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I love how, just for now, the sun comes through the windows of the courthouse where I park each morning,  just to shine on the outside of another side of the building.

Looking over some older contact printed cloth and papers made on my last trip to Australia. Not sure what to do with them now….

I might just use them to illustrate the cover of my next book of poems, essays, short stories. Thinking about titling it Exposures. Here is the latest poem that I read last week.

Shores of Memory                     S. Webster

 

I find myself slipping into silence

when a memory drifts in

only to recede like the tide,

pulling me back to what I was before.

 

Before being swept forward

onto this unfamiliar shore

of otherness and uncertainty,

among the memories of those

who wanted to be here.

 

Stepping carefully,

I trespass and stumble

in search of belonging,

before pausing long enough

to surrender to the silence.

 

Behind its veil

I turn back to set myself adrift

in waves of longing

between here and there.

 

Some days I find myself stuck, sandwiched between then and now. And then I am back where I should be… in a state of busy. And I lose myself in that.

The other day I returned to chair yoga classes. I had missed since before my lung operation in January. But my confidence is improving. Not so worried about my next steps. Having a personal trainer come to the house once a week with a set program has helped very much. He remembered how much I liked to hit a punching bag and set a considerable amount of timed exercises with fielding my punches. I take the stance, hands up and respond with a hit for each number he calls out. He catches those hits with protected hands. Yesterday we added bouncing around  without losing my stance… first circling each other while punching and then forward and backward. I feel so good when a session ends … exhausted but still standing.

Here are my gloves that I have had for several years. I have to vacuum up bits of their outer skin after the pounding they take.

And this morning I was able to get back to the small paintings of leaves in my six way book. Finally with spring comes new leaves!

This week I have increased my steps to 6000 per day.  Working my way back to 8,000.

Patrick was going to drive down for Easter but he would be on the road two of the four days he had off, so I told him to stay home. He can come some other time. I bought myself a chocolate bunny for the holiday and might just test my ability to replace my toilet seat over the weekend. One of the guys on the corner offered to do it, but it made me feel helpless. So I can read the instructions and manage… hopefully without dislodging the bidet attachment. Wish me luck!

That’s it. Another 1000 steps and wine with a neighbor.

Til later….

Some very dreary days here but the dogwood is beginning to bloom. And I tried to stay away from the plant stores…honestly, I did. But then one wander around the neighborhood and I thought I should go before they were all sold out. Silly idea! Many stores don’t even have all their plants in yet. But I did buy two new Japanese maples, several ferns, some herbs and wormwood and grasses. Digging holes is not as easy as it once was. Neither is hauling large bags of potting soils from the back of the car to where it needs to be. I might be finished for awhile. I also added a lovely glass hummingbird feeder to the back yard. But it has turned cold and they may have delayed their arrival.

The best news in the past few weeks was hearing from my Australian students who call every year to show me what they made in their workshop and the projects they are working on in the house we all rented together. This arrived yesterday from printmaker, Patsy, that has a side for each of the six of us. Mine is the Eucalyptus leaves…Judith is the penguin from her travels to Antarctica. It, along with Jane’s amazing embroidery have places of pride in the den. I am so grateful they check in each year with a video call to show me all the things they have worked on. They also send pictures of the cockatoos, kookaburras and kangaroos out in the yard there. My suggestion for next year is we each design a board game.

The idea of being a workshop instructor for students like these and others willing to dig deep got me thinking about how extraordinary some of those works have been. And how much it mattered to them to get feelings, passions and memories fixed into a place of belonging. I think I will write an essay on the works that come from such deep places and how wonderful it was to be a part of their explorations. I will forever miss those students who took the adventures into the things that genuinely mattered in their lives and asked for help in getting them housed in reliquaries with hidden spaces and private places.

Very few of the students I taught locally went beyond making places for family photos, letters and mementoes. All lovely, all safe to show. But the others, the ones that struggled with meaning…those were the best by far.

Last night was another invitation to wine tasting with the usual table of fun conversations over good food and wine. Here is the starter with all French wines beginning with a Viognier. Superb!

