Bullied as a young 'un, called stupid and illiterate,
you had dyslexia, a term unknown back then.
Revenge is not your way. Instead you opened
restaurants, fed the famous, Ken Kesey, The Grateful Dead,
not for the money, but for the fun of it, my Dear Cousin Ray.
On a video you talked about your special egg omelet.
Instead of crying, though I admit I was in despair,
I made the omelet in my copper skillet.
Sauteed in butter, I added two brown eggs,
what a sumptuous sound as each egg cr-acked,
added frozen blueberries, a touch of vanilla
and cinnamon, poured into a lovely bowl
and ate Chez Ray's omelet by the light
of the moon.
***
***
In my upstairs writing room, with the Persian rug I bought in Paris on the floor, I have a photo of Ray and his mom who we called Aunt Hy.
Her mom, Gramma Green, named her "Hyacinth" which she didn't like. So she changed it to Harriet.
Hmmm. If you didn't like your name, what would you change it to?
In a talk Ray did on You Tube, he describes her as a Bohemian. Fair enough!
On the video he describes how he got a job at the French restaurant "L'Auberge" in San Francisco. My ex-husband Mike and I ate there.
Possibly the best meal I'd ever had in my life. But since I don't remember it, I'll have to find another place with THE best meal.
And, of course, Millard G Deming, is no more. Even though we'd divorced after 5-1/2 years of marriage, I felt terrible when he passed. His mother, Margie Deming, was at his funeral.
***
Do you know what Tacrolimus is?
It's one of two of my antirejection meds and I got none left. Not a single one.
Called my nephrologist's office today and they said they'd call it in to the pharmacy.
Did they?
No. So I wrote Dr Foxhall a note on his health portal, asked that he call it in to the Giant Pharmacy, where it would cost a fortune, but he hasn't read my note.
So, my 20 readers, there may be no tomorrow for your Ruth Z Deming.
Oh! I just posted my story BIRDLAND on a huge website where it's free. Thing is, there's so many posts, my audience may not see it.
And so like the auteur of Confederacy of Dunces who did himself in bc of all the rejections, your lovely host, Ruth Z Deming, may be no more.
Shall I write a post-mortum for yours truly?
ALL SHE NEEDED WAS ONE YELLOW CAPSULE AND SHE'D STILL BE ALIVE
Her nightly snack of pretzels and peanuts couldn't save her
Nor could the Israeli Coffee she bought, smooth as the sands
on the Golan Heights
And certainly not those clanking green bracelets foraged from
the remains of the Ryesky estate, though Ryesky is very much alive.
Permission hereby granted to take all of my organs
My heart that no longer thumps with joy and those
big brown eyes of mine, hazel, really, said Dr Vu,
and take whatever you please from this house
of many rooms, all of them empty now, as the
stars shine down with total disregard.
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