Friday, January 31, 2020

On my way to Giant, pulled over and got shots of these buildings being demolished on MY Davisville Road - Also paid my taxes

 They're all doubles.

Any ideas for a short story?

 Look, I always take you into my confidence, yet you never answer me.

JoQuin, my accountant, sent me these envelopes DAYS AGO, and I let them sit there.

I was dazed due to my need to get my work into bookends review.

Told Rem there would be a new Gwen Ifill stamp and then I sent him a short story I wrote about her for Mad Swirl. Thing is it takes 6 months for Mad to read things.

Click here.

Before I attended to my Taxes, I needed to nap.

Up on YouTube came my new favorite band, RUSH. Here's Alex Lifeson singing Tom Sawyer. Of course they mentioned the death of Neal Peart. Geddy was also on.

Here are the amounts I've gotta pay


So, shortly I'll do the substraction, OR, if you have some extra gelt, send it along.


Ten envelopes are bagged into an Audubon bag
What difficulty I had signing and dating everything
The date is January 31, 2020, the day my Bookends Review work
is fini, with a handshake and a prayer.

Pray with me, o Cooper Sharp Cheese and Compari Tomato.
Pray with me, Bibb Lettuce, and marinated Mushrooms.

If he don't like Monkfish, I'm in big trouble,
but I bet he do!

Bookends Work Confirmed - Poem about Upper Moreland Library

Thanks, Jason Blum, for confirming you received my work for BOOKENDS REVIEW. He also forwarded it to the right people for each category.

Am drinking hot Wild Berry Tea now.

Took my delicious omelet w tomato, two eggs, and Cooper Sharp Cheese I bought this morning out onto my front porch.

I wished everyone good morning, as the breath rose from my mouth or nose, and delighted in this delicious omelet.

In the wee hours of the morning I goggled Why do I crave eggs.

Answer unintelligible.

Why was I in such a hurry to get to the Giant?

Possibly cuz I have a million things to do today, Friday, January 31, 2020.

I do have a history of being late.

As I lay in bed last night watching Z Great Martha Stewart Bakes - btw- she is part Polish -

Martha Helen Stewart (née KostyraPolish pronunciation: [kɔ'stɨra]; born August 3, 1941) is an American retail businesswoman, writer, television personality, former model, and convicted felon. 

Convicted felon! That's a laugh. 

I think it was Martha who made a wonderful dinner last night, which I'm making for Scott tonight.

Monkfish, which Chet told me was the poor man's lobster, salad with Bibb lettuce, marinated mushrooms, cukes and sliced peppers.

Early this morning, I met Scott in the Giant parking lot. I was a bit confused. He had on a warm hat. I told him I was going to the library to return materials. You're now allowed to drop everything in the book drop.

I think I've mentioned the following about my library... we'll make it into a poem:


Both my son Dan and I volunteered there
in the long-ago.  Booklovers are the Demings.
The library has a copy of Sarah's book

The library has changed. I love that materials
are up front when you walk inside, but when you
go to check them out, you can see all the way
through to the back.

This is indecent! Like viewing backstage
at the ballet where you see Maria Tallchief
changing for Swan Lake.

Oh, do have self respect, like you used to.
Shall I tell them or remain silent like
the clouds flowing overhead today?

Sarah Lynn Deming and husband Ethan Andrew Iverson.

Book "Gravity."

Both Scott and I read it and thought it was outstanding!

Thursday, January 30, 2020

My work for BOOKENDS REVIEW due on Jan 31, 2020

First I like to watch some You Tube presentations.

I watched the true Nuremberg Trials.

Albert Speer, Hitler's architect, was interviewed.

Albert Speer - Wikipedia

Albert Speer was the Minister of Armaments and War Production in Nazi Germany during most of World War II. A close ally of Adolf Hitler, he was convicted at the Nuremberg trials and sentenced to 20 years in prison. 

An architect by training, Speer joined the Nazi Party in 1931. His architectural skills made him increasingly prominent within the Party, and he became a member of Hitler's inner circle. Hitler instructed him to design and construct structures including the Reich Chancellery...

He died in 1981. 

