Blade Runner fans, you know the rest.
We are here: well and safe and sound. The girls are also here, and well and safe and mostly sound. Yesterday, S. had to be taken to the Dr. because of a puffy red eye, which it turns out was slightly scratched somehow - possibly she scratched it in her sleep. We are grateful that eyes heal so quickly. She'll go back for a checkup tomorrow, but today she was the "Pirate Princess" with a patch over the eye.
She was so happy to see me when I picked her up from daycare that she was "almost going to POP!" Daughter number 1 was also thrilled to see me, and gave a running jump into a hug that nearly broke me, followed immediately by her running off to play with a friend. It's all right. I'll get over it.
There is SO MUCH to tell about the trip. I suppose it's best done in installments, and best done after more than the 3 or 4 hours of sleep I've had in the last 2 days. Let's see - it's now 2:30pm in Tokyo Thursday, and we got up to leave around 7:30am in Tokyo Wednesday. I slept about 30 minutes on the plane, about 20 minutes in the airporter, and about 3 hours since I got home. Time for a full night's sleep!
Great to be home. Wonderful to be away, mind you, but great to be home.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Oct. 20, 2004
Dateline Tokyo.
The 23rd typhoon of the season has pretty much passed through the city. The southern parts of Japan, where we will visit next, were hit fairly hard. Here in the city, it just rained on us the whooe time we were sight seeing yesterday, and then while we safely had dinner at the hotel restaurant, the worst of it passed through.
This morning it is raining but not socked in. We'll have a few hours of sight seeing and then I'll be off to another meeting followed by a trade show visit followed by dinner. Tuesday afternoon and evening and even part of the night was business meetings and dinner with the other company's CEO and Manager too. We're learning a lot about how they do business, and more importantly, they're learning a lot about how we run our company. The CEO and Director of Business Developement (our outside sales manager) are really showing me how it's done.
The hotel we are staying at is the one used for the film "Lost in Translations." If you've seen the movie, you know what this place is like. And it's not just a movie star that gets treated royally here. Everyone does.
I want to write more - there's a lot to write! But I have only a little time to see more sights before business, and I don't want to lose that chance. So this is all for now.
The 23rd typhoon of the season has pretty much passed through the city. The southern parts of Japan, where we will visit next, were hit fairly hard. Here in the city, it just rained on us the whooe time we were sight seeing yesterday, and then while we safely had dinner at the hotel restaurant, the worst of it passed through.
This morning it is raining but not socked in. We'll have a few hours of sight seeing and then I'll be off to another meeting followed by a trade show visit followed by dinner. Tuesday afternoon and evening and even part of the night was business meetings and dinner with the other company's CEO and Manager too. We're learning a lot about how they do business, and more importantly, they're learning a lot about how we run our company. The CEO and Director of Business Developement (our outside sales manager) are really showing me how it's done.
The hotel we are staying at is the one used for the film "Lost in Translations." If you've seen the movie, you know what this place is like. And it's not just a movie star that gets treated royally here. Everyone does.
I want to write more - there's a lot to write! But I have only a little time to see more sights before business, and I don't want to lose that chance. So this is all for now.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Pre-Trip Count Down: 36 hours
I'm 36 hours away from getting on the airporter and going to Japan.
My to-do list is long - but finite. My energy is low but steady - amazing, especially since I've had 5 hrs sleep per night for the last 4 or 5 nights, now. I've lost count. It's a little like having a baby in the house, but instead of losing shut eye for the sake of a crying newborn, I'm up at all hours to appease my own sense of needing to be prepared for a journey.
When we go on long car trips, my husband packs flares and spare gasoline and whatever manly tools he thinks one might need in the event of a problem. I don't think in those concrete terms, but really, I do same thing before a big trip in terms of mental preparation.
One of the symptoms of the difference between us, though, is that he seems unconcerned by what is being left behind. He doesn't worry about letters to teachers, permission slips and paperwork that needs to be put in order, while I can't be bothered to think about how much air is in the tires or what the turbulence might be like over the Pacific.
I've cleaned out most of the drawers and closets in the house. I still need to complete the list of contact names and numbers, the how-to-use the funky dishwasher instructions, to clean out the dog's pen, pay the bills, yadda yadda yadda. There are a few business details still to sort out too: a list the contacts we'll be meeting and their titles (I have their cards from previous trips), a map out their offices and facilities and the trade show we'll be visiting.
The young woman who is watching our kids (with help from her fiance) will have copious lists of instructions and directions. I warned her about this, and she was actually grateful. (Or at least, she said she was.) With her last gig like this, the parents went to Jamaica for a week, and she ended up having to rely on the 4 year old (the oldest of the 3 kids she was watching) to tell her where Mommy kept everything.
Anyway, I'll probably be up until midnight again, but maybe in some twisted way, that's good. I think I'm getting used to the change in the time zone. Right now it's noon in Tokyo.
I will do what I can to post to this blog while traveling. Maybe I'll even figure out a way to post pictures.
But I guess know about as much Japanese as I'm going to know by Sunday.
My to-do list is long - but finite. My energy is low but steady - amazing, especially since I've had 5 hrs sleep per night for the last 4 or 5 nights, now. I've lost count. It's a little like having a baby in the house, but instead of losing shut eye for the sake of a crying newborn, I'm up at all hours to appease my own sense of needing to be prepared for a journey.
When we go on long car trips, my husband packs flares and spare gasoline and whatever manly tools he thinks one might need in the event of a problem. I don't think in those concrete terms, but really, I do same thing before a big trip in terms of mental preparation.
One of the symptoms of the difference between us, though, is that he seems unconcerned by what is being left behind. He doesn't worry about letters to teachers, permission slips and paperwork that needs to be put in order, while I can't be bothered to think about how much air is in the tires or what the turbulence might be like over the Pacific.
I've cleaned out most of the drawers and closets in the house. I still need to complete the list of contact names and numbers, the how-to-use the funky dishwasher instructions, to clean out the dog's pen, pay the bills, yadda yadda yadda. There are a few business details still to sort out too: a list the contacts we'll be meeting and their titles (I have their cards from previous trips), a map out their offices and facilities and the trade show we'll be visiting.
The young woman who is watching our kids (with help from her fiance) will have copious lists of instructions and directions. I warned her about this, and she was actually grateful. (Or at least, she said she was.) With her last gig like this, the parents went to Jamaica for a week, and she ended up having to rely on the 4 year old (the oldest of the 3 kids she was watching) to tell her where Mommy kept everything.
Anyway, I'll probably be up until midnight again, but maybe in some twisted way, that's good. I think I'm getting used to the change in the time zone. Right now it's noon in Tokyo.
I will do what I can to post to this blog while traveling. Maybe I'll even figure out a way to post pictures.
But I guess know about as much Japanese as I'm going to know by Sunday.
Monday, October 11, 2004
Some lessons are repeated
Here's what I'd like to do: sit in front of a movie and vegetate for about thirty minutes and then go to bed and get almost full night's sleep.
