Contagious! Writing Poems - Ode to my Dryer - Yes, Facebook, Please! - Happy 76th Anniversary Mom and Dad

Ask me why I don't post pictures?

Gotta go thru a big rigmarole to post em!

Look, novels don't have pictures, right?

Am reading: Munich by Robert Harris, Escape Clause by John Sandford (a Virgil Flowers novel), Me Before You by Jojo Myers, Books by the Dead - A Memoir with Poetry - by Alan Catlin ( we email back and forth)


 Holy cow! This man has written loads of books!



ODE TO MY DRYER

You have been here since the day I moved in
O Whirlpool with a whistling "Wh"
The lovely items I've dried in you
Made in USA Cotton shorts I bought in Cape May
A wet book or two, but only for a second
Your looks are magnificent
Sorry I can't show you off
dans le living
A perpetual shine
like the midnight moon.


FACEBOOK SAYS DATA HARVESTED TOPS 87 MILLION

I certainly don't want Zuckerburg's cheatin face on my blog!


YES, FACEBOOK, PLEASE

Peddle my diseases to your cohorts
Fibromyalgia
Sjogrens syndrome
Congenital Heart Disease
The entire Hepatitus Family
and let's not forget
I was a Siamese Twin
separated at birth

Use your data to send me ads
about lingerie, rock music
from the sixties, dried
flowers made of silk and
posters for my living room

Unlike my friend Judy,
I am not a Facebook addict,
just a parttime user, who
likes her Salem cigarettes.

***

Happy Seventy-Sixth Anniversary, Mom and Dad
April 4, 1944

Stationed at Guantanamo, in World War II,
Staff Sergeant Harold Greenwold read 17 books a week
while smoking Lucky Strikes, stubbing
them out into a glass ashtray.

On furlough, he wore his Marine uniform
to Marlindale Road in Cleveland Heights,
where Mom awaited in a purple dress
that showed her shapely legs through
seamed stockings.

Rabbi Rosenthal married them. Dad
put on a shiny silk yarmulcha, and
said to me one day, he wanted to be
a rabbi, and was in fact to his
employees at Majestic Specialties.

He hired blacks, Jews, Italians and
former inmates. Many worked in
undershirts it was hot as a furnace
in there.

Page Sumpter Jr, Alan Schonberg,
Morty Shesol, Beryl Pinckney. Mark,
his nephew, who thought everyone
was watching him. 

Dad would go round every morning
to greet his people, including his
fast-typin secretary Lois Stendor
who he told tactfully to wear
deodorant.

He worked on the seventh floor
Holocaust survivors were there
with numbers tattooed on their
arms.

The place was huge like a church.
Little by little, many of them died off.
His lovely shapely bride remembers
him with fondness, saying, "He gave
me such great people to remember
him by."

And the list goes on and on.   

Gifts at our Seventh Kidneyversary - Poem: Party Leftovers

      Bought both of these on Amazon since the Barnes and Noble link was not working properly.

How long should I wait?

Was hoping - silly me! - that Ethan had never heard of Louise Penny and her Inspector Armande Gamache series from au Canada.

Good, he said, I haven't read this one.

Sarah said she'd put the Obama book in her office at Atlas Cops and Kids.

Whenever she goes somewhere she brings me beautiful postcards.

Ada does this as well! I often send them to her 108-yo mother at Brandywine Eastates.

Since I'm reading LAB GIRL for my Book Group this Thursday, was gonna say a tree has more memory than Lillian does, but that's not true. 

Ada and Rich gave me a donation to a fighting cancer foundation.

Eschewing my usual egg omelet this morning, gotta eat some of my leftover party food.

My chili is simmering in the pot.

Gimme a couple of minutes. Gotta write a poem for Facebook. 

PARTY LEFTOVERS

Sure, I try to lose weight,
but the goodies at my
party, tempt me like the
heroin addict I never was.

That iced coffee, medium roast,
from Rem, named after the bankrupt
Remington Bullet Company, tastes
great, hot to my tongue.

It's shiverin' weather outside.
Raining droplets that match my
polka dot pajama tops.

Our funnest neighbors have moving vans
lined up on the street.

