Medicare mandated I go to CVS to fill my prescriptions. Huge waiting lines at the Fitzwatertown Moreland CVS. Shall I bring a book?
Decided to keep Roald Dahl's Omnibus, perfect bedtime stories for sleepless nights. Brought it to the library to read there and decide if I should continue reading.
Yes!
Also checked out an Ursula Andress, oops, I mean Ursula K Leguin book that contains Left Hand of Darkness. I will begin it tonight.
So, the first time I go to the CVS, I have six items to mail in my car.
No mailman in sight but you never know....and there he is!
Have I told you this story before? Bear with me, as my old friend Felicia Kelly used to say at the Record.
After I huffed out of the store, they wanted to charge me about $600 - true - for my first payment - a deductible - AND they were correct - I saw the mailman across the street. I blinked my eyes to make sure he was a mailman and not a long distance walker.
Grabbed me mail and stood at the four-lane highway waiting to make a dash for it.
Done!
You know, those bastards actually tried to run me over.
We do like photos, don't we, so hold on, and I'll give you photos.
Was at Mom's today and even Ellen liked the idea of the story.
Guess what! I just succeeded in loading Summoned. Whew!
Mom was sitting in bed going through her papers! Ellen went out for Starbucks. I had a small one that Mom and I shared. At first it was too bitter, but it grows on you.
Ellen, a master with the Internet, said that certain kinds of coffee had the best antioxidants in them.
Mom said she read you're not supposed to drink coffee.
"You say potato, I say pototoe" all day long.
This is what it's like being at Mom's.
Crazy-making by Virginia Satir, I believe. Look it up! We studied this in grad school at Hahnemann.
I just looked her up. Click here.
In the above video, a little boy is being physically hurt by his mother.
How can I stop this with someone in my own family?
Finally, I left and went to the library before it closed. I love to pack in a lotta stuff in one day.
The founder of Ikea just died. Read his obit in the NY Times. Eccentricity incarnate.
IKEA
Would anyone want it
after I pass?
Get one of those
green Dumpsters
and pop it inside.
It's as sturdy as
an old war horse.
A remnant of the
Tooheys. Sean,
then Nicole and Dan.
What about my white shelf?
Bought it new at the
Conshohocken enclave.
A prison devoid of
light. And look at me
trying out all the sofas.
Yes, ma'am, we'll take
the white shelves, as I
handed her my card.
Not Ace Spade or Joker,
just a simple piece of
plastic that now rules
our world.
ONLY 37 minutes before pizza, not that I'm counting. Scott made a cauliflower crust. Fab!
THE MOON AND I
You must always look up
when you disappear into
the dark night as I
did just now
The moon was straight overhead
with a piece bitten off
like a child being caught
in the cookie jar
The tea kettle just
whistled. A universal
sound from Norway to
Ukraine to Willow Grove.
Hotness is what's
needed now. I warm
my hands and prepare
to take a sip.
Just plain water
like I drank today
at our writer's group.
All seats filled
Bonnie Raitt
intoning about her
biological clock.
Another whistle
goes off. Scott's
train. The man's
gotta work tonight.
Tomorrow he gives
a seminar to two
friends on
how to eat right.
"Would I lie to
my Ruthie," he
says after
kissing me goodbye.
***
So many writers have come and gone. Betty MacDonald was one of them. She wrote a memoir called The Egg and I, which I thought of when I wrote The Moon and I.
Take a look at the adorable cover. I'm not permitted to.
More poems from FB
BLESSINGS
in honor of Coach Iris
Once there was nothing like
these cold winter months,
when I'd walk up the street,
stew pot in my gloved hands
and ring his bell.
He lived alone with his
drunkard son, as nice as a
guy can be, who drinks from
morning til night. Waiting
just waiting for Jesus.
Luther and I became friends.
He of the big pot belly
checkered shirt and collection
of Hummels, his late wife
so loved.
We'd eat together in the
kitchen. "Sure is good," he'd say
in his southern drawl. "One bowl's
enough for me."
And then came the coffee.
Folger's from the red can.
He made it strong and I'd
have two heavenly cups.
He'd walk me to the door
where I'd feel like the
missus of the house
and walk back home.
THE JOY OF READING
A PAPERBACK
Pere Goriot, The Waves,
Mrs Dalloway, The Catcher
in the Rye, Nine Short
Stories including
The Bananafish.
And now this new one
Conclave about choosing
a new pope.
The morning sun
shines on each
fresh page with the
perfectly readable
fonts, the strong
binding, and the
words we always look for:
Made in America.
Much of my life,
is bound in
paperbacks. Once
walking around the block
a woman with a "For Sale"
sign in front of her house
handed me a Clive Cussler.
It's on a pile as high as
The Seven Storey Mountain
awaiting its turn.
***
Am reading a new Dean Koontz book, scary as hell. Lots of nightmares. It's damn good, though. Lotta surprises, which we love.
Read about him here in Wiki and then I'm off!He's born in 1945, same year as me. Maybe I still have time to get a novel published.
Wish me luck, Pope Francis!!!
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