Here's what I'm going to do: put on a mud face mask, write something for tomorrow's workshop, make the girls' lunches, do the dishes, drink more water, check my Japan trip to-do list, and then maybe fold laundry while watching a few more minutes of Lost in Translation. I've seen it once, but watching it feels like more trip preparation, so I can be entertained and feel like I'm accomplishing something at the same time.
Sick, isn't it?
At least - as my mom pointed out tonight - at least I can laugh at myself about it. "When are you going to learn?" she asked. Apparently not yet.
But please note that I WILL relax on my trip.
Here's what I'm going to do: put on a mud face mask, write something for tomorrow's workshop, make the girls' lunches, do the dishes, drink more water, check my Japan trip to-do list, and then maybe fold laundry while watching a few more minutes of Lost in Translation. I've seen it once, but watching it feels like more trip preparation, so I can be entertained and feel like I'm accomplishing something at the same time.
Sick, isn't it?
At least - as my mom pointed out tonight - at least I can laugh at myself about it. "When are you going to learn?" she asked. Apparently not yet.
But please note that I WILL relax on my trip.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Ships and the Sea
We spent the day on the S.S. Jeremiah O'Brien today. We left before sunrise to make it to Pier 45 on time. There was a horribly nerve-wracking hour or so, while I tried to figure out if I was supposed to bring tickets and/or whether they would let us onboard without them, and while D's sister broke the speed of sound getting from her home to the ship before it left.
But we made it, we were all onboard when the tugboats started doing their work, and it was a long but enjoyable day. They served good food, there was a big band playing all day, and we saw the Snowbirds do their stuff. I'm still rocking from being on sea from 8 to 4:30, but it could also be that I'm swaying with exhaustion.
We had dinner out (my request) and after the kids got to bed, I went through a drawer of my grandmother's papers to pull out letters from the kids. I've been doing that for hours now.
A funny thing happened, too. Before I got to the drawer of things, I was cleaning up one of the ubiquitous piles of paper on the office floor, and I found an offer to join or contribute to the Nature Conservancy. Well, I do sometimes send checks to various causes and non-profit organizations. But every once in a while, you just have to release yourself of the false sense of obligation brought on by unsolicited mailing. And I said to D., "I'm not going to give to these guys right now," and I threw away the paper. (Ah! Liberation!)
Forty-five minutes later, going through my grandmother's things, I found an envelope from the Nature Conservancy asking her to renew her membership. She'd hung on to the request (for who knows how long), and when she died, it went with all her other paperwork to me.
Yeah, okay. But she died over 8 years ago.
So I threw it out on her behalf.
I think we all feel better. Except maybe the Nature Conservancy. But they'll get over it. Heck, they not only have the domain www.nature.org, but they got a plug in my blog. Twice, if you think about it.
To bed. Tomorrow will be another big day, followed by only big days until we leave for Japan. It's the last big push to get myself and my family ready for our 10 day adventure apart, the last few days during which I can organize my things, clean the house, pack, and find a cure for cancer.
Makes me tired just thinking about it. I've done my duty for the day. I've written. To bed.
But we made it, we were all onboard when the tugboats started doing their work, and it was a long but enjoyable day. They served good food, there was a big band playing all day, and we saw the Snowbirds do their stuff. I'm still rocking from being on sea from 8 to 4:30, but it could also be that I'm swaying with exhaustion.
We had dinner out (my request) and after the kids got to bed, I went through a drawer of my grandmother's papers to pull out letters from the kids. I've been doing that for hours now.
A funny thing happened, too. Before I got to the drawer of things, I was cleaning up one of the ubiquitous piles of paper on the office floor, and I found an offer to join or contribute to the Nature Conservancy. Well, I do sometimes send checks to various causes and non-profit organizations. But every once in a while, you just have to release yourself of the false sense of obligation brought on by unsolicited mailing. And I said to D., "I'm not going to give to these guys right now," and I threw away the paper. (Ah! Liberation!)
Forty-five minutes later, going through my grandmother's things, I found an envelope from the Nature Conservancy asking her to renew her membership. She'd hung on to the request (for who knows how long), and when she died, it went with all her other paperwork to me.
Yeah, okay. But she died over 8 years ago.
So I threw it out on her behalf.
I think we all feel better. Except maybe the Nature Conservancy. But they'll get over it. Heck, they not only have the domain www.nature.org, but they got a plug in my blog. Twice, if you think about it.
To bed. Tomorrow will be another big day, followed by only big days until we leave for Japan. It's the last big push to get myself and my family ready for our 10 day adventure apart, the last few days during which I can organize my things, clean the house, pack, and find a cure for cancer.
Makes me tired just thinking about it. I've done my duty for the day. I've written. To bed.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Choices
I have made an enlightened decision. I won't be able to complete my grandmother's transcription AND sleep between now and my trip (let alone before the 13th), so I'm going to set it aside and complete it for Christmas.
I'm on page 45, which represents about one and a half of five or six tapes. It takes me about an hour to transcribe about 5 minutes of speaking, because I'm doing it verbatim, and keep pausing and rewinding to get every "but...uh.." and cut off or mumbled sentence she said. So I think there are about 270 minutes more to go. That's nearly 24 hours, realistically. It can't happen as quickly as I'd like.
I can be proud of what I've done so far, and send out a note to my family in time for her birthday, maybe with a picture and excerpt and an announcement that more will come. I have a great shot of her and two friends in front of a little plane they flew in in the 1920's. That should do. I don't want to send just some of the transcript. I'll back up the tapes, back up the file, and put it all in our fire safe.
And then I can focus on other things.
The older I get, the better I can think through things and prioritize, but I'm still fighting this weird idea I have that I can and should do everything I think I can and should do.
Right now I can and should go to bed, but see, now, that's an example of a reasonable goal.
I'm on page 45, which represents about one and a half of five or six tapes. It takes me about an hour to transcribe about 5 minutes of speaking, because I'm doing it verbatim, and keep pausing and rewinding to get every "but...uh.." and cut off or mumbled sentence she said. So I think there are about 270 minutes more to go. That's nearly 24 hours, realistically. It can't happen as quickly as I'd like.
I can be proud of what I've done so far, and send out a note to my family in time for her birthday, maybe with a picture and excerpt and an announcement that more will come. I have a great shot of her and two friends in front of a little plane they flew in in the 1920's. That should do. I don't want to send just some of the transcript. I'll back up the tapes, back up the file, and put it all in our fire safe.
And then I can focus on other things.
The older I get, the better I can think through things and prioritize, but I'm still fighting this weird idea I have that I can and should do everything I think I can and should do.
Right now I can and should go to bed, but see, now, that's an example of a reasonable goal.
Monday, October 04, 2004
16 tons of concrete
Hello Gentle Readers. I am here, and all is well.