In another hour my physical therapist will be here to work some more on my balance, strength and confidence. Last week he remembered how much I loved punching the boxing bag. So we got my gloves back out to make it part of the new routine. Now I can make jabs with right and left fists into his padded hands while keeping my balance. It feels so good to just hit something.

Time to sign off for now….

Til later….

My daughter, Amy, had 500 0f these pins made from the postcard image. I now have only a few left of the 100 she sent me. Most are headed off with two hundred postcards to a rally this coming weekend. I am not attending because it is going to be a couple hours on my feet…and that seems too much right now.

I do have a therapist coming once a week to work with me on balance and confidence in my movements. I have gone back to tai chi but have hesitations about three quarters the way through and finish in my chair. When the therapist asked what my goals were, I said I wanted to be back where I was before pneumonia last summer. He seemed to think that was not a problem. This week I am upping my daily step count from 4,000 to 5,000. It is a struggle but I can now do the loop around the whole neighborhood albeit a bit slow.

This morning I took myself off to brunch after an annual eye appointment. My mouth was set for eggs benedict like in the website picture. Sorry dear, that is only for Sundays. My choices were reduced down to where a burrito sounded good. Let me say here that burritos are burritos however you cut it.  Scrambled eggs with strips of bacon and fake yellow cheese with dripping tomatoes was a far cry from eggs benedict. She said to come back Sunday. I don’t think so.

Earlier this week I baked a pretty good “clean out the fridge dish.

It started by rescuing a drying out puff pastry sheet and rolling it out to drop in a pie pan. I chopped a couple of ham slices left in the bag, some fresh spinach, a shallot, then mixed three eggs with a cup of cottage cheese and some half and half. Poured the liquid over the chopped ham and veggies after tossing a couple handfuls of shredded cheddar cheese. Folded over the corners and brushed with reserved bit of egg. It was delicious and did not collapse like a quiche.

So just to get this posted, I will post my latest poem about how it feels to be an angry American now.

 

Retribution          S. Webster

 

I used to search for some relief

to ease my growing, bruising grief,

brought on by how you choose to see

a world that once was shared with me.

If we tally up the total cost

of all we wanted … now lost.

Don’t come to me when you understand

and think I will extend a hand.

 

Til later…..

I am not so tired this week. There was a rally in town and I was happy to be a part of it.

Last time there were 30 attendees…this time over 80. It felt good to hear the honks and see the thumbs up of support. I handed out postcards and waved my signs. Then off to a bar for dinner that evening to celebrate a neighbors birthday. Looking down the table set for 12, I realized I was the only liberal in the group. Surprised they always include me…and very grateful. I even listened to the live music of a fellow picking his guitar and singing favorites. I requested a Lyle Lovett tune but the fellow said Lyle Lovett was too much in the high notes for him. Also asked for the Richard Thompson song about being as fine as a bee’s wing….he never heard of it.

Someone there bought my dinner and I left after eating the frosting off the birthday cake. I hope they include me again next time…even though one of them whom I really like said I make it hard for her to like me with my less than enthusiastic response to the music she loves and plays. We both laughed at that.

So, buoyed by the rally, I spent the day addressing postcards to all Democrats in the Senate and asked they give them to a Republican.  I am quite sure all the ones I sent to the Republicans found their way to the trash can.

The best news was that last night was the annual call from students in Australia. We talked for an hour about what they did in their workshop and what they are doing in their studios. They still rent the same house we all shared for several years after they were in my workshop. This morning I woke to pictures they sent of a kookaburra and kangaroo and each other. Each of them received a gift from renowned embroiderer in the group, Jane. Mine came last week.

It is always so wonderful that we keep in touch. I suggested that we each work on a board game this next year. It will give me something complex to work on.

In the meantime I have my writing and my cats.

Here is the poem from a week ago….

 

The Waiting Page                                                                    S. Webster

 

If I rubbed my eraser backwards

would all the words I smeared away

come back to lay themselves

upon the waiting page?

 

And can they be arranged anew

into thoughts that flow

from heart to paper?

 

Now, when I need them most,

have enough survived the bruising

of being tossed aside

to let me try again?

 

Til later….