Lunch at Mom's on Sunday, December 30, 2018

 Below is the outfit from Chico's that Ada and Rich bought me. Very warm and comfortable.

 Ellen, thanks for taking the picture.

 We bought food from Second Street Bar and Grill... I had Eggs Benedict, comprised of poached eggs on English muffin and a sweet sauce.

 Mom's friend Judy brought over figurines. I chose A Lavender Lady who is on my window sill.

 Over the years, Mom patched up her Royal Daulton figurines with glue.

Here's a lovely desk that Ellen will use.

One wrong move and this entire post will come tumbling down.


THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT THE MORNING SUN

Based on the Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of
Looking at a Blackbird

What's this! My eyes are blinded by the morning glare.
The sun's big as a cheese ball at a New Year's Eve soiree
No one's invited me to.

Visit the man next door who will open with great tenacity
and vigor a glass jar of sauerkraut. The morning glare
is reflected in his hazel eyes and glass door.

Stumble blindly home and give half-assed wave to the
Irishman up the street as he drives by.

Check in dining room mirror to see if I'm changed
in the twinkling of an eye from staring at the sun.

Will I go blind? Or will all go well. I look into Beatriz's
Australian Mate Tea, I've flooded with honey for flavor
and a natural cure for - not pleurisy, nor inflammation
of the bronchial tubes - but a tickle in the back
of my throat.

We cannot throw out the sun but we can water the
philodendron with Australian Mate Tea and the
desiccated orchid beside it.

One last look behooves me.
Icarus is falling, falling.
A huge waxen feather has
fallen in my front yard.

The thirteenth way of
looking at a blackbird.

***
Had I the facility to take more pictures I'd show you the delicious Tomaterkraut Soup I made this morning.

Martha of our writing group gave me all the ingredients which were waiting for the right moment for me to make them.

Scott opened the sauerkraut jar this morning.

***

Watched Watership Down on Nflix this morning, or should I say slept thru it.

Excellent, made with the help of BBC. I thought I heard the voice of Mel Brooks, but he didn't show up in the cast.

Next I'm gonna watch The Little Hours, I believe it's called. Tales from the Decameron. At home on Marlindale Road in Cleveland Heights, we had that book. Black cover with marvelous illustrations. Very very sexy.

And now if you'll excuse me, I'll think of my next brilliant move.

It's been such a Hurry-Up Morning - Poop - Tea bags and more

Brrr!

Just came inside after chasing after Mailman Dante.

At the last minute, I wrote a p'card to Martha and many others.

As the Bible says, Don't hide your lantern under a bushel.

THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT THE MORNING SUN

Based on the Wallace Stevens poem Thirteen Ways of
Looking at a Blackbird

What's this! My eyes are blinded by the morning glare.
The sun's big as a cheese ball at a New Year's Eve soiree
No one's invited me to.

Visit the man next door who will open with great tenacity
and vigor a glass jar of sauerkraut. The morning glare
is reflected in his hazel eyes and glass door.

Stumble blindly home and give half-assed wave to the
Irishman up the street as he drives by.

Check in dining room mirror to see if I'm changed
in the twinkling of an eye from staring at the sun.

Will I go blind? Or will all go well. I look into Beatriz's
Australian Mate Tea, I've flooded with honey for flavor
and a natural cure for - not pleurisy, nor inflammation
of the bronchial tubes - but a tickle in the back
of my throat.

We cannot throw out the sun but we can water the
philodendron with Australian Mate Tea and the
desiccated orchid beside it.

One last look behooves me.
Icarus is falling, falling.
A huge waxen feather has
fallen in my front yard.

The thirteenth way of
looking at a blackbird.

***
Said hello to Neighbor Patrick and his scaredy-cat dog Sydney, they got at a rescue shelter.

Sydney has three fave places where he likes to poop.

I pasted up Beatriz's tea bag on the wall, but then removed it. Flavorless.

Faherty shoe store is closed on Monday.

Here are some of the shoes featured by the Internet. Backcountry.com shoes.



Was trying to remember the name of a famous Philadelphia District Attorney, She was a guest at New Directions years ago. Her mentally ill son used to beat her. I wrote that she should have him arrested or he'll never learn.