R's 10th birthday party was a quiet affair, with dinner out and a sleepover with two of her friends. She invited the sweetest, most polite girls in her class, which made my job easy. One of the girls is diabetic, and so we had to stay on top of checking her blood and dosing out the insulin after consulting with her mom every few hours. It was educational, because I now understand carbs and blood sugar in a whole new way, but also educational to see that a 9 year old girl can jab herself in the stomach with a needle and just say a quiet, "Ow" when she's done. It's all about attitude; how we handle hardships, how we get through this life.
We had about 16 tons of concrete poured in our front yard today. That's right: 33,000+ pounds have gone into the making of a courtyard just outside the front door. D. was very worried thinking about it last night, and I don't blame him. That's a lot of material to deal with if something goes wrong. Which it didn't. We'll have a walkway to the front door cured in another week or so instead of the rebar and dobie obstacle course we'd had. (I tried and tried to find a visual for a dobie but I couldn't!) It feels like things are getting done in a timely manner, but that's probably because I'm not the one doing all the hard work & I'm not as aware as D. is of what must still be done.
I'm working on poems to send to the contest, and I think I have 2 or 3 candidates so far, but they'll need more work. I love the process of working on poetry so much.
Tonight is D's night out. I got the girls to bed before 9pm and am still awake a half hour later - unheard of for a Monday night! I'm trying to talk myself into doing a few more things before bed so I can sleep well all night instead of my usual Monday night routine: collapse into bed, set the alarm for 10pm, hit the snooze button for two hours, get up and work for an hour or two, go back to bed. That's just so wrong in so many ways.
The pet rat is keeping me company. We named her Beatrice. I suppose if I'd had a male too I would have named him Dante, but it somehow seems appropriate that Beatrice is here and Dante is somewhere else, distant from her.
R's 10th birthday party was a quiet affair, with dinner out and a sleepover with two of her friends. She invited the sweetest, most polite girls in her class, which made my job easy. One of the girls is diabetic, and so we had to stay on top of checking her blood and dosing out the insulin after consulting with her mom every few hours. It was educational, because I now understand carbs and blood sugar in a whole new way, but also educational to see that a 9 year old girl can jab herself in the stomach with a needle and just say a quiet, "Ow" when she's done. It's all about attitude; how we handle hardships, how we get through this life.
We had about 16 tons of concrete poured in our front yard today. That's right: 33,000+ pounds have gone into the making of a courtyard just outside the front door. D. was very worried thinking about it last night, and I don't blame him. That's a lot of material to deal with if something goes wrong. Which it didn't. We'll have a walkway to the front door cured in another week or so instead of the rebar and dobie obstacle course we'd had. (I tried and tried to find a visual for a dobie but I couldn't!) It feels like things are getting done in a timely manner, but that's probably because I'm not the one doing all the hard work & I'm not as aware as D. is of what must still be done.
I'm working on poems to send to the contest, and I think I have 2 or 3 candidates so far, but they'll need more work. I love the process of working on poetry so much.
Tonight is D's night out. I got the girls to bed before 9pm and am still awake a half hour later - unheard of for a Monday night! I'm trying to talk myself into doing a few more things before bed so I can sleep well all night instead of my usual Monday night routine: collapse into bed, set the alarm for 10pm, hit the snooze button for two hours, get up and work for an hour or two, go back to bed. That's just so wrong in so many ways.
The pet rat is keeping me company. We named her Beatrice. I suppose if I'd had a male too I would have named him Dante, but it somehow seems appropriate that Beatrice is here and Dante is somewhere else, distant from her.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Moolar loss
The rat still doesn't have a name. We're working on it.
The Tooth Fairy, however, goes by the name "Gwen" in our house. This comes from a long series of letters back and forth between R. and said fairy. I may have blogged about this. Maybe it's a good sign that I can't remember if I've written about this in the blog - it means I've written enough that I can't keep track of it and don't really care to search the history to find out. Okay, so maybe it's just a sign that I'm lazy.
R. lost her first "moolar" (as she called it in her note to Gwen) yesterday, and the Tooth Fairy, witty correspondent that she is (Illustrator, French Script font) said she'd add it to her collection. She said other things too. The kind of inane things a fairy says when it's 1:30am and she is sleep deprived and annoyed by the buzz of an iMac. I get so cynical after 10pm. Sorry.
Current pre-trip goals:
* Learn Japanese. My most recently learned phrase is, "Big is the opposite of small." It's oh-so-handy what a CD can teach you!
* Finish the oral history transcription. I worked on it from 2:00am-2:45 am this morning and had to force myself to stop and go to bed and get that extra 2 hours before the alarm went off. But I'm only about a fourth of the way through it and don't have a dictation machine so it's slow slow going.
* Create or polish my best 5 poems ever & submit them to the James Hearst Poetry Prize competition. Deadline: October 31st. Judge: Billy Collins. I can't count on Japan to inspire me to write the perfect submissions, so I should try to finish this before I go.
Meanwhile, I'm very happy. Busy and happy. Thank God for coffee - among all the other real profound blessings in my life.
The Tooth Fairy, however, goes by the name "Gwen" in our house. This comes from a long series of letters back and forth between R. and said fairy. I may have blogged about this. Maybe it's a good sign that I can't remember if I've written about this in the blog - it means I've written enough that I can't keep track of it and don't really care to search the history to find out. Okay, so maybe it's just a sign that I'm lazy.
R. lost her first "moolar" (as she called it in her note to Gwen) yesterday, and the Tooth Fairy, witty correspondent that she is (Illustrator, French Script font) said she'd add it to her collection. She said other things too. The kind of inane things a fairy says when it's 1:30am and she is sleep deprived and annoyed by the buzz of an iMac. I get so cynical after 10pm. Sorry.
Current pre-trip goals:
* Learn Japanese. My most recently learned phrase is, "Big is the opposite of small." It's oh-so-handy what a CD can teach you!
* Finish the oral history transcription. I worked on it from 2:00am-2:45 am this morning and had to force myself to stop and go to bed and get that extra 2 hours before the alarm went off. But I'm only about a fourth of the way through it and don't have a dictation machine so it's slow slow going.
* Create or polish my best 5 poems ever & submit them to the James Hearst Poetry Prize competition. Deadline: October 31st. Judge: Billy Collins. I can't count on Japan to inspire me to write the perfect submissions, so I should try to finish this before I go.
Meanwhile, I'm very happy. Busy and happy. Thank God for coffee - among all the other real profound blessings in my life.
Monday, September 27, 2004
The Newest Addition
It was another good weekend of getting things done around the house. Saturday morning, I took the dog on a long early walk, got my hair done, took R. to riding lessons, took the girls to a birthday party, and then worked on the yard. I convinced the family that dinner out at a Chinese restaurant would be good, and it was. Sunday I worked on cleaning the house, ran to the store, and came home long enough to grab my things and go (late as usual!) to my writer's group BIC ("butt-in-chair") time at the Apple Box. Had about an hour of writing, got home to do more chores, R. had a friend over & I ended up staying up too late to squeeze every bit of the weekend out of the weekend that I could.