He said he didn't like the architecture he created for the Third Reich b/c it was pompous and unfeeling or something like that.

He's been interviewed perhaps a hundred times. He refuses to say if what he did was good or bad as he wants the listeners to form their own opinions.



For the life o me, I couldn't figure out how to submit my work on Bookends Review. I had gone over every single piece to make sure it was the best I could do.

My sister Lynn is a trusted reader as is Rem Murphy. 


My Creative Nonfiction includes Letter to Stephen, Whatever Happened to my friend Judy? and Some Dog, about a neighborhood dog who is very ill but isn't ready yet to go to Doggie Heaven. 


My fiction included Mrs Littleton, A Cabin in the Poconos, and - I forget the title - but something like The Best Pancakes Ever. 


Poems included Red Nail Polish, Blankets, Looking out the window in the middle of the night.

Pretzels anyone? 

Fun day with Mom - Poem: In Bed with Mom - she insisted I remove my shoes tho she keeps hers on for comfort

Was sposed to be at Mom's at 11 am, yesterday, so Ellen could make her train. I got confused and was late. You must remember, I said, I always have Mom's keys on my keychain.

Am drinking some awful coffee right now in my Meghan and Harry cup, which I still use, as it's the perfect size. 

The coffee is powdered Maxwell House.

However, I've recently changed it to some Israeli Coffee I bought at Giant though I abhor what Israel is doing to Palestine.

Today I've gotta make my big push to enter poems and stories into BOOKENDS REVIEW due tomorrow.

First, though I sent out two postcards as Scott got 6 more. BUT they are all birthday cards.

We do the best we can, as my friend Randolpho is fond is saying.

Lemme peek outside to see if ... nope!

Mom knows I get very tired when I come to her house.

Trepidatiously we got me into her bed.

I suggested she get a bigger bed but that wouldn't work, it would still be a mess.

Is there a synonym I could use instead of mess?

View synonym/antonym dictionary here.

We began watching BLUE BLOODS, which was once my all-time favorite TV show.

I guess these were repeats.

Well, not necessarily.

Mom asked if I knew what the show was about.

Yes, I said, but you forget bc the commercials take so long.

Both of us did fall asleep.

Oh, I said, I see you found your blue hairbrush.

We held hands and hers were freezing!!!

She said she puts them under one of her many comforters.

I told her she should wear gloves as I do.

Mom deserves a poem, don't you think? For Bookends Review you must single space your poetry.


Same bed where she and Daddy once slept
before the catastrophe showed us, No telling
what will come along when you least
expect it.

It shattered our great life, a life of day trips
to the Cleveland Zoo, the Metropolitan Park,
to Uncle Marvin's on Sunday, and to Case Western Reserve
so Donny Garber could show us the complexities
of physics.

Dad's bookcase in the room we called THE LIBRARY
was a testament to the diversity of reading. Who knew it
back then before the disease killed the greatest man
I ever knew?

BTW, it took me about two weeks before Onkar Sharma published my short story HOSPICE. Mostly true. Read it here.

I wrote him back to say, Terrific photo.

Just sent a postcard to Specialty Floors in Roslyn, say how much I love their carpets, linoleum in kitchen and Sandy's lovely crocheted blankets.

Wednesday, January 29, 2020

You despicable glutton, You!


Simon's wife refused to eat leftovers
In later years, after he died, she
passed from too much iron in her blood,
a disease of the Irish

Leftovers are a gift on this hungry night

I walked in the dark to Stacey and Bill's
to commiserate the partial death of their mother
Eileen's mind

They sent me home with a four-pack of
Strawberry Yogurt, two of which I downed on
the Red Couch

Why then did I go to the fridge,
you glutton from the days of Chaucer and Dante,
you rapscallion with swollen belly

And take down the loaded paper plate
and eat as if I were on a picnic in
the Elvira Madigan symphony of Mozart

plopping down on the bright green grass
in a park in Vienna while youngsters
sailed boats in a man made pool

The meat pies were divine
so was the shepherd pie
with silent vegetables inside
awaiting the fork or mouth,

as I thought go ahead, they're
healthy, finish them all,
you gluttonous thing, You

Death can happen in a single pop
like Kobe and his kid, never
expecting the helicopter
to squash their plans
to rubble and debris

At Temple University I majored in psychology
and English. In the English class, we read
- was it Dante? - where gluttons roasted like
marshmallows - in hell.