I saved the notes she wrote me, but then I simply photographed them and filed them on my blog somewhere. My father/law Dave Sherman knew her.

Oyez oyez oyez! he said, meaning court was about to begin.

I really haven't a thing to do today. I know, I could edit the Compass but I'm too lazy.

Why doesn't he like pooping on my lawn?

Obama's List of favorite books, music, movies and other entertainment

Obama said of his annual list, “It gives me a moment to pause and reflect on the year through the books, movies, and music that I found most thought-provoking, inspiring, or just plain loved. It also gives me a chance to highlight talented authors, artists, and storytellers – some who are household names and others who you may not have heard of before.”

Like previous years, Obama’s diverse playlist spans many genres, from indie rock (Courtney Barnett’s “Need a Little Time,” Kurt Vile’s “One Trick Ponies”), country (Brandi Carlile’s “Every Time I Hear That Song,” Ashley McBryde’s “Girl Goin’ Nowhere”), hip-hop (Chance the Rapper’s “My Own Thing,” Jay Rock’s “Wow Freestyle” with Kendrick Lamar) and Africa-born artists like Fatoumata Diawara and Jupiter & Okwess.

Rolling Stone: 50 Best Songs of 2018

In addition to Cardi B’s “I Like It,” Monáe’s “Make Me Feel,” Beyonce and Jay-Z’s “Apeshit” and Prince’s resurfaced Piano & A Microphone track “Mary Don’t You Weep,” Obama’s 2018 list also recognized tracks from the Grammy-nominated artist H.E.R., J. Cole, Leon Bridges and more. Obama also recognized “one of the great jazz singers of all time” with the late Nancy Wilson’s The Great American Songbook.

Drinking coffee from Israel with honey in it for my cough

Was gonna ask Helen K the following question: Should I feel guilty about drinking coffee from Israel when a Palestinian medic was accidentally shot? She and Larry visit there.

Am making soup right now. Martha provided me with two small cans of tomatoes, chicken stock and sauerkraut. Everything but the kraut is simmering in my crock pot to last a lifetime.

Here's how I looked when I tried to open the glass jar of sauerkraut: Like an astronaut's face at lift-off:  totally shaking and quaking.

Just could not jar it open.

Should I go next door and ask Bill Adams? Catty corner to Pat Kiernan. Should I call the police?

I have these dreadful dreams. Last night I thought I must notify my support group of my phone number. The minute I did so the phone rang.

Judy from Niwot Colorado called. Much complaining. People shouldn't live beyond 80 yrs old she said. Her cat Missy was in her lap. She gets dialysis every other day for her failing kidney. Judy said that the moment a cat is born, its kidney begins to shrink.

So is Judy's brain. She is one of the most brilliant women I have ever met. She was watching C-Span. Guest was Alan Greenspan, who Judy said looked as if he were dead. Walked bent over.

Like a good therapist I am, I tried to cheer Judy up. She said she may depart the earth after her cat goes. What are you looking f.w to, I asked.

It was 3 or 4 am. I opened my door and peeked down the street. Houses all dark. A lovely crescent moon poked itself out of the dark night.

I could barely think of a thing to tell her, so I told her about my new short story called HELEN AND THE SWIMMING POOL.

More Israeli coffee please! I'm speaking to YOU, the Palestinians. I'll sit here in red couch with huge white cup Bruce, the Chinese exchange student bought me. We had such a great time.

Tai chi every morning in the back yard. A cup of hot water before breakfast. The guy was never in a hurry.

This Dunkin Donut cream cheese has a tiny taint of preservative in it.

YUCK YUCK YUCK

Asked my group where I should submit HELEN. It's too good for Mad Swirl they said. Well, I could look for new places, in fact I did this morning, but they need money to fund themselves.

New John Prine at age 80.

What? You're actually gonna listen to me?



Once we were young and handsome and the world was ours!

This is the Sunday night blues show.

What a great Hawaii Five O show I watched before Scott left for work.



This particular episode was about a fellow who got outa prison early so he could kill Dano, Danny Williams.

He put one of them terrorist vests on and locked hostages in a Hawaii Five O office. I'll tell you, Dano showed a lot of courage.

Gonna check my soup now. Smells great... cinnamon stick. Used my frozen mushrooms in one of them Cling bags.