I've started again transcribing my maternal grandmother's oral history. Not sure how I'll finish in 2 weeks, but I'm going to try to mark the centennial of her birth by completing this project & sending the written work (approximately 120 estimated pages!) to my siblings and mother.
And the really big news - especially if you are my children - is that this evening, we added a new pet to our family. My husband has had understandable concerns about not contributing more chaos to our lives and so is adamant that another pet such as a cat or dog would be a bad, bad idea. However, some time ago, he agreed that if I were to get myself a small pet that could be contained in a cage, he would be okay with that.
So here's how it went down.
We were out of dog food.
I think I've mentioned before that a trip to the pet store with children is a dangerous thing. I prepared my kids by saying, "Now, we're going to the pet store, and we can look at the little pets, but we are NOT going to get anything."
We looked at the birds. Very nice. And then either because I was heeding the small quiet cry of Destiny or because I'm an idiot, I said, "Let's look at the rats!" And you know what? Neither of my kids said, "Gee, Mom, maybe we shouldn't. We're not going to get any new pets anyway, and looking at them will just make us want one."
Anyway, there was a little gate barricading us from the room with the rats in it, so either because I am intimately in tune with Fate or because I'm insane, I said to one of the sales clerks, "Could we please look at the rats?"
And the whole time, I'm telling myself, "You're just looking."
This is how people end up driving fully loaded Lincoln Towncars off the lot. I'm sure of it.
The little VOICE OF TEMPTATION AND THE CAPITALIST PIG AMERICAN WAY OF LIFE devil on my shoulder was whispering, "Well, maybe if they have a female and she's young, and not the curly hair variety, and if she looks like she has a good disposition... D. did say you could get a rat. And you haven't had one for about 15 years and you deserve to have a rat if you want to. You're a good human being. You're responsible. You'll take care of it. It can be a Writer's Rat and sit on your shoulder while you compose poems that Billy Collins will read! It will keep you company while you stay up late learning Japanese or transcribing those tapes!"
And at the same time, the VOICE OF REASON, ENVIRONMENTAL RESPONSIBILITY, AND STRENGTH OF WILL was quietly saying, "But you can't anyway because it would be stupid and you told the kids you wouldn't and you shouldn't do anything to make you look like a liar or be inconsistent with them. Besides, it's bad timing to get a pet because you're going out of town so it would be one more thing to have to organize with the babysitter. And what if the dog wants to eat it? It'll cost a lot of money. And didn't you say you'd get a pet from a shelter? How can you get a baby rat from an overpriced pet store while meanwhile perfectly sweet adult rats are being put to sleep at shelters because no one will take them? What kind of message are you giving your daughters? What kind of impulsive person are you? Are you crazy? What if D. only says he doesn't care, but a month from now he moves to Tahiti with a cute little brunette named Bambi and in his parting note to you he says, "I would have stuck it out with you if it weren't for that rat." ?
There was one female in the litter. She was very sweet. She had been handled by people since her eyes opened, and you could tell she'd been handled gently.
We put her back. We bought our dog food. We left the store.
S. was saying, "I want a rat! Please can I have a rat? Please?" and R., bless her heart, said, "Maybe when Mom gets back from her trip, okay?" and then she did a silly pratfall to make S. laugh - even though I knew that R. wanted that rat as much as I did, and that I did as much as S. did. The devil on my shoulder was having the same tantrum S. was having, and the little voice of reason angel was being so damn self-righteous and smug it made me hate myself.
We drove home. The pet store closed in 25 minutes. I knew this because I'd asked what time they closed. I called D. He stayed neutral, but when I said it seemed like a silly expense, he pointed out that we already had containers to house the rat & that money shouldn't be the thing that decided it for me. But he let me decide. I paced, talking to him out of earshot of the kids, who had already let it go. I checked out the acrylic tank we had to put the rat in. I looked at where it might go in the office. Metaphorically speaking, a scuffle broke out on my shoulders between the warring factions. Then, 15 minutes before the store closed, I gagged the angel of reason and said to the girls, "Well, you'd better get your shoes on and get to the car if you want to get that rat!"
They didn't really need their shoes on. Their feet didn't touch the ground between when we left the house and when they went to bed.
I've started again transcribing my maternal grandmother's oral history. Not sure how I'll finish in 2 weeks, but I'm going to try to mark the centennial of her birth by completing this project & sending the written work (approximately 120 estimated pages!) to my siblings and mother.
And the really big news - especially if you are my children - is that this evening, we added a new pet to our family. My husband has had understandable concerns about not contributing more chaos to our lives and so is adamant that another pet such as a cat or dog would be a bad, bad idea. However, some time ago, he agreed that if I were to get myself a small pet that could be contained in a cage, he would be okay with that.
So here's how it went down.
We were out of dog food.
I think I've mentioned before that a trip to the pet store with children is a dangerous thing. I prepared my kids by saying, "Now, we're going to the pet store, and we can look at the little pets, but we are NOT going to get anything."
We looked at the birds. Very nice. And then either because I was heeding the small quiet cry of Destiny or because I'm an idiot, I said, "Let's look at the rats!" And you know what? Neither of my kids said, "Gee, Mom, maybe we shouldn't. We're not going to get any new pets anyway, and looking at them will just make us want one."
Anyway, there was a little gate barricading us from the room with the rats in it, so either because I am intimately in tune with Fate or because I'm insane, I said to one of the sales clerks, "Could we please look at the rats?"
And the whole time, I'm telling myself, "You're just looking."
This is how people end up driving fully loaded Lincoln Towncars off the lot. I'm sure of it.
The little VOICE OF TEMPTATION AND THE CAPITALIST PIG AMERICAN WAY OF LIFE devil on my shoulder was whispering, "Well, maybe if they have a female and she's young, and not the curly hair variety, and if she looks like she has a good disposition... D. did say you could get a rat. And you haven't had one for about 15 years and you deserve to have a rat if you want to. You're a good human being. You're responsible. You'll take care of it. It can be a Writer's Rat and sit on your shoulder while you compose poems that Billy Collins will read! It will keep you company while you stay up late learning Japanese or transcribing those tapes!"
And at the same time, the VOICE OF REASON, ENVIRONMENTAL RESPONSIBILITY, AND STRENGTH OF WILL was quietly saying, "But you can't anyway because it would be stupid and you told the kids you wouldn't and you shouldn't do anything to make you look like a liar or be inconsistent with them. Besides, it's bad timing to get a pet because you're going out of town so it would be one more thing to have to organize with the babysitter. And what if the dog wants to eat it? It'll cost a lot of money. And didn't you say you'd get a pet from a shelter? How can you get a baby rat from an overpriced pet store while meanwhile perfectly sweet adult rats are being put to sleep at shelters because no one will take them? What kind of message are you giving your daughters? What kind of impulsive person are you? Are you crazy? What if D. only says he doesn't care, but a month from now he moves to Tahiti with a cute little brunette named Bambi and in his parting note to you he says, "I would have stuck it out with you if it weren't for that rat." ?
There was one female in the litter. She was very sweet. She had been handled by people since her eyes opened, and you could tell she'd been handled gently.
