the block - see poem below - I was reminded of my old friend



Simon, or "Si" as he liked to be called, taught me more about the computer than any other person. I did go to his funeral but sadly he wasn't there.

His caretaker, Donald Bush, was there, as was his family. I met his former wife for the first time. As I mentioned in a previous post, she passed away earlier this year.

Simon knew I was writing a novel about him. I called him Julius. In Si's family, all the kids were named after saints.


GLADIOLAS

The only one out on my
early morning walk
was the boy/man with
knitted cap and
Buddy, his fierce-
looking German Shepherd
who was frightened
of everyone!

Bunches of rhodo-
dendron had bloomed
fat as cabbage,
blossoms of bright pink
silver white and - could
it be true - dandelion yellow?

And then I saw them.
Oh, what were they called?
I had them years ago on the
side of the house where
my peonies now bloom

Glads. Gladiolas.
He gave them to me.
The farmer I would
visit on Saturdays
and come home loaded
with onions, potatoes
and things he would
paint for me.

Like my red digging
tool. I still have it
waiting outside for a
nice day like today.
And I will remember
You, Frank. Frank Bubeck.