Great song.... Candy Man, Salty Dog.

Where are ye, dammit?

EXTRA EXTRA Just remembered what I wanted to write about!

You remember when I got rid of my hopping spider. He'd trespassed into my kitchen so I grabbed a kitchen towel and after five tries, picked him up with a kitchen towel and flung him out the door.

Well, I saw another one in the downstairs bathroom.

Hoppin Spider, Jr.

Have-no-mercy me grabbed a piece of toilet paper and flushed him down.

***

Ah, Yaffe, the Palestinian has knocked on my front door.

I open the door to the dark night and faraway stars.

In his hand is a silver samovar.

"May I present, just for you," he says in an accent, his dark curls and curly beard shining in the moonlight, a cup of fresh coffee. Yes, yes, he says. We have modernized and now drink this elixar of Fatima.

I hold out Bruce's cup and he pours in the steaming coffee.

It is good, I say, It is good.

Go in peace.

Riding the Rails accepted - A couple of poems

Mad Greetings, Ruth:

Even the death of something can have beauty. Coffee, champagne, one
another, the end. It’s true madness. We can’t wait to share this with
our readers...

http://madswirl.com/short-stories/2018/12/riding-the-roads/

...and see what new madness you share this new year.

Tyler@MadSwirl

Super good news, as I had been rejected by many venues. 

RETURN TO SENDER

The ColoGuard arrived in a plain cardboard box box like porn
It sat on my red couch until I was ready to
view the directions online

No, I cried inside, it can't be this hard, it just can't be

Chances are I haven't a problem with my colon and won't need
a transectomy, a word I just made up

Mailman Dante will be here around 10 am
Take this box, please, I'll say,
and Happy Holidays, with many
easy, unstrained poops in the New Year.

ACTUALLY, it must be mailed UPS Ground. I spoke to Natasha in Madison Wisconsin.

So I drove over to Kremp Florist and mailed it back. 

https://press.barnesandnoble.com/   self publish

Just noticed this.

I write my friend Helene about once every three weeks.

MY WHITE PLASTIC DRYING RACK

Helene, I will consider this an

early birthday gift from your

days at Rydal Park. My new age

will be 73. The dish rags I sling

over the rack still fit my hands,

finger nails clipped on the back porch

so they'll blow away with the

December winds



Cloth napkins I dyed a rowdy purple

drying now as we chat, miles apart,

and of course all them socks I wear

brown, oatmeal, royal blue to protect

My diabetic toes from defeat



You and I, Helene, will never claim defeat

a friendship forever, Queen Helene.

***

A WINDY DAY AT MASONS MILL PARK

My it was cold

My it was windy

As we parked and alighted from the car

on this first day of winter, "l'hiver"

en francais



The winds blew our words away!

Half a year ago we'd lug our

folding chairs to this selfsame

park - Sunday night concerts -

where mini-Sarah and Dan

once played while I read a book

'neath cloudless blue skies



A creek rushed through the park

what a view!

Where was it going?

To wish my writer friends

A Merry Christmas and a

Happy New Year.

I SENT THIS TO FRIENDS AND RELATIVES WHO SENT ME LOVELY CARDS. 

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas - and I learned on Turner Classic Films who died this year - Barbara Harris, Send in the Clowns - Daily Vitamins

Am sipping on Starbucks now.

On Christmas Day, I sent out one of my email alerts. Twas a prayer from New Directions.

Thanks to Judy L for reviewing the below poem and adding the part about Love.

PRAYER FOR OUR PEOPLE

In the beginning when God created the Universe
Did He or She create mental illness?
Assuming the Almighty knows all,
Has He been beside us every step of the way?
Why, then, has it been so hard?
Why, then, do we often wish to take our own lives
and sometimes do?

New Directions arrived like a chariot
from the sun. It simply grew, like
wildflowers in a dark forest.

Help is at hand, it's simple.
Just ask.
The sound of the human voice pierces
the darkness, bringing peace to the
distressed.

David, Bruce, Ann. Tony. Where are you now?

Meditate. Do yoga. Ask for forgiveness
which holds us back. Call on Jehovah,
The Christ, Allah the Most High.

With Love from other people and love from ourselves
we will survive.