We put her back. We bought our dog food. We left the store.
S. was saying, "I want a rat! Please can I have a rat? Please?" and R., bless her heart, said, "Maybe when Mom gets back from her trip, okay?" and then she did a silly pratfall to make S. laugh - even though I knew that R. wanted that rat as much as I did, and that I did as much as S. did. The devil on my shoulder was having the same tantrum S. was having, and the little voice of reason angel was being so damn self-righteous and smug it made me hate myself.
We drove home. The pet store closed in 25 minutes. I knew this because I'd asked what time they closed. I called D. He stayed neutral, but when I said it seemed like a silly expense, he pointed out that we already had containers to house the rat & that money shouldn't be the thing that decided it for me. But he let me decide. I paced, talking to him out of earshot of the kids, who had already let it go. I checked out the acrylic tank we had to put the rat in. I looked at where it might go in the office. Metaphorically speaking, a scuffle broke out on my shoulders between the warring factions. Then, 15 minutes before the store closed, I gagged the angel of reason and said to the girls, "Well, you'd better get your shoes on and get to the car if you want to get that rat!"
They didn't really need their shoes on. Their feet didn't touch the ground between when we left the house and when they went to bed.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Winey post
Brutal, brutal day at work, followed by a couple of hours with the kids and then a party for a coworker who just got married. I'm home and it's not yet 10pm but feels like midnight.
I have a couple of glasses of red wine in me, so I'm relaxed and a little dopey (but not, of course, too dopey to have driven home from the party). I should think of it as the weekend starting early, although I have plenty more on my to-do list to do before Saturday morning really comes. Danged to-do list.
It's probably dangerous to post anything that I think is important at the moment, because it's likely to be highly influenced by the wine.
I'm not a mean drunk. I am a garrulous gluttonous drunk. I have a very low tolerance for alcohol. One glass of wine gets me a little dizzy and unable to move my eyes fast enough to keep up with my head when I turn it. But I talk. And eat. Two glasses of wine makes me downright silly while I talk and eat more. (But I drove home okay. Really.) I don't drink often. Also, if I drink alone, I'm a very paranoid drunk. The world seems a hostile place; alcohol opens doors in the fences in my brain where I keep the demons at bay. I'm not talking about some sort of metaphoric guilty conscience or bad memories. Or wait. Maybe I am. But mostly, I'm talking about drinking wine or a hard cider alone at night and then having the conviction that there are local hooligans or drugged-out neighbors or kitchen knives possessed by the force of evil, and whatever goodness and light I harbor may not be enough to fight them off.
This is where I say that:
A) I'm part of that generation of 30-something who saw Rosemary's Baby and The Exorcist and Amyteville Horror and The Omen at way, way too impressionable an age. It would have been better if I hadn't seen such things until I was older - somewhere around two or three years after NEVER.
and
B) Here are 10 things I would rather think about (and perhaps therefore give power to) than the above bad stuff:
1) finding what's been lost (two 8mm video tapes D. & I had torn up the house looking for, which showed up among my grandmother's oral history tapes, safe & sound)
2) my 10 year old wanting to wear a special hand-made frock from the Czech Republic tomorrow for a field trip to the local "Ag Day" because that's short for "Agricultural Day" and the dress if from another culture. (This after I've tried to trick her into wearing it for 3 family holidays to no avail). I'm glad she'll wear it. She'll probably get cow dung on the Eastern European cross stitch, but she'll be wearing it.
3) my 5 year old's conversations with all her toys in the bathtub
4) the lavender I planted in the front yard
5) red wine :)
6) mnemonics. Here are some of the many I've developed for learning Japanese:
-the word for "not yet" sounds like murder ("mada"), as in "I hope that murder is something that I will always be able to say I have not yet done."
-the word for "good night" ("Oyasumi nasai") starts with "Oh yeah!" as in "oh yeah, that's how it starts. Silly, but it works.
-one of the words for seven is "nana" and my Nana has passed away and is therefore somwhere that rhymes with seven
-"to leave behind" is "nokoshimasu" and when we go to Japan we will leave the kids behind. Kids in Japanese is "kodomo" (I just remember that one), and so I think "no" they're not with us "ko" short for "kodomo" and "shi" which is pronounced like the English "she." Our kids are girls ("she" not "he") so to leave behind is no-ko-shi with the usual "-masu" ending. Long and involved, but it works.
7) good poetry
8) good chemistry
9) Autumn will come every year whether I'm here to see it or not
10) I'm currently here to see it.
I have a couple of glasses of red wine in me, so I'm relaxed and a little dopey (but not, of course, too dopey to have driven home from the party). I should think of it as the weekend starting early, although I have plenty more on my to-do list to do before Saturday morning really comes. Danged to-do list.
It's probably dangerous to post anything that I think is important at the moment, because it's likely to be highly influenced by the wine.
I'm not a mean drunk. I am a garrulous gluttonous drunk. I have a very low tolerance for alcohol. One glass of wine gets me a little dizzy and unable to move my eyes fast enough to keep up with my head when I turn it. But I talk. And eat. Two glasses of wine makes me downright silly while I talk and eat more. (But I drove home okay. Really.) I don't drink often. Also, if I drink alone, I'm a very paranoid drunk. The world seems a hostile place; alcohol opens doors in the fences in my brain where I keep the demons at bay. I'm not talking about some sort of metaphoric guilty conscience or bad memories. Or wait. Maybe I am. But mostly, I'm talking about drinking wine or a hard cider alone at night and then having the conviction that there are local hooligans or drugged-out neighbors or kitchen knives possessed by the force of evil, and whatever goodness and light I harbor may not be enough to fight them off.
This is where I say that:
A) I'm part of that generation of 30-something who saw Rosemary's Baby and The Exorcist and Amyteville Horror and The Omen at way, way too impressionable an age. It would have been better if I hadn't seen such things until I was older - somewhere around two or three years after NEVER.
and
B) Here are 10 things I would rather think about (and perhaps therefore give power to) than the above bad stuff:
1) finding what's been lost (two 8mm video tapes D. & I had torn up the house looking for, which showed up among my grandmother's oral history tapes, safe & sound)
2) my 10 year old wanting to wear a special hand-made frock from the Czech Republic tomorrow for a field trip to the local "Ag Day" because that's short for "Agricultural Day" and the dress if from another culture. (This after I've tried to trick her into wearing it for 3 family holidays to no avail). I'm glad she'll wear it. She'll probably get cow dung on the Eastern European cross stitch, but she'll be wearing it.
3) my 5 year old's conversations with all her toys in the bathtub
4) the lavender I planted in the front yard
5) red wine :)
6) mnemonics. Here are some of the many I've developed for learning Japanese:
-the word for "not yet" sounds like murder ("mada"), as in "I hope that murder is something that I will always be able to say I have not yet done."
-the word for "good night" ("Oyasumi nasai") starts with "Oh yeah!" as in "oh yeah, that's how it starts. Silly, but it works.