This frightens me still. I never kept those books,
black cover with design upon it, Penguin books

Do we have a picture of Simon? His gluttony
was not only in his belly but his hoarding
as well.

No can find.

Monday, January 27, 2020

Goodbye Ina and Yanni and Kobe Bryant

 Ina (EEna) is my mom's great helper. Yanni is her husband. He had been unemployed for several years but finally found a job in Marysville Michigan. He'll be working with Amazon.

Amazon women warriors. Don't tell Ina.

Mom was in her glory, eating and talking and reading recipes from her new and inscribed by moi

Bought it from Barnes and Nobel as I have a membership.

Just found the receipt:  37.79 including shipping.

I give up. Tried to fix the direction of sister Lynn who brought us all a fabulous meal.

A million thanks for Lynnie!!! She also, as you may know, is one of my important readers of my short stories.

It does look a bit like a bakery below. 

Thanks for bringing this delicious cake from McCafferty's, Lynn.

Diabetic moi had three pieces. Injected a couple of times in my belly.

This cake was exceptional. I could taste NO artificial ingredients.
The Greenwold girls, as kids, would make Boston Creme Pie and other desserts. Creme puffs, Royal puddings of all sorts. Readi Whip on top.

Yanni is a huge sports fan. We discussed the terrible tragedy of Kobe Bryant's death and that of his 13-yo daughter Gianni. As a superstar, they allowed his helicopter to take off in a thick fog in California.
Luckily for me this plastic rack was still in the trash of a house sold at the very end of Cowbell. I had driven to the library to return some materials, including the truly awful audio book Swan Dance by Tanahisi Coates. Just could not bear listening to one morning sentence of it.

Kobe Bryant died in a plane crash yesterday in the dense fog with his 13-yo daughter, Gianni. They were given special treatment since he was a star.

Kobe was a real legend and an inspiration to so many others.

Read about him here.

Bryant smiling in his uniform

41 years old.

We never know when DEATH will carry us off in a Golden Train.

Saturday, January 25, 2020

Far from here, a nation/continent burns - Watched 2 great films

From the NYT - How does a nation deal with its own murder?
A koala found on Kangaroo Island in mid-January had to be put down because its feet were burned beyond recovery.B
Badly burned koala was put down as he couldn't walk.

BRUNY ISLAND, Australia — The name of the future is Australia.

These words come from it, and they may be your tomorrow: P2 masks, evacuation orders, climate refugees, ocher skies, warning sirens, ember storms, blood suns, fear, air purifiers and communities reduced to third-world camps.

Billions of dead animals and birds bloating and rotting. Hundreds of Indigenous cultural and spiritual sites damaged or destroyed by bush fires, so many black Notre Dames — the physical expression of Indigenous Australians’ spiritual connection to the land severed, a final violence after centuries of dispossession.

Everywhere there is a brittle grief, and it may be as much for what is coming as for what is gone.

The dairy farmer Farran Terlich, whose properties in the South Coast were razed in a firestorm that killed two of his friends, described the blaze as “a raging ocean.” “These communities are destroyed across the board,” he said, “and most people are running dead.”

Dead, too, is a way of life.


After we watched 2 excellent films, Scott made his lentil pasta with marinara sauce w added mushrooms.


This is a film about Racing Cars.

The red Ferrari was one of the stars.

Based on the runaway bestseller, Where'd You Go, Bernadette is an inspiring comedy about Bernadette Fox (Academy Award winner Cate Blanchett), a loving mom who becomes compelled to reconnect with her creative passions after years of sacrificing herself for her family.

Blanchett plays an architect who won a McCarthur Genius Award. 


For years nothing has worked out for her and then at the very end she gets a chance to build a science station in the Antarctic. 

Best part of the Richard Linklater film. 



