On the CREATE CHANNEL I watched a dynasty of
divers go after
mussels.
The host was a fellow from the Hebrides, an archipelago
off the
northwest coast of Scotland.
The divers can stay underwater for
13 minutes
without getting sick or getting the bends when they come up.
I had a lucid dream. I had decided to stay
under water and
die. Why I do not know. There I was, under water, watching the
same beautiful
scenery as in the documentary.
It felt good at first but then I began
gulping air, so I
didn’t die. I was mad at myself for my lack of courage.
Last night, March 1, I stayed up late sending
off an OpEd to
Montgomery Newspapers. Ada was most helpful! I also changed the
New Directions
calendar to March.
Dreaded tasks which must be done if you're the Leader of the Free World.
This morning when I sent an email alert to members of New Directions, I
wrote this poem.
NEW WORD FOR SNOW
The Icelanders have 46 words for snow.
The Inuits, 50.
Is this really true?
We'll skip over the question
with its myriad answers
as I walked last night in a
constitution of snow
I have never met before.
Hoping not to meet it head-on
I bent my knees and walked
in the slush - it sounded like
I was shoveling with my feet
And more of this strikingly beautiful
slatrickular
slooping from the skies.
***
A woman from our support group called last night.
The problems she has with her husband and daughter are, on a scale of 1 to 10, a number 8, so they could be worse.
I must send her a card.
Dante had already been here, leaving two tax forms.
I put them in my shoebox of tax forms.
I wrote her a lovely note, saying Your OY VEY List is getting longer. I gave her some pointers of what to do, including drinking fresh squeezed blood orange juice.
Also asked her to ask GOD: Why have you chosen me above all people to bear the troubles of our Family Circus?
Scuse me. The phone just rang.
AND wish me luck as the time has come to write a short story for THE BEEHIVE.
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