-one of the words for seven is "nana" and my Nana has passed away and is therefore somwhere that rhymes with seven
-"to leave behind" is "nokoshimasu" and when we go to Japan we will leave the kids behind. Kids in Japanese is "kodomo" (I just remember that one), and so I think "no" they're not with us "ko" short for "kodomo" and "shi" which is pronounced like the English "she." Our kids are girls ("she" not "he") so to leave behind is no-ko-shi with the usual "-masu" ending. Long and involved, but it works.
7) good poetry
8) good chemistry
9) Autumn will come every year whether I'm here to see it or not
10) I'm currently here to see it.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Sept. 18, 2004
My goal to write daily has been met so far. Thursday was the blog, of course. Friday I took the day off work in part to go to a workshop led by Ellen Bass. It was a inspiring workshop, and she is a good poet and a good person - gentle and thoughtful, but also with a sharp wit and keen ability as a teacher. She teaches creative writing in Santa Cruz, and apparently has done so since 1974. She spoke about "The Poem of the Moment," and she gave us some examples. She also had each of us try to start such a poem our own, at the end of the workshop. There were so many people in the room, about a dozen of us were sitting on the floor. I had a corner of a table to kneel at while I wrote.
I wrote a poem about telling R. about menstruation (the event itself is recorded in my 7/21/04 blog entry). And I was one of a few people who read their poems to the group. People laughed loudly at the right spots, which was gratifying. And Ellen said "Good work," among other nice things. But better than everyone's reaction was the fact that I wrote something new, and with some more work, I can add it to my collection of poems that are about life in general. (The other poems are about, or inspired by, role-playing games). And Ellen provided me with another look at what happens if you write poetry and send it out into the world and try to improve. I wouldn't mind having the awards and grants and recognition and publications under my belt that she has under hers. I have about twenty years to get there, I figure. "Lord willing and the creeks don't rise."
I also finished reading my neighbor's novel and wrote up a critique and got it all back to her (500+ pages of her double-space manuscript and 4 single-spaced pages of my comments and observations and suggestions). Phew! Glad to have fulfilled that obligation.
And I got a good start on cleaning out the house one corner at a time. Worked on our closet tonight. Threw out such things as the empty jacket for Heart's Little Queen LP and a slew of old AAA travel magazines. If we want to go somewhere, we'll look it up online.
I had thought I would go to bed but got a second wind. This after a day of running errands, horse-back riding lessons for R., a party for 3 hours and digging in the adobe for another 2 hours. I just feel energized. Or maybe the word I'm looking for is "manic."
(But at any rate, Clare, you'll be happy to know that I'm living more and more outside of my mind and in the present, where it's oh-so-nice to be.)
Here's a link to an Ellen Bass poem about praying in everything you do. K & B, please note the reference to riding the bus. You see how riding the bus really is very important in the whole scheme of things. It is not necessary to make fun of certain role-playing characters for liking to take public transportation. Public transportation is cool.
End of random thoughts for the day. I also worked on the new poem, earlier, and updated my "fitness" blog, so I met my goal again today.
I wrote a poem about telling R. about menstruation (the event itself is recorded in my 7/21/04 blog entry). And I was one of a few people who read their poems to the group. People laughed loudly at the right spots, which was gratifying. And Ellen said "Good work," among other nice things. But better than everyone's reaction was the fact that I wrote something new, and with some more work, I can add it to my collection of poems that are about life in general. (The other poems are about, or inspired by, role-playing games). And Ellen provided me with another look at what happens if you write poetry and send it out into the world and try to improve. I wouldn't mind having the awards and grants and recognition and publications under my belt that she has under hers. I have about twenty years to get there, I figure. "Lord willing and the creeks don't rise."
I also finished reading my neighbor's novel and wrote up a critique and got it all back to her (500+ pages of her double-space manuscript and 4 single-spaced pages of my comments and observations and suggestions). Phew! Glad to have fulfilled that obligation.
And I got a good start on cleaning out the house one corner at a time. Worked on our closet tonight. Threw out such things as the empty jacket for Heart's Little Queen LP and a slew of old AAA travel magazines. If we want to go somewhere, we'll look it up online.
I had thought I would go to bed but got a second wind. This after a day of running errands, horse-back riding lessons for R., a party for 3 hours and digging in the adobe for another 2 hours. I just feel energized. Or maybe the word I'm looking for is "manic."
(But at any rate, Clare, you'll be happy to know that I'm living more and more outside of my mind and in the present, where it's oh-so-nice to be.)
Here's a link to an Ellen Bass poem about praying in everything you do. K & B, please note the reference to riding the bus. You see how riding the bus really is very important in the whole scheme of things. It is not necessary to make fun of certain role-playing characters for liking to take public transportation. Public transportation is cool.
End of random thoughts for the day. I also worked on the new poem, earlier, and updated my "fitness" blog, so I met my goal again today.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Sept. 16, 2004
D's 40th birthday. We went out to dinner - sushi, of course. I just spent the last hour working on a poem. D. is playing Parasite Eve and having a birthday hot chocolate.
I believe 9pm - 10pm will have to be my set writing time, although again (working on the poem) I fell asleep with my fingers on the keyboard. Repeatedly.
Time for some zzzzz's. But here's the poem - rewritten for the 5th time, originally composed around June 1998, and maybe still not quite there!
McClure's Beach
We walked the length of it
until rocks checked our progress, and wind
had crusted our hair with salty grit.
Then we turned and trudged back,
once more past kelp that had been coughed up
in cold tangles by the waves.
Our daughter was tired but too tired to know it.
She kicked when I carried her, went limp
in the sand when I put her down to walk.
I thought the steep hill to the gravel lot
was all we had left to conquer.
But at a stream flowing thinly into the sea,
my husband stopped, announced:
"I've got to do it."
No sticks at hand, he used his boots
to crumble and crush the shallow banks
and smudge lines it had taken gravity and tide
uncounted hours to make. He found rocks,
lay them in the water to displace the hapless stream.
Our child whined and tugged at me;
both of us dismayed
by his need to redefine the land's borders
to change courses to the sea.
I believe 9pm - 10pm will have to be my set writing time, although again (working on the poem) I fell asleep with my fingers on the keyboard. Repeatedly.
Time for some zzzzz's. But here's the poem - rewritten for the 5th time, originally composed around June 1998, and maybe still not quite there!
McClure's Beach
We walked the length of it
until rocks checked our progress, and wind
had crusted our hair with salty grit.
Then we turned and trudged back,
once more past kelp that had been coughed up
in cold tangles by the waves.
Our daughter was tired but too tired to know it.
She kicked when I carried her, went limp
in the sand when I put her down to walk.
I thought the steep hill to the gravel lot
was all we had left to conquer.
But at a stream flowing thinly into the sea,
my husband stopped, announced:
"I've got to do it."
No sticks at hand, he used his boots
to crumble and crush the shallow banks
and smudge lines it had taken gravity and tide
uncounted hours to make. He found rocks,
lay them in the water to displace the hapless stream.
