A good friend and former doctor took me out to lunch this week. Ahi tuna salad with a glass of Chardonnay. Very nice. We caught up on news of her recent trip to France and my excursions into town and my neighborhood. I am getting more reclusive as I age.
Remember those boxes I made that contain all the special sketches and mementos from different countries? Well, that’s how I prefer to travel now. Just mix up a cocktail, sit down with one of seven countries, and fondle the bits of memory enclosed. So much easier and so full of happiness. It was such a good idea to make these boxes to look through later in life as travel would become more difficult.
When we went to the restaurant for that lovely salad, I was able to take the waitress the shirt I made for her. She was very surprised and happy that I did it. Hers is the sage-colored one on the top of the stack.
And I learned that with darker colors, never use a lighter colored thread. It really stands out. The other thing I learned was how meditative it is to sit and use your seam ripper to remove all the offending stitches.
The neighborhood is taking a bit of a chachka look as someone seems to be unloading their collections around the subdivision. Several artificial flowers in flower beds with the real thing, which pushes the idea of a southern cemetery. But this construction worker’s port-a-john really takes the prize! And yes, that actually is a bird house hanging off one side.
I did not venture a trip around the back side to see if the workers were still allowed access.
Back to poetry this week. It feels good putting down words in lines and then knowing those thoughts have found a place to be instead of rambling around in my head and heart looking for a way out. There’s an old fellow from England that I happened onto on line. He sits in his garden, apologizes for not having more flowers than greenery, shrugs deeper into his jacket and reads poems from a very large book. His eyes sit deep above puffy lower lids as they move over the words of a poet he has taken the time to introduce before reading. Just listening to him and seeing the joy he feels when reading, I want to make a cup of tea and sit for a longer time in his company and garden.
I need to do more sketching in my books. It would be a good idea to not have any blank journals left behind. We book makers do not assemble all those pages to be left blank. And I am not the type that would even consider pasting in scraps of paper with a copied phrase from Mary Oliver.
Today I will make a quiche to clean out the fridge and have six meals at the ready.
I will be able to stay at home, keep to myself, and try not to watch the downward crash of a country I once was proud of.
Today it will be a nice Manhattan at the end of the day and early to bed.
Til later….