Blue-eyed Zeke peeked in at our party.
Always wants something of MY-in, as they
pronounce it in these parts.

Change from my hand-painted coin bowl
Fat green tabs from Donna at Starbucks
Who am I to teach him a lesson?

Let him learn from Hope Community Church
just around the corner, as I allow him
two fat green sticky strips I seal my
envelopes wid.

7th Kidneyversity and counting - Sunday April 1, 2018 - Poem: Easter Sunrise Service

Scott found my missing purple camera between a cushion.

Jonquils, a variety of daffodils, from my back yard. Why buy vases?

I used a name tag I got from Kullie's 90th b'day party at the Abington Art Center.

I was outside cleaning up fallen sticks from a tree when Ethan came out and said, Want some help?

He was outside for two hours picking up sticks and other debris, putting em in a wheel barrow, and dumping em over a cliff in my back yard or Scott's.

What a help!

Since he quit the Bad Plus, he's doing fantastic and is booked up for at least a year. And, Sarah, of course is waiting for her novel Gravity to come out. The editors are discussing it. 

Sarah woke up at 11 am and prepared our feast. The poached Salmon with cucumber dill dressing was superb. Ethan rented a white Hyundai Elantra. At the party we discussed the lifetime warranty. A friend's engine broke down and it was replaced. Can I compare this with my kidney replacement?

Lynn told an interesting story about how women whose cleavage shows get what they want.

Kam from Ukraine, married to Reb Tyler, who is Patrick's bro, above.

After the party I bulged on many of the leftovers including the KettleCorn, which gave me sticky fingers, Mr. Jagger.

Tyler and his missus, Kamellia. He drove her to a chess game in NJ, near their home.

Rem told us that he bought CDs of the complete Rockford Files. When I went over Scott's this morning after returned from Adult D/care, he had gone to Best Buy and bought Rockford also. I can't wait to see them over cauliflower pizza crust tonight at 6 pm.

I'll have two pieces of delicious chocolate cake Ellen made with two scoops of Turkey Hill ice cream: French vanilla and Rocky Road.

The Perrier water was delicious. First time I had it was when Sarah and I traveled to St Martin's in the Caribbean and Sarah ordered it at a French restaurant.

I never drank it again. Delicious but price-y.

David, the 4-yo son of Kam and Tyler was hysterical when Sarah put the name tags on her face. She and Ethan had to leave at 7 pm to get their rental car back to Brooklyn.

My favorite food othan the cake and ice cream? Sarah's poached salmon with the dill sauce.

My chili was also darn good.

I sent everyone home with the foods I can't eat cuz of my diabetes.

Then I rode my steed upstairs in my bedroom for, oh, about 25 minutes. There is nuffing more boring, even though I was reading LAB GIRL, which I gotta finish by Thursday for our Book Group.

The author, Hope Jahran, surprised us at the end by telling us she met a wonderful man, Clint, they got married and had a son. She never mentioned his name.

Hmmm, if I had a son - and Dan couldn't make it as they had other plans - here are some choices:

Charles
Jonathan
Grove
Anchor
Orlando

And here's a poem I posted on FB.

I learned about these services years ago when I was a therapist at Bristol-Bensalem in Bensalem, PA

EASTER SUNRISE SERVICES

In the foggy darkness
as the moon was rising
in the eastern sky
they drove carefully
whole families piled
in SUVS or Toyota RAVs
little blue Hyudais or
battered old station wagons

Parked in the lot of
Peace Lutheran Church
as Father Travis and
his missus settled the
wooden podium in the damp
grass, he, peering over his
reading glasses
at the gathering
congregation unfolding
their lawn chairs

Charlie and Nan Myers
were there, he recovering
nicely after a stroke had
twisted his mouth

The seven Murphys were
seated as little Zeke
ran up and down the slope
in glow-in-the-dark
sneakers

The Danzigers came all the
way from Burlington, across
the bridge, plumping themselves
down in beach chairs, while
Laddy, their dying golden
retriever, sat at their feet

"It's like the arc filling up,"
laughed the pastor to his wife
When the multitudes were all there
the fog began to lift like a
wet curtain

The chatter of the congregation
sounded like an orchestra tuning up
the pastor held his wife's soft
hand in his a moment

and said, "Let us pray."

