Out to dinner with my doctor the other night. Delicious scallops for me and a very juicy porkchop for her. A few days later I met up with my new doctor who seems to believe i am in very good physical shape. He and I share more funny stories than test results. Next I was back to the new coffee shop to test the breakfast offerings and give the owner another chance at fixing a flat white. This was such an improvement!
Later this week I will take some of my children’s books to him and the Australian bike shop fellow. Might drop a couple off to my new doctor because his kids are just so cute! It is good to see young settlers in Hayesville. Mostly we seem to be elderly….but that is likely because I live in an area where older-ness is the norm.
Today I had a strong hankering for a Turkish coffee, so brewed one up in my ibrik. I bought this little copper one at a tea shop in Melbourne years ago. When Patrick visits he brings his shipped ibrik that is from Armenia and large enough for the three cups he, Marla and I need on special mornings. Mine is just for a single serving with a bit of cream.
As soon as I finished sipping the Turkish coffee I used up some scallions, ham, spinach, and parmesan in assortedly-shaped savoury scones.
Very good and pass for a meal in my book.
A neighbor and friend brought me this gift the other day. She knows me quite well by now.
I returned to a poetry group this last week and read the poem I shared here last week. Robyn Gordon from South Africa shared it on her site and because she has such a large following, I still hear about how it touched others from far, far away.
Yesterday I decided to do something that I strongly advise others to do. I wanted to check my sketchbooks and especially journals where I might have written something that does not need to be read after I am no longer here. I pulled out the large sketchbook/journal that Nick Cave sent me as a thank you for a small book I made of his sound costumes when they were performed in 2000 something.
I found that some pages had already been removed (which is a good thing, I am sure). But those remaining had so many stories resulting from prompts by author Elizabeth Berg on writing true. There was even one on watching of 9/11 unfold. Many of the writings will make their way into the next book of essays/etc. One of them brought me back to my early dislike (fear) of water. And that steered me to this early attempt of making a collograph. It was brought on by trying to visually express that fear of water along with a call to my doctor (the same one I had dinner with this week). I was getting ready to head out on my first teaching tour of Australia in 1997. She casually asked how I was feeling. I said without hesitation that I felt like I was dragging a f***ing camel uphill. She suggested hormone therapy pills. The feeling passed, but later remembered for this collograph plate. Why not just put that camel on a boat floating among turbulent waves and sharks Hauling uphill was not enough! I think I was taking my house with me and had an additional boat on the camel’s back just in case we sunk the big one. Surely it would have been the camel’s fault! The sea was rough, the camel was looking elsewhere, and somewhere I was hanging on for dear life.
Isn’t it funny how we cram so much story into an image? I pulled one print, said something the equivalent of “WTF” and gave up. But the origins of that fear of water revisited in this writing (essay) found in the book Nick Cave sent me.
Feeling the Bottom
I clung to the side of the raft, keeping myself well-planted on the surface – only looking like I was going to descend into the water with the others. The water is so clear, so deep, so very full of its own depth with mysterious dark shapes. It was cold too – colder than what it was when the raft was closer to shore, where you could see the sandy bottom more clearly. They were all in by now – all but me had gone over the side to swim ashore, just like our swimming coach had ordered. I had frozen myself into a state of unwillingness and could no longer look at any of them. They had become as fearful to me as the water. They, too, had changed. Looking at me expectantly, then with doubt, and then just looking away. Left me there. Later big boys came out. Swam all the way! And hauled the raft in toward shore and the row of Minnows who had now graduated to Sharks. I will still be a Minnow tomorrow and probably the rest of summer. But at least I was where my feet could touch the bottom.
So, that is all I have for today. It is going to be bitter cold tonight and I have half a can of split pea soup to mix with the last of store-bought mashed potatoes. Sounds pathetic, but strangely comforting food…a bit like a hot chocolate and warm socks. A bit like a cat on each side and a glass of Aussie red.
Til later….