Wander the world in prayer. One day,
without even knowing it, you will be free.
Free as the gosling breaking from
its egg and starting life anew.

***
At ND, we have had people from the world over. A few come to mind: A gunmaker from East Germany; a woman hoping to join her husband in Honduras, a world capital of murder; Vietnam veterans; a ballerina on the run from her depression.

***
Tonight when I watched the PBS News Hour, I was introduced for the very first time to Michael Curry, the first African American bishop of the Episcopal Church. Read about him on Wiki here.

This man is a preacher! If I wasn't born a Jew, I might convert!

Watch him in action.

His new book is The Power of Love. The opposite of love, he says, is selfishness and self-interest.

Love will always win!

Thanks very much to Harriet Rellis who answered our call to do the new form to receive funding for our Verizon Bills and Comcast from Montgomery County Office of Behavioral Health.

Again, on PBS, remarkable films of 2018 were mentioned.

Here are a few: Barry Jenkins' Beale Street, based on a novel from ex-pat James Baldwin; Green Card about the relationship between a white bouncer and a black musician while touring the Jim Crow South; Roma (on Netflix);

The Rider, a cowboy film, and A Quiet Place (a post-apocolyptic horror film).

I've started about 40 Netflix films. Most are good, but forgettable. Including Bruce Springsteen on Broadway.

Last night I watched ROMA in its entirety.



Cleo, the servant, is part of the family, yet not really. Roger Ebert website gave it a top review.

I thought it was a study in the meaninglessness of existence.

Here are the vitamins I take every day:

Calcium - Magnesium - B-Complex - D

The list is so I - RZD - remember them.

What a delicious breakfast I had!

Nicole Deming made the greatest ham, so I included it with my usual egg breakfast.

When I asked her if she used cloves, she said, The Giant Supermarket added everything.

***
When I was a kid I worked with my dad at Majestic Specialties on Superior Avenue in Cleveland. He was so proud of me! I was his secretary. A bunch of 'the boys' and me would go out to lunch at a nearby dive.

That's where I discovered my love of ham.

Harold Wittes, Harvey Siegelman, Gene Hexter, Morty Shesol (still alive)

The mail just came.



How The Brain Changes During Alzheimer's Disease.

On my fridge, I have Shirley Sanders' photo on there when she was well. Early onset she has.

***
Sarah sent me great photos of my four days in Brooklyn.

Where they went is a great mystery to me.

Scuse me while I try to find them.

Sarah made my bed every nite on her comfy blue couch. I slept like a log!

 Ethan's Boston Piano, a step down from a Steinway Grand.

 Invitation to a bat mitzvah. This is my bedside table, where I kept important things. It's actually in front of me.

 Modern dining room set, their interior decorator picked out for them. They wandered around after a fire damaged everything in their apartment.

 Sarah's book-filled study. I found a Ralph Waldo Emerson book I looked at. It was so awful, I couldn't put it down, trying hard to find something good.

 Every morning my feet would creak on the floor as I passed the kitchen. Below is a Buddha-like statement on the wall opposite the kitchen.

Where does YOUR home creak? My room often does as does my upstairs office.

 Ethan's dad Sherman Iverson was a painter. He loved cars, as do I. I've got a calendar of vintage cars from REMS Auto. Was gonna mail Ethan an extra calendar but decided enough is enough.

 Sherman liked painting reflections, as does my Facebook buddy Bill Hess. But I'm no longer on Facebook. Too hard keeping up with people plus the continuing data-snatching of the a-holes in charge.

 Sarah doing yoga on the comfortable blue rug. Truthfully? When I came into my living room this morning, which is where I blog, I thought, What a colorless rug! It is.

 Here's Gordon with his pooch Alice. Gordon has two teenage daughters. Sarah rustled up some grub for us. Alice - or was it me - kept begging for more.

 Can't see the above photo.

 Here's the Japanese coach at Atlas Cops n Kids, Sarah's boxing gym.

 The boxers all practice fine etiquette. And are good sports.

 A series of pulsating notes prepare the boxers for fights.

 Here's my little girl.

 Point to where we are, I said to Say (my nickname for her).

 This is THE best Chinese restaurant I've ever eaten at. The place is huge! I sat next to the window and was freezing. When I went to the bathroom, my butt was as cold as ice. I ordered hot mushroom soup to warm me up but it took terribly long to come.