They felt the presence of Jesus rise
as did the full moon, unfettered
at last from unbearable agony.

The Holy Spirit blew like a warm breeze
over the slope that could have been
Golgotha.



Also entered my short story into Flash Fiction magazine.

Grave yard love

Shannon, the editor, wrote back confirming she received it. She also asked some optional questions that were fun to answer.

Gonna take a brief nap at Scott's now. Will fall asleep, sans doute, to Jim Garner, whose auto-bio I read.

New Pope Elected in the Book I Just Finished - catching up on Daily Poems - Readying for Kidneyversity

What a great book! Quite long. My daughter Sarah reminded me that it was her husband Ethan who recommended it to me.

Was in a foolproof cocoon as I read the book. First, tho, I danced to my new favorite band, Six O'Clock News. 

How I enjoyed my instant coffee. Managed to take a nap with Scott as we watched the evening news. El presidente is doing very cruel things to our immigrants and to our environment. Cruel is the right word.

Theories, anyone? Undoing Obama's legacy? Showing his autocratic Putin-esque power?

When I saw the moon out tonight I knew I had to write a poem about it. I left the door open so I could bask in moonbeams. See the tiny moon above?

My neighbor, Zeke, 5, knows I love the moon. He asked me if I look out my bedroom window at it?

I certainly do, Zeke. Left his dad, Pete Lytle, a message on FB. The family is moving out on April 3. Will miss them!

IS THE MOON OUT TONIGHT?

You bet it is. Caught on the topmost branch
of Bob and Judy's house, staring down at their
new Pella Windows and white picket fence.

Everything glows white.
White as the skin of
Christ hanging from
the cross on Golgotha.

Were you there?

The multitudes brought
picnic lunches to celebrate
his destruction, which soon
became his liberation.

I salute the cold mirror
of the moon and the rolling
of the stone that marked
the Saviour's Rising.

Ed Quinn liked the poem and told me to read ONE SOLITARY LIFE. It's an excerpt, he said, from a series of six sermons delivered by a Protestant minister who moved from Canada to Texas in the early 1900’s.

He knows it by heart and it never fails to move him to tears.

Many years ago we had a retired pastor and his wife attend ND. All I remember about them was that for some reason, she would get catatonically depressed around him but refused to leave him. I believe he wouldn't let her get medicated and said, God will take care of you.

Hmm. I need to write a short story for tomro, might I write about dat?

Finished my meatless chili. Listening to this audio book when I'm in the kitchen: Trevor Noah: Born a Crime, his South African childhood. His crime? He was the son of a black woman and a colored man. He looked white.  Excellent!

And who opened up the pasta sauces? Why, Tucker did, part of the family who are moving.

I keep our family abreast of who's bringing what foods to the party.

What? No meat? Nikki said.

It will be taken care of.

Laboriously, I changed my sheets for when Sarah and Ethan sleep here. It takes literally an hour.

Here's some daily poems I wrote on Facebook:



Used to belong to LA Fitness and loved to swim.

One of my fave swims was when Sarah, Ethan and I were aboard the Jazz Cruise ship about a year ago. I swam in a salt water pool on the top deck. It was so damn cold I thought I'd freeze to death, yes, I did!

Read all about it.





SWIM

 I have never learned to swim. I have never voluntarily immersed myself in any sea or stream. - Gerald Murnane, writer from Australia

The kings and queens of fitness
arrive early, shower, towel off
and plunge into the blue blue
waters of the lap pool.

I know. I was once one of them.
Swimming's like meditating.
Think of anything you like.
How delicious bananas are.
The jonquils lifting up their
pretty yellow heads in the backyard.

Ascending the ladder to leave.
I realize not I will never be back.

***

 UNDERNEATH MY BERET

Sure, I sleep in it
It's cold up here in the
Philadelphia winters

When I took it off
this morning
how surprised I was
to find

A tiny bird's nest
with two blue eggs
ready to hatch

I heard them crack
even though a Pella Window
truck was backing in
across the street

The dark-eyed juncos
flitted across the living room
Before they could poop
I ran downstairs,
grabbed my newly painted birdhouse
and popped them inside.