Dark, dank, sense of gloom
It's not the Ark, you know,
still I couldna believe it
would ever stop.

Rivulets of fast running water
swept like melting icebergs
down our once pure street.

Tomorrow I shall awaken
to the cleansing sun
my fears forgotten.

Friday, January 24, 2020

Saying a sad goodbye to Eileen

Blue-eyed Eileen

Her son Bill works upstairs...

at Waste Management.

Mildred Avenue.


Nearly every day for two years
I'd trot across our two lawns
to lunch with my new friend Eileen.

Her son Bill had brought her up
from Florida after her movie-star-handsome
husband died of emphysema.
The man simply could not breathe.

They wouldn't let her drive. We joked
to Bill that I lent her my car and off
she went.

In fact we did drive to Mildred Avenue
where she and her family grew up. Her
dad owned a trucking company - Junod -
and we clumb up the steps to her old home
but no one was there. With my camera
I clicked the brick house where she spent
two years at home from rheumatic fever.

The family loved her and were always kind.
She and I did clay together. Polymer. Fashioned
a ship that flew up to the sky.

The family dog Daisy crept into her room
at night and slept at the foot of her bed.
Like Eileen, the dog was getting old and how
she missed him, his fealty, his warm breath
when he left home, for good.

Slowly I began to notice she repeated herself
did it matter - yes! - I wanted my friend
to keep her mind. Like one season blending
into another, nothing could be done about it.

Soon Jill Alexander showed up, a companion,
who brought joy and laughter, as Eileen could
no longer remember where the living room was
or the rest of the house, dear God.

Every time I left the house I took Eileen
in my arms for the biggest hug there ever was.
And kissed her soft puckered cheeks
soft as the sky at morning.

Will our girl ever recover from depression?


No one could be kinder than she is
Or more helpful
Once in the good ole days
She came over and we watched
Six Feet Under from the Library

We laughed together while she slept
in the Peacock Chair and I on the couch
they dragged to the garbage dump

I have just walked, panting around the block
to deliver Dante, fresh from Paradiso, yet
another post card, this time to a woman named Tree.

Let's sip our coffees together, Michael's Brownie Special
Iced coffee now, but the flavor is splendid, a word my late friend
Robert Lokoff said "No one ever uses."

Will my friend ever recover from depression?
Your guess is as good as mine.
Join me in prayer right now
and center it on that white ball
in the sky we call THE MOON.


View this disgusting piece of gibberish in your browser.

Today is Friday, Jan. 25, 2020. I told Mom to always remember the day.

Yesterday our friend Carlos Guerrero came over. He spent 6 fantastic weeks in Ecuador. They made fun of his Spanish, since he spent most of his life here.

The country is beautiful and filled with charming women. And he is certainly a charmer.


Adelaide Review publishes a few

Here is Uncle Judge, based on real people in my life, much disguised.

Was up in the middle of the night rewriting A CABIN IN THE POCONOS.

My former boyfriend Simon B had a cabin there. He would drive his huge blue Suburban up there. On the dashboard he kept some tiny pyramids - where he got them I don't know. We could never figure out if we loved one another.

As a Catholic, he taught me about St Thomas Aquinas, who I believe he thought was the greatest thinker of all time. Simon himself was brilliant but he took terrible meds which robbed him of his full brain power.

We had some good times but ultimately, after his wife divorced him, life was finished for him.


In my short story, UNCLE JUDGE, I changed the names of all the characters.

Gonna publish a new blog post right now.

Thanks for sticking with me, like Juicy Fruit, all these years.

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

A Major Purchase I Cannot Stand!!!

Oh, dear, the NYT is featuring fashion designers like Givenchy who are featuring Virginia Woolf.

The gowns are spectacular.

Damn! Everything disappeared here.

I bought a new AT and T phone at Staples. Friendly Dave sold it to me. BUT I didn't realize you've gotta stand by the phone and talk right there at the phone.

Image result for at and t cordless phones

No recriminations, Ruthie. I've just gotta get rid of it.

You stupid fool, you stupid fool, you stupid fool.


My waiter Tej asked me that as I sat down
at a table in the sun. Dust motes traveled
past our tables and I watched out the window
at the Drive-Thru at CVS.