Our child whined and tugged at me;
both of us dismayed
by his need to redefine the land's borders
to change courses to the sea.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Slide
There’s been nothing huge in my life that has kept me from blogging. I just stopped making it a priority for a week. And look what happened. Slide, slide, slide. I’m not beating myself up. I’m making an observation. Writing is long-term important to me, and I don’t want to drop it for other things that are important for the moment. The damn laundry can wait another half hour. The kids’ dinner can’t, but the laundry can. For example.
About two years ago, I went to a sales training seminar through work. It was a frightening experience. It could have been worse, I suppose. But it was bad enough. There was much talk about MOTIVATION!! and SETTING GOALS!! and GETTING THE CUSTOMER TO SAY YES!! - that sort of thing.
What I took away from it – besides a renewed conviction that I’m not a sales person at heart – is the understanding that I could fake it if I have to, and the realization that what I learned could be applied to different areas in my life. So I have set goals and have seen them attained. Being a published poet. Running a marathon (I’ve run 2 half marathons – does that count?). Getting a new car. All have happened since I went to that seminar. I have also become closer to my family – another goal I set at the time.
So I’m going to make a new goal that I feel I can keep. The goal is this:
WRITE EVERY DAY.
Wow! What a unique idea! However, self-mockery aside, 9/15/2004 is as good a day as any to start. In fact, if every day I said, “I’m going to write every day!” and every day I did it, that would work, wouldn’t it? It works for recovering alcoholics to take it one day at a time.
Maybe my daily writing won't be a blog entry, but certainly it will be fiction or poetry or journaling in earnest. Not “today had tea with the Smiths” diary entries. Real journals, like the blog is able to be. I think I’ll add long and well-written letters (not email) to the list of qualifying writing, too.
I’m beating Julia to it and daring myself. And anyone reading this is my witness.
What this means, of course, is that I must honestly MAKE TIME to write. Ideally the same time every day, but I won’t worry too much about that right now.
I bought a beautiful little journal to write in when I’m in Japan next month. I can’t wait to fill it up.
About two years ago, I went to a sales training seminar through work. It was a frightening experience. It could have been worse, I suppose. But it was bad enough. There was much talk about MOTIVATION!! and SETTING GOALS!! and GETTING THE CUSTOMER TO SAY YES!! - that sort of thing.
What I took away from it – besides a renewed conviction that I’m not a sales person at heart – is the understanding that I could fake it if I have to, and the realization that what I learned could be applied to different areas in my life. So I have set goals and have seen them attained. Being a published poet. Running a marathon (I’ve run 2 half marathons – does that count?). Getting a new car. All have happened since I went to that seminar. I have also become closer to my family – another goal I set at the time.
So I’m going to make a new goal that I feel I can keep. The goal is this:
WRITE EVERY DAY.
Wow! What a unique idea! However, self-mockery aside, 9/15/2004 is as good a day as any to start. In fact, if every day I said, “I’m going to write every day!” and every day I did it, that would work, wouldn’t it? It works for recovering alcoholics to take it one day at a time.
Maybe my daily writing won't be a blog entry, but certainly it will be fiction or poetry or journaling in earnest. Not “today had tea with the Smiths” diary entries. Real journals, like the blog is able to be. I think I’ll add long and well-written letters (not email) to the list of qualifying writing, too.
I’m beating Julia to it and daring myself. And anyone reading this is my witness.
What this means, of course, is that I must honestly MAKE TIME to write. Ideally the same time every day, but I won’t worry too much about that right now.
I bought a beautiful little journal to write in when I’m in Japan next month. I can’t wait to fill it up.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Sept. 7th, 2004
A good, long weekend. The girls and I went to a "soup party" Friday night at a friend's house. She put on a pot of soup and the guests provided bread and wine. All the kids there played like sweaty rabid animals. At one point, another mom and I were watching the pack of them race around screaming, and she said with calm consideration, "You know, it's really like Lord of the Flies." And I nodded and said, "Yes. That's what it reminds me of."
Saturday R. had a riding lesson and then a slumber party and S. and D. and I did some shopping at a Macy's - a real department store - something I haven't done in years. I'm so used to going the cheaper route. But fortunately, no one was playing a piano by the escalator. I have a REAL problem with grand pianos in department stores. They make me laugh uncontrollably. Even though I'm sure it offends the pianist, I can't stop myself. It's just somehow so wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Am I the only one who feels this way?
I'll try to put into words what's wrong about this. Certainly, part of it is the seriousness with which the businesses take themselves. But beyond that, it's like Nordstroms (or whoever) is saying, "Here. Please spend lots of money at our store. We'll entertain you with classy live music so you can feel like it's a privilege or some kind of culturally enlightening experience to part with your paycheck for clothes that you don't need made for pennies by third-world workers under horrible conditions. You can listen to a little Chopin while you propagate inequality. And by the way, that color looks great on you."
Okay. I'm off that soapbox. Thanks for listening. As I was saying: we made it out of Macy's with the purchases we needed. I had a moderate case of consumerism. But I got better.
Sunday I went for a long run with the dog - well, as long as he could handle it - after 3 miles, the poor thing had to feign a lame back right leg to get me to just walk, for heaven's sake. I guess a fur coat in 120 degree temperature is a little bit of a challenge, even if you're part sled dog.
I got R. from the slumber party, stopped at the grocery store, and got home with just enough time to turn around again and get the babysitter so D. & I could go to a swanky wedding in the Rotunda at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco. It was pretty magical: we were early. We found free parking. We were dressed appropriately. We found the reception just fine (at the Golden Gate Club at the Presidio) and the parking was also free there. The bride and groom were as happy as could be. The food was wonderful, the company was pleasant, and the weather was perfect. Scary.
Monday I slept late and spent some writing time downtown with the writer's group, then D. went off to game and the girls and I spent the rest of the afternoon into the night moving S. back to the room that used to be hers and had become the playroom. This meant moving large pieces of furniture in the 120 degree heat, and a thorough re-examination and R&D testing by the girls of every rediscovered toy under said furniture. I finished everything except the dishes, read half of my neighbor's novel copy, and slept.
Must now look at what I'll bring to our writer's group meeting tomorrow. Another very positive bit of news - just got an email from the editor of the American Poetry Journal asking if he could include another one of my poems in the next issue. Golly. This is a good thing. I said yes. I'm more pleased with this one than the last one he published, but I'm really tickled pink that the last one wasn't just a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Hooray!
Saturday R. had a riding lesson and then a slumber party and S. and D. and I did some shopping at a Macy's - a real department store - something I haven't done in years. I'm so used to going the cheaper route. But fortunately, no one was playing a piano by the escalator. I have a REAL problem with grand pianos in department stores. They make me laugh uncontrollably. Even though I'm sure it offends the pianist, I can't stop myself. It's just somehow so wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Am I the only one who feels this way?