Below is the media man.

 In honor of my friends The Fleishers.

 Luis Hernandez, the roommate from.... heaven!

 Luis brought home leftovers from an Indian restaurant. Yum!!!!



Luis Aparicio, Venezuelan-born short stop of the Cleveland Indians, still alive today at 84.

Jonathan from Dominican Republic drove me home. The rain pounded down and you couldn't see the car in front of you. I kept my mouth shut and gripped the gripper in the back seat. At one point, his car slid.

You felt that, he said.

Of course I felt it, I said.

He pulled over as he was taught in his UBER class to make sure nuffin was wrong with his tires.

How bout we go slower, I said.



Au revoir Barbara Harris. Dead of lung cancer at 83.

In and out of Brooklyn - Tiny Train - Poem: Where are you Phyllis Lewy

Last year the apartment bldg had a fire. Ethan and Sarah camped out at the homes of friends. A good excuse to buy new and beautiful furniture. Sarah's friend Karina took her shopping and they bought this beautiful and comfy couch, perfect for sleeping.

It sits on a lovely blue carpet where you can do yoga. Don't look at me! I'm on vacation.

Below is Ethan's concert grand made by Boston, a step down from Steinway.

I was nice n warm and slept like a log, or like Rip van Winkel who slept 100 years.

Stuffed everything into my Steve Madden bag. Mom, said Sarah, don't forget your meds and your diabetes stuff.

Nice Scandinavian tables and chairs. Also has an extra leaf, Erickson!

Amaryllis bows her lovely head. Might she become a nun one day?

Whimsical arrangement of toothbrushes and scissors.

Enter the bathroom and pshewww! the fan goes on. Oh shut up!

Sarah's office. Filled with books.

The Barnes Foundation of refrigerators.

Every morning Sarah made me and Ethan a pot of strong coffee. Ahhhhh!

A Buddhist cloth strung up opposite the kitchen.

Ethan's late father Sherman Iverson was a painter and taught at the University of Wisconsin. Below.

Sarah, what the heck?

Below is Sarah's friend Gordon who came with his dog Alice. We ate and laffed and the dog kept begging for more.

Now we're going to Sarah's gym, Atlas cops n kids. scott's heard of it. He lifts weights in his basement. and wears a belt so he won't injure himself.

On our way to one of the restaurants owned by Marcus Samuelsson. We'll hear a band from Cuba.

this is the place where we had peking duck. sarah's friend john morrow she met at brown. he comes from a family of doctors so it wasn't surprising he became a cardiologist, but not a surgeon. he enjoys doing research. his wife works in the office of UBER. his young daughters are annabell and beatix.

he does PR for the chinese restaurant.

brooklyn has the largest chinatown in the us.

Luis Hernandez, sarah and ethan's adorable and fun roommate. what were we noshing on after we came back from hearing the cuban band? ethan was quite busy. a concert in umbria Italy, another  with drummer billy hart, who's nearly 80, and he and sarah will attend a funeral celebration in minnesota as his aunt june just died.

Jonathan, my UBER driver, pulls into my drive. His arm rests on a comfy cushion. so we're driving, we drive on the bottom level of the verazzano narrows bridge, and on the goethals bridge. How mobile we are, as the rain pours from the sky.

I'm terrified in the back seat. I do not look ahead, but feel us slide, as in, skid. Holy cow! You felt that, asked Jonathan? 

Of course, I said.

He pulled over, got outa the car, and checked all his tires. They were fine.

He said he was calm during the skid, but then really panicky afterward.

We had a great conversation on the way home. 

If it weren't so difficult writing on here, I'd tell you more. He's from the dominican republic, the other half of Haiti.

Obit in the NY Times: a mail carrier who built a tiny railroad is dead. read more here and see below.

WHERE ARE YOU PHYLLIS LEWY

You and I were friends for nearly two years.

You could write, girl, you could really write.

One of the poems was called Aunt Sarah's Hat

about a bonnet a black woman wore to church.

The damn Internet told me you died two years ago

Only 67 or 68. You were scared of riding the escalator

at the Willow Grove Mall. You did, anyway, as I watched

your slender figure flow down those magic moving

stairs, down down down into nothingness.