What they'd do is pick up their plastic bags
filled with life-saving meds, then drive up a
few feet and light a cigarette.

Who could I tell? Tej, from Nepal, may have
enjoyed a Virginia Slim, as did my neighbor Charley
after dying of bad breaths, and we discussed
the weather in Katmandu.

For the life o me, I couldn't think of the word Sherpa
and the dangers they faced in the early days of Everest
before it was trendy to go up there.

In my sun-dried car I zoomed to the CVS to pick up
a bottle of generic Synthroid, levothyroxine, parked,
jogged into the store in the very same hat I bought
there weeks ago - an assemblage of feather-like appendages
that look like a topknot in Marlon Brando's Sayonara
and was so damn happy, I went next door to eat at
Mad Mex.

Why Mad? Montezuma's Revenge? That's the smokers
I saw. Mad as insane? We carry all sorts of
meds for that. To name a few, all of which I've taken,
Lithium, Lamictal, Haldol, Risperdal, Klonopin.

The real problem with the food at Mad Mex - and I made
sure there was no cilantro or avocado in the food -
is I can taste the preservatives they use.

Yuck! Ptui! Begone!

Just like my bipolar has gone unless it's
standing atop Everest shaking its booty
with gorgeous red fingernail polish,
taking its good ole time to flake off.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Got to Mom's too early in the morning - Anniv of assassination of MLK Jr.

Go down Ball Road, let most of the cars pass and then zoom up to Huntingdon Road and from there, I know how to get to Mom's.

With Ellen's permish, we made LIMA BEAN SOUP in their humongous crockpot.

I was sposed to be there at 12 noon.

I did finish A CABIN IN THE POCONOS, but few people liked it.

All I need to do is 'clean it up.'

Mom has a wonderful appetite.

The two of us ate many delicious concoctions.

Her goal was to clean up her recipe drawer.

Not easy.

I found an old tissue box, cut it to fit in the drawer, and in went her precious recipes.

Should we buy her a new one?

Why not?

When I got in my car to drive to Mom's I was never so cold in my life!

Tonight will also be cold.

Scott won't be home so who shall I snuggle up to?

The late Kent Haruf wrote a short story about dat. It caused a lotta trouble with the neighbors. All the main character wanted to do was snuggle!

Haruf was dead at 71 of lung disease.


Your journey, Dr King, is far from over
Rapacious individuals rule the world
Like a sci-fi novel barely any good folks
live up to goodness and kindness and justice

Balance will one day rule again
Your spirit will hear us singing.

Last night in bed

Robert F Kennedy Jr gave his famous Aeschulus speech on the night Martin Luther King was shot to death by a white man. He was wearing his brother JFK'S jacket that his brother was killed in.

He stood on a platform of a flatbed trailer. Sooo moving.

After looking out my window in the darkness,  I shot off a poem to neighbors Patrick and Sue.

Love it

Sent from my iPhone

On Jan 19, 2020, at 7:59 PM, ruthdeming@comcast  wrote:

Rubies from the depths of the sea

Emeralds from your ancestors in the Emerald Aisles

Diamonds from mines in South Africa

When the whistle blows, the mines cave in

People be damned, all they care about are the jewels

That lamppost is my savior on a cold dark night like tonight.

- Ruth Z Deming

Gotta be at Mom's by 10 am.

Upstairs, however, gonna work on my short story A CABIN IN THE POCONOS.

When I first wrote the word POCONOS I had no idea how to spell it. I did have certain ideas I wanted to talk about.

Off I goes.

Saturday, January 18, 2020

The beautiful snow flurries

Ah, here they come, the snow flurries, at 10:40 a.m.

I've been listening online to Winesburg, Ohio, by Sherwood Anderson. About an assortment of odd characters.

Am snuggled up here on red couch, under a warm bedspread and drinking hot Dunkin coffee to dispel the horrid taste of awful vitamins and supplements I gulp down every single morning.

Anderson in 1933

Never knew what Sherwood looked like. He had a mental breakdown and died at 64.

Me too!

Am better now, thank you.