I'll try to put into words what's wrong about this. Certainly, part of it is the seriousness with which the businesses take themselves. But beyond that, it's like Nordstroms (or whoever) is saying, "Here. Please spend lots of money at our store. We'll entertain you with classy live music so you can feel like it's a privilege or some kind of culturally enlightening experience to part with your paycheck for clothes that you don't need made for pennies by third-world workers under horrible conditions. You can listen to a little Chopin while you propagate inequality. And by the way, that color looks great on you."
Okay. I'm off that soapbox. Thanks for listening. As I was saying: we made it out of Macy's with the purchases we needed. I had a moderate case of consumerism. But I got better.
Sunday I went for a long run with the dog - well, as long as he could handle it - after 3 miles, the poor thing had to feign a lame back right leg to get me to just walk, for heaven's sake. I guess a fur coat in 120 degree temperature is a little bit of a challenge, even if you're part sled dog.
I got R. from the slumber party, stopped at the grocery store, and got home with just enough time to turn around again and get the babysitter so D. & I could go to a swanky wedding in the Rotunda at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco. It was pretty magical: we were early. We found free parking. We were dressed appropriately. We found the reception just fine (at the Golden Gate Club at the Presidio) and the parking was also free there. The bride and groom were as happy as could be. The food was wonderful, the company was pleasant, and the weather was perfect. Scary.
Monday I slept late and spent some writing time downtown with the writer's group, then D. went off to game and the girls and I spent the rest of the afternoon into the night moving S. back to the room that used to be hers and had become the playroom. This meant moving large pieces of furniture in the 120 degree heat, and a thorough re-examination and R&D testing by the girls of every rediscovered toy under said furniture. I finished everything except the dishes, read half of my neighbor's novel copy, and slept.
Must now look at what I'll bring to our writer's group meeting tomorrow. Another very positive bit of news - just got an email from the editor of the American Poetry Journal asking if he could include another one of my poems in the next issue. Golly. This is a good thing. I said yes. I'm more pleased with this one than the last one he published, but I'm really tickled pink that the last one wasn't just a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Hooray!
Friday, September 03, 2004
Sept. 3, 2004
So I missed a couple of days of blogging and reading blogs. I'm still trying to shake strep, and have followed my traditional pattern of doing too much too soon and suffering the consequences. Plus, apparently the penicillin didn't do diddly against the tough little bacteria I'm hosting. Yesterday, I was put on another antibiotic. Should see results soonish. I hope! I look forward to the day when I can swallow without wincing or even noticing I'm swallowing. Once again, I'm in awe of people who go through life with chronic illnesses and maintain a positive attitude.
Please note that I have added a link to Clare's blog. I highly recommend a visit there. Clare is a deep thinker and a great friend – and she manages to write while mothering twin one-year-olds and 5 year old. True, she’s not home-schooling seven children but it’s close. (Thanks to Julia – another blogger you should read – for the link).
Please note that I have added a link to Clare's blog. I highly recommend a visit there. Clare is a deep thinker and a great friend – and she manages to write while mothering twin one-year-olds and 5 year old. True, she’s not home-schooling seven children but it’s close. (Thanks to Julia – another blogger you should read – for the link).
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
August 31, 2004
While I did not complete and send out my chapbook manuscript, I did compile the poems I'd like to put into that first chapbook. And I put together and sent out 5 poems to a reputable national poetry journal. I dropped them off in the post office slot at 9:50pm. Phew.
In the meantime, I see my work as so doggone juvenile, limited and/or self-indulgent. This is not me fishing. This is me saying I need to read more, broaden my vocabulary and subject matter, extend my voice and lengthen but tighten my poems. I don't think I'll get too obscure and academic and intentionally inaccessible, but I do need to move closer to something that can hold its own among the well-known poets in the country today. And dang, there are a LOT of those!
I realize this sounds awfully egotistical, the thought that I could reach that level. But if I don't believe my poetry will ever afford me a reputation and respect among peers, what are the chances that it will all on its own, without me thinking it could happen?
Tired, now. Still suffering from strep (can feel it at night), and last night I didn't really sleep. I played the "I'll set the alarm for an hour from now and get up and write" game from 11pm-2am. After D. got home, I told myself I'd get up at 4:30am and write. Then it was 5. Then I barely made it to work on time after all. So tonight, I'll try for a full (or almost full) 6 hours of sleep.
In the meantime, I see my work as so doggone juvenile, limited and/or self-indulgent. This is not me fishing. This is me saying I need to read more, broaden my vocabulary and subject matter, extend my voice and lengthen but tighten my poems. I don't think I'll get too obscure and academic and intentionally inaccessible, but I do need to move closer to something that can hold its own among the well-known poets in the country today. And dang, there are a LOT of those!
I realize this sounds awfully egotistical, the thought that I could reach that level. But if I don't believe my poetry will ever afford me a reputation and respect among peers, what are the chances that it will all on its own, without me thinking it could happen?
Tired, now. Still suffering from strep (can feel it at night), and last night I didn't really sleep. I played the "I'll set the alarm for an hour from now and get up and write" game from 11pm-2am. After D. got home, I told myself I'd get up at 4:30am and write. Then it was 5. Then I barely made it to work on time after all. So tonight, I'll try for a full (or almost full) 6 hours of sleep.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
August 29, 2004
I turned 38 yesterday. The first thing I did was sleep past 7:30am. Then I roused myself and went out to get a latte and a haircut. I came back from the haircut to learn that the hospital had called to say that I have strep throat. So mid-day, I ran up to the hospital pharmacy and got antibiotics.
Later, I picked up a babysitter and D. and I went out to dinner. We tried a new sushi joint. Very nice. Afterwards, we walked downtown and browsed in the local bookstore together. We haven't just wandered and browsed like that in a long time. Wandering and browsing is what cows and horses and the gatherer contingent of the hunter/gatherer tribes do. We are usually more the racing and collapsing types. Or I am, anyway. D. actually has a great gift for relaxing. I could learn from him. If I stopped in one place long enough.
But the birthday was peaceful. I hung out, I napped. I did little. It was good.
And today was good, too. Slept even later. Did very little until I met the writer's group for coffee and butt-in-chair writing time. Still working on the poems. Deciding which to send out in a chapbook, and to whom, and when.
Something will go out by the end of the month - Tuesday! - anyway.
Later, I picked up a babysitter and D. and I went out to dinner. We tried a new sushi joint. Very nice. Afterwards, we walked downtown and browsed in the local bookstore together. We haven't just wandered and browsed like that in a long time. Wandering and browsing is what cows and horses and the gatherer contingent of the hunter/gatherer tribes do. We are usually more the racing and collapsing types. Or I am, anyway. D. actually has a great gift for relaxing. I could learn from him. If I stopped in one place long enough.
But the birthday was peaceful. I hung out, I napped. I did little. It was good.
And today was good, too. Slept even later. Did very little until I met the writer's group for coffee and butt-in-chair writing time. Still working on the poems. Deciding which to send out in a chapbook, and to whom, and when.
Something will go out by the end of the month - Tuesday! - anyway