Outside they are.
Hope they're happy
and prosper, and like
their window as much
as my neighbors like
their Pella's. 

***

Hello Roly-Poly groundhog in back yard.

The night before I had a terrible dream. A furry animal was caged in a large glass jar. I was panic-stricken and had no idea how he'd get out. I was the furry animal. I looked for Sarah to help me out but she was nowhere to be found.

The next morning I did a double-take when I saw the ground-hog.

My niece Jade made a video about the Delaware River. Watch it on YouTube here.

You'll never guess who commented on it.

DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME

We played badminton
on the back lawn
Where's the birdie?
The shuttlecock in
official-ese?

There I'd go, flat
on my belly
making a save

Just like in later
years, we'd play
volleyball at
Masons' Mill Park

Broke my wrist
while making a save

Two breaks then
Wrist and ankle
What'll they think
of me when they open
my King Tut's tomb?

Driving at Night - To Catch a Thief - Bird houses are up in my front yard

Driving at night is not my favorite thing to do, but I did drive to Giant b/c I needed ingredients to make soup with. Onions mainly. The salad bar was closing so I couldn't spoon out peppers of all colors and celery.

My sugar had been terribly low, so I bought more Glucose Tabs - Hannah and Donna warmly welcomed me and said they lost a lotta clients to CVS, due to insurance reasons.

How are they treating you? asked Hannah.

Great! I never leave the car. Drive-thru.

Still, the traffic pattern once you pull into the CVS is dangerous. I go slow as a cat.

Helen was still open at the Chinese kiosk, so for $8 I ordered chicken and green beans. A really sickening article appeared in the Times - kind of muckraking article and why not? - about adding antibiotics to chickens.

Could not find the link but it contributes to the growing obesity of Americans. Each year we get fatter and fatter.

I don't. I stay the same. I do try to lose weight but never do.

    Took the Chinese food to the Food Court, now the Starbucks Court, and began eating.

Since the court was closed, there were no napkins available so I went into the bathroom and got a long tail of toilet paper. Apparently, to save money, they only use hand dryers, not towels.

The food was very spicy - never knew dat - so to cool off I dug into my plastic container of salad ingredients - honeydew and strawberries and cole slaw.

And then I saw the drama.

A young attractive blonde had been spotted by a Starbucks employee stealing a bunch of stuff. Truthfully, if I could have, I would have moved.

Very unpleasant.

Fortunately I couldn't hear the dialogue up at the beer/wine checkout, and everything was soto voce, no arguments.

At the end the woman left and said Thank you.

Apparently she'd been there the day before and also stole things. No one confronted her. The guy did an imitation of her walking - her arms were held straight out since they were filled with bottles of beer.

The thank-you was for not calling the cops. Yesterday they arrested two shoplifters and did call the cops.

When I was in grad school for psychology, my teacher Joyce Keene told us that there are many reasons why people shoplift. 

Hold on. Lemme see what's on TV.

A show on metaphysics... dying.

UNDERNEATH MY BERET

Sure, I sleep in it
It's cold up here in the
Philadelphia winters

When I took it off
this morning
how surprised I was
to find

A tiny bird's nest
with two blue eggs
ready to hatch

I heard them crack
even though a Pella Window
truck was backing in
across the street

The dark-eyed juncos
flitted across the living room
Before they could poop
I ran downstairs,
grabbed my newly painted birdhouse
and popped them inside.

Outside they are.
Hope they're happy
and prosper, and like
their window as much
as my neighbors like
their Pella's.

THE PHOTOS ONLY APPEAR ABOVE.

Was leaving for my volunteer job at the adult daycare center so I had to tiptoe my car around the Pella Iowa people.

That's it for now. Mailed my friend Marcy three copies of the Compass. She lives in California. Eight bucks.

Figured out how to resolve a difference I had with a good friend who used to write The Pursue the Wonderful Column for the Compass.

Will send her a copy. Thank you Jesus for helping me to think of that. Yes, I'm still reading CONCLAVE about the choosing of a new Pope.

Dramatis Extensius... or, tremendously dramatic things happened today as I read before my nap.

Went to Scott's to watch the news, hoping to avoid the Stormy Daniels incident, but I came right in the middle.

When she and Trump were walking together they looked like a loving couple, I swear to God.


 
Off to watch the metaphysics show.

Information for Loved Ones from New Directions Support Group

This is very important information!

New Directions was founded by myself in 1986, when manic-depression - Bipolar One - struck me out of the blue. I was the divorced mother of two young children, Sarah and Dan.

I've devoted most of my life to helping heal people with bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression, schizoaffective disorder and schizophrenia.

Many of these people have great gifts!

If you are having problems, do not hesitate to call your psychiatrist. That's what they're for!

We've helped loads of people find competent, caring psychiatrists.

Recently, a wife I'll call "Amy" called and asked me how she could help her husband "Harry."

As you may know, there is a high divorce rate among people with bipolar and/or depression. We'd like to help keep couples together.

A married couple we know - George and Ann - had a big house in Abington. When they quarreled or couldn't get along, they'd each move into separate quarters.  I still remember their dachsund. They passed away several years ago.

Amy must realize that Harry will speak to his psychiatrist if he's in trouble. Her support, though, is crucial. She can't possibly understand what he's going through. 

I advised Amy to read our 2018 Compass magazine.

Below is a video we made in 2014 about our group.

Click here.

Carole and Greg Hodges run our loved ones' group at Abington Presbyterian Church and do an outstanding job! We're so appreciative of their common sense and dedication.

Many spouses become "clingy." Both the diagnosed member and the spouse.

During crises, this is fine, but after the person is stabilized, we discourage it.

Each individual is a separate person who lives his/her own life with their own interests, hobbies, and friends of both sexes.

I like to hang out with fellow writers and poets.

Many people in New Directions have wonderful, long-lasting marriages. 

In 2013, I published YES I CAN:  My Bipolar Journey.

I'm a psychotherapist in private practice at my home in Willow Grove, PA.

Best way to get better is to have good meds and talk therapy. Did you know that talking stimulates neurons in the brain?

We also advocate for exercise and eating healthy.

What did you have for breakfast today?

Oh, you skipped it?

Not a good idea. At New Directions we partner with the nutritionist at Giant Supermarket.

   Here's Mary Ann Moylen talking to us in the Giant Coffeeshop about eating well.

Since Mary Ann moved, Christina Fava-Bean is her able replacement.

Here are other resources for spouses.

Learn as much as you can about bipolar and the other conditions your spouse suffers from.

Here's a talk I gave at the Doylestown Wellness Center where I discuss what to do about suicidal thoughts. How do I know? I've experienced them many a time. As have my friends.

Click here for a good read with loads of information. 

   Bruce Uhrich, M.Ed, has always hosted us. He's retired now.

John O'Reardon, MD, gave several talks at our group. Here's one. Johnny, as his patients call him, came to America from England by winning a lottery to allow in new immigrants.

Click here for very informative info.

  Dr John P O'Reardon

In addition, in my role as Founder/Director of New Directions, I write periodic guest columns in the Doylestown-PA based Intelligencer to widen understanding of mental illness, dispel myths about us, and lessen prejudice.



C'est moi. Wore this warm sweater to our every Saturday writing group and boasted, I got this sweater at a very expensive store:  Walmart.

In April, I'm celebrating the seventh anniversary of my kidney transplant. Sarah and I are hosting a party.

Namaste...

Poem: Trust - Hello Cousin Lloyd, Pea Soup, Asparagus Mushroom Quiche

Was biking and listening to the radio instead of reading. Realized now was the time to write a poem about Facebook.

TRUST

I trust the tall trees across the street
snow nibbling into their armpits and crotches

I trust the lights in neighbors' windows
in the evening

I trust my solar lights framing the sidewalk
to cast shadows and lead me out of the wilderness

I trust Bob's white picket fence in the back yard
where his poodles go to relax and to bark

I trust Johnny Meister and The Blues Show
honoring Denise LaSalle and her 24-hour woman
who doesn't want no part-time man

I trust the warmth of my polka-dot PJs, black socks
and layers of comforters to keep me warm

No trust for Facebook who done me and you and
all God's chillen wrong.

Where's your shame? Your red cheeks? Whatcha
gonna tell your high-class children? Cheat,
lie, money's all that matters?

Don't be that way. We're mad at you but we
ain't gonna quit ya.

MARK ZUCKERBERG said it was "A breech of trust." Read more here.

  He's with a woman who basically had her entire life story stolen from her.

***

 He's chewing Ellen's Cinnamon Covered Pecans or walnuts. What a head of hair he has. A psychologist who studied at McGill University in Montreal, we always learn new things when he comes to town.

Mom is all ears, except when she falls asleep. She had a busy day making her famous pea soup - we used to put cut-up "wienies" in it -and Ellen, our gracious host, made an asparagus-mushroom quiche. I ate a quarter of the pie.

Quiche eaten with huge soup spoon.

Wonder how the Auchincloss Family would like Mom's place settings. Am continuing apace in the book.

***

Good turnout at our Writers' Group.

I love visiting houses where I've never been before. After a very narrow entrance, I followed the voices into the living room. There they were! What a glorious sight! I love these people.

Donna presented another truthful poem about prejudice against those with mental illness.

Her brother Bob wrote about a walk on the beach.

Rem read Episode 48 of Randy Package. Great reader with different voices doing his clever dialog. He is thinking of retiring in Las Vegas. His late wife Valerie simply loved driving back and forth above the city, looking down on all the lights.

Linda wrote another brilliant fantasy/sci fi piece. Very raunchy. And funny. She's gotta submit it. Twisted Sister will take it, suggested Rem.

Linda was wearing a boot over her sprained ankle. She keeps it on all night. I wore one a couple yrs ago.

Ken, our host, wrote a true story about choosing to die b/c of an intolerable situation. The man in question had been a 17-yo football player who became a quad when his spine was broken after a play on the field.

He waited maybe 28 yrs before choosing death, sustaining himself with fantasies of being with various gorgeous girls he knew. Stormy Daniels, Trump's playmate, was not among them.

We met in the living room at the Ivins' house, a room rarely used. It had two skylights above that came with the house.

His dog Buddy made herself at home next to me, as I was sitting on the carpeted floor.

I wrote a true story called TRAV about what it's like living in the Travis Family House. Mom remembered their name.

Made a good start on the piece but have lots more to do. Par example, when I declined buying their living room couch, I learned later that they tossed it in the little woods behind our house.

YOU JERKS !!!!

Called neighbor Nancy M across the street this morning to ask her about the Travis Family.

In fact, she wrote me just now telling me she got tears in her eyes when she read my true story Tucker and The Holocaust Survivor.

Made me feel great!

Back to Lloyd. His Parkinson's is slow-growing. I asked. He's constantly getting new clients as he's listed as taking several insurances. People find him due to location and insurance, just like here.

He has a new bipolar patient who is very challenging.

He also runs a Dream Group. One person talks about a dream they had and others respond as if it were their dream.

He has a client with ADHD. He wrote down what he does for them and I sent it to someone in New Directions.

Lloyd has him hooked up to a neurofeedback machine with fast frequency 25-50 herz  EEG, gamma activity.

Thinking about you, Capitano, I ended up saying, unless you're a General by now.

STOP EATING THOSE GODDAMN PRETZELS! At first I dipped em in Philadelphia cream cheese and chives n onions. Mary Ann taught me to eat protein with my carbs.

Mom will mail this to Aunt Selma in South Euclid, OHIO for her 100th birthday. She made it from material we had at the Now and Then Shop.

I brought a supply of the 2018 Compass for when the mishpucha come to visit.

Ellen was our excellent hostess.

She drank coffee before bed and was up until four in the morning.

Lloyd told us about his coffee drinking. He sits in his chair and has half a cup of coffee. Then he meditates, attaining certain higher states. He wants to remain in the present moment for as long as possible.

  Buddha used to reside at LeRoy's Flower Shop in Hatboro, PA, until someone finally purchased him/her.