How beautiful it is outside.

Scott went out to cash a check.

He's back.

He did an imitation of the teller asking where to put his money.


The white sky asks, Are you ready?
No matter what we're doing
she sends down her noble flakes.

You may be doing a Times crossword,
yes, some folks are that smart
or finishing your bacon and eggs
as if you're at table with
Ozzie and Harriet

Or reading about why Pope Benedict
quit his lifetime appointment.

What's that unmistakable sound?
The mailman, tromping up my steps
and depositing the worst rot of
mail you can possibly expect.

The snow is made of tiny dots like
a pointillist painter. Oh, hell, says I
and lick my fingers, wishing I still
lived with Mommy and Daddy somewhere

Thursday, January 16, 2020

Great visit at Mom's with Lynn and her son Miles! Poem: Standing out in the Wind

Before I left I ate a bowl of oatmeal and blubberries, heated up in the pilot lit oven.

I had misunderstood that Lynn would be bringing food for us to Mom's house.

Food like awesome pizza, coffee for me, and crumb cake.

Mom was in fine form chatting with Miles, tho she couldn't hear a thing.

He and his GF will take a trip to Bangkok Thailand.

Years ago Sarah went there and brought me a shiny jacket which should still be upstairs in my hall closet.

Chaser Shiny Vinyl Puffer Jacket Mine is far nicer, but I do like this. A lot.

Miles said People like pictures. Good advice Miles.

Do you think it would be terrible if I ate anudder bite of the pizza? Lynn bought these at the new McCafferty's but don't quote me.

Topics of discussion were

Studying for the Pennsylvania Bar, Beating Trump, absentee ballot, my watching on PBS

David Bushkill, nearly dying as he clumb down a sheer cliff.

Mom piped up that she knew anudder climber. Our relative Bogarad, who moved to Israel, and is a climber there.

Look! Everything has vanished from my blog!

Jupiter, please speak up.

My pleasure, says he.


Earlier today I was in bed and listened
to the howl of the wind.
I pretended a hurricane was upon us.
Went out and was bent over double
was dragged to my car and placed
my arms over the trunk
My legs were lifted high up
and winds pried my hands
off and I bumped along the street

ba bump ba bump ba bump

On my belly like a rattler
I crawled back to the red front door
and let myself in.

The house shook and shook
but stood its ground.

Image result for wizard of oz

Early Thursday Morning

According to my trusted advisors, Looking Out the Window, was a dismal failure.

Am now awaiting the completion of my omelet which for sure will leave egg on my face. I used my Lantus and my blood sugar was indeed much lower than usual. Twas quite high after riding my bike for half an hour while watching The Planets and then Amanpour - Christiane, so glad to be with you - and the racism surrounding Harry and Meghan. She was always an activist.

Lemme sip from their wedding cup I bought online.

Oh, my generous son gave me a nice wad of money. I may go online and see if the Royals have anudder cup for me.

Quelle shock I had this morning. Since I do nuffin all day I forgot it was Thursday Garbage Day.

Scott, who's sick with the flu, had dragged out the Yellow Plastic Bin. Wearing my comfy PJs, I added many items and then dragged out my regular garbage can, where food was mouldering in its own juices.

Lucky was I the trash men had not yet cometh.

This omelet is delicious. It's sitting right beside me as if it were the feral cat in the back yard.

Of COURSE it ain't, you idiot.

Do I care that Bernie Sanders said a woman could never be elected President?

I think Bernie Sanders could never be elected president.

Now they've got coalitions where they're all working together.

After I shot up with Lantus in the kitchen last night, I was afeared I might wake up 'low' or dead. So I looked around my bedroom and found where I keep my glucose tabs.


I felt immensely tall
as I walked in my PJs
to my upstairs office
which used to be Dan's
bedroom and before that
a member of the Travis Family

I'd like to repeat how swell
it felt to feel tall. For I am not.

I towered over my companions
Imagine that!
Imagine that!


Can't wait to go upstairs and read.
And then of course to fall asleep while reading.
Am I tired now?
Yes, thanks for asking.

Was Harry and Meghan's exit set in motion during the holiday season?



Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Shopping in these United States - One more sip of blood orange juice



Practice patience. Be not
in a hurry. Enjoy yourself
even if you are not.


Read ingredients.
Watch for sodium intake.
Remember you have diabetes
which could kill you,
that's for damn sure.

Wear warm grey hat with feathers
at the headdress. Okay to pretend
you're Sacajawea or Minne-haha.


First we buy our Scotch tape.
Miraculously, with my dim dim memory,
I find Staples stationery store on
Easton Road. I enter, stand still, as
if I'm having a tiny grand mal, and Bill
helps me.

12 Green Scotch Tapes, trademarked, are
fitted on pink tape dispenser. Snazzy
and useful when I send out my postcards.
Rem, you are next!


Come splashing in the rain.
Park head first so I can find car.
Forget list.
Buy blood red orange juice so as not
to catch a cold. As addictive as
heroin, tho I've never tried it,
just pot in the long-ago.

Baby spinach in the crinkly plastic
package. Dirty looking baby bellas
and oh them cheeses and the Tavern Ham.

Avoid Helen's eyes in her Chinese kiosk
as I board broccoli, cabbage, flat radishes,
olives onto a wiggly plastic container

and another one bearing fruits for dessert.

LIFE! I need a few more good years before
I bite the dust. A thousand more stories
to tell like Scheherazade.

Ode to Brenda Mower

She never knew what hit her after her husband forbad her to participate in New Directions.

Here is her obit. You'll see her lovely face.


Decades later, Brenda,
I look you up and find your
obit bringing you back to me
like a fisherman pulling up
a shiny marlin.

How you got to us is a mystery
but with a talent like yours
you must have a group of your own.

We sent you to Morris Arboretum
where you worked with a woman
delighted to help you. When I visited
I found you and your crew mopping your brows
in the Cactus Room, marveling at the beauty
of the hundreds of different orchids, some
taller than dogwoods, but it was you, Brenda,
who was the star.

Every so often a woman is born
a true leader, your curly hair,
your bright eyes, the relationship
you had with your psychiatrist,
We laughed when you
wrote about his kicking his shoe
on and off.

Oh, they sent you to the asylum,
who knows why, but that's what they do
to the brilliant and the bold and the

Your husband
Marvin, built you an addition
to your house, what did that do to your spirit?
My little nightingale, your voice could not
sing anymore.


Rem, thanks for the idea of my writing a poem. 

For breakfast I finished the box of Tomato Bisque Soup which I ate from a paper bowl. In a moment I will eat my usual and compost them. 

And down all them supplements.

And, then, Dear Readers, I shall write for Bookends Review.

Monday, January 13, 2020

Guidelines for walking in the snow - Poem for my son Dan Deming

FROM WARMINSTER TOWNSHIP, guidelines for walking in the snow

Image result for slipping in the snow

2. Walk Like a Penguin
Taking long, fast strides across an ice-covered parking lot is one of the best ways to become closely acquainted with the ground. Instead, take short steps and walk at a slower pace, just like a penguin. Not only will it help you keep your balance, it will also allow you to notice quick changes in traction and react appropriately.

3. Use Handrails
For some reason, we're sometimes reluctant to make our lives easier by using the tools around us, even when they're at arm's reach. That's true for handrails. After a summer of bounding up the steps without giving it a second thought, it doesn't always occur to us to grab hold of the rail when the steps are frozen over.
But remember, the handrail is extra precaution. That means you still have to walk up and down the stairs carefully, taking your time and planting your feet firmly on each step.

4. Step Out Safely
Use caution when exiting and entering your vehicle. Stepping out of the vehicle can mean hitting the ground at an awkward angle and getting to our vehicle can make us put our guard down. So, step in and out carefully, and even grab onto the door handle or the vehicle itself for extra support.

5. Watch Out for Black Ice
So, you drove to work in the morning and find that the parking lot is free of snow. Before you jump out of the car and waltz carelessly to the building, remember that you might come across the dreaded black ice.
After water snow or ice melts, it can refreeze into black ice, a thin, slippery layer of ice that is difficult to see but easy to fall on.

6. Don't Overload Yourself
Need to carry something to or from your car? Now's not the time to be a hero and load yourself up with as much as you can carry so that you can bring it all in one trip. And we can guarantee that no one will be impressed with your efficiency if you – and everything you're carrying – falls to the ground.
Only take what you can comfortably carry without obstructing your view. Try to keep at least one arm and hand free; you'll be amazed at how much easier it will be to maintain your balance.

7. Don't Create a Hazard Indoors
Slip and fall safety doesn't end once you walk into the door. Make sure you remove as much snow and water from your boots or shoes as possible. If you have dry shoes to change into, do it as soon as you can do so safely (standing in everyone's way is ill-advised). Otherwise, you could leave a wet prints or snowy, slushy patches for others to slip on.

8. If It's Dangerous to Walk On, It's Dangerous to Drive On
The slippery surface you must walk across is likely to be similar to the surface you have to drive on. Take your time – extra, if you need to – and remember that the speed limit is just that: a limit. Drive below it if you need to.
And remember that the road is slippery for everyone else, too. Give yourself enough distance from other vehicles, in case they have difficulty braking.



Right on the dot
he picked me up in
Blue Car.

Where would we go?
The Four Seasons on the Main Line?
Brazilian Steakhouse in Center City?
Simply Ming's for the best in Chinese
or Lidia's for original Italiano with
plenty of olive oil and parmisano cheese?

Like me, Dan is a humble man and led me to
a Falafal Joint in the nearby Willow Grove Mall

And we talked and we talked and we talked.
He wanted to know all about me. Me? His mother.
Where had I been. And where was he at the time.

A brief hagiography
Camp Lejeune North Carolina
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Shaker Heights, Ohio

Loretta Court in Englewood Cliffs N J
And then wanderlust struck and I sojourned
to California, Big Sur with the silver and blue surf
L'Auberge where Chez Ray fed me and his dad
Juneau, Alaska

And some Mediterranean cruises with his sister who
wrote "Gravity," which Dan loved.

And I love Dan. Generous. Humerous. And a fine driver
with a couple of close ones.

Sunday, January 12, 2020

On Sunday, we watch T C M

Scott and I were both exhausted so we slept through the film that Eddie Mueller described. This was the age of McCarthyism - communists infiltrated our country - so the authors of the film were never credited until later, after they escaped to England.

One man was Joseph Losey. Here's a list of his films, which are now on my Wish List.

Joseph Losey 1965.jpg

He barely escaped being caught - a story all its own.

I had to leave for Sundays with Mom and couldn't watch the end of film with Joan Crawford. Her face had been ruined in a fire, but a surgeon finally fixed it after 12 surgeries.

Crawford fought for the role from Louis B Mayer. He threw up his hands and said, Okay, if you wanna ruin your career, don't blame me.

In 20 minutes the film HOWARD'S END will be on PBS. I can't wait to watch.


At Mom's, Lynn introduced us to AFFIRMATIONS. They won't print out, but here's what they say:


Poem for Walter Straus

Scott, have a good evening at the salt mines, as he calls his job at SEPTA.

Years ago, Walter Straus gave me this 'lantern' in case of Lights Out.

The battery got all yucky, so Scott and I threw it out.

We have no idea what happened to Walt, if he's dead or alive. Born in 1918.

What a history he has.

Will someone write his obit if he's dead?


Walter and I met at the Willow Grove Staples
where he was buying a Scrabble dictionary.
He wanted to know if 'dipshit' was a word
he could use, dipshit as in idiot, but with
much more oomph.

I always loved Walter as a friend. He told me
about his three marriages, the suicide by plastic
bag of his favorite wife, who described him as
my moon, my stars and constellations, but her
diabetes was as painful as a double amputation
in the Civil War, with whiskey as a painkiller.

I'd visit him in his Regency Towers apartment
where he welcomed me with a glass of cranberry juice
a yogurt compote with fresh fruit, and readings
he produced from his walls of books.

Intelligent, debonair, refined, and always
attracted to members of the fair sex, I wish you
well, Walter Straus, wher-ere you are.