I’m swearing that this time I’ll be organized. It used to be when something sold I’d panic because half the time I had no idea where the object got off to. Can you imagine?
In this house, with windows everywhere and decorated walls, taking professional-looking product shots is challenging. Not this time! I’m going to dedicate one of the boys’ rooms to photography. Whee! Lights and props out (and left out) is a prescription for ease.
I have a notebook ready for pen and paper notes. No more languishing listings! But more to the point of a well-groomed shop, everything’s gonna be done on my phone. That’s how I know it’s gonna be different. A whole new level of access and attention!
(As readers here might know, I have an inexplicable aversion to sitting at the desktop).
Hospital update: it looks like N might be staying through the weekend. Longer than I expected. While her new subsidized housing is great, with the move she lost the neighbors who used to check in on her cat. Damn!
The nurses and doctors are taking good care of my sister. That’s something to be grateful for.
Lastly, walking Finn an hour ago this happened: a big green monster of a garbage truck barreled past on its hungry quest for abandoned Christmas trees. Usually these trucks leave a malodorous trail. Imagine my delight to smell balsam instead — great heady wafts of it lasting the entire block.
AND, just as that pleasant sensation unfolded at street level, a red tailed hawk flew directly overhead, close — just above the power lines.
How about that?
A difficult day. When I got home I combined leftover spaghetti (two meatballs) with some leftover chicken soup, added a cup of cilantro and a handful of grated cheddar. It might sound awful but it was delicious and I don’t think solely because of the day I’d had.
My sister’s in the hospital again.
After the soup I really indulged. Butterscotch, raspberries and vanilla ice cream.
No wonder I didn’t have dinner!
For months my sister badgered me to sign up for Acorn TV. I resisted. We have Netflix and Amazon Prime — what did I need Acorn for? Well, this past week, K and I finally subscribed — mostly so we could watch new Vera’s (love Vera. She looks like my Nana Jacques. She doesn’t take shit from anyone). Saw those and moved on to Loch Ness — a creepy good six parter with lots of twists and turns.
I can’t wait to recommend it to my sister. She will love it, too.
I was ironing. The game was on. Every now and then, I grabbed a piece of commentary.
Football Poem #1
The soft spot in the pocket
It just takes a while
All these streaks you talk about
They’re changing it up
A double team, it’s really hard
A lot of zone right here
We’re not going sideways
From the get-go
A hand on it
Just blown up at the end of it
There he is
I did it! Oh
The air blew bitter cold on the day’s first walk. Less so in the second.
On Cypress Street a hawk swooped overhead, its wing outlines sharp against a leaden sky.
I’m asking myself today: what is freedom? What is loyalty? And what kind of accountability ought to be operating in certain caregiving relationships.
Tomorrow we are supposed to get snow. Possibly a foot.
I’m taking down today’s earlier post regarding Salem. If you want an email link, I’m happy to share, but I almost always have fairly immediate misgivings about airing these personal matters.
Tomorrow, it’s back to final chapters for my manuscript.
“I WAS AN ENGLISH MAJOR! I KNOW THINGS!” (to be yelled like Billy Eichner interviewing New Yorkers on the street).
This week, that became a saying in this house.
It was a friendly thread on FB. Should we capitalize the word “enslaver,” asked someone who thinks about these things. Like “Democrat” or “Pope?”
I’m pretty sure everyone in the thread had come to grips with the idea that referring to ‘slaves’ as ‘the enslaved’ was less objectifying and worth the effort. And further, that replacing the benign, perhaps even noble, titles “planter” and “landowner” with “enslaver” in certain times and places in history was corrective. Necessary.
But with a capital ‘E’?
I played with the idea (Thomas Jefferson, President, Enslaver). Said I liked how it put the shameful next to the prestigious — right out there.
Martha set me straight. “Oh good grief,” she began. She made a condescending comment, complete with examples of usage. Went on to make a nonsensical distinction between occupations and appointments.
To my credit, I stayed in it without getting snide or contentious. I never mentioned the law degree that followed my English degree. She eventually gave up.
But now at odd moments in our house, you might hearing me loudly pronouncing: “I WAS AN ENGLISH MAJOR! I KNOW THINGS!”
Picked up studio today. It felt good, necessary even. Moved two giant pin boards back downstairs, including the plot map one (I don’t need it anymore. It had become clutter). Finn wrecked the puzzle while we were out yesterday, so I slid all the pieces back into the box and put the card table away. Loving the space. If D. wasn’t coming home on Sunday, I’d take down the tree. I can wait.
One low point: learning that my sister’s aide quit and that her long time case worker has assigned my sister to someone else.
One balancing point: reading the words, “we refrain from protecting them from the consequences of their actions.”
Three high points: party goer who has been studying racial inequity for twenty years saying, “and that’s why I enjoy your blog so much,” then walking home from Solstice gathering in the rain feeling oh so grounded and grateful and finally, an hour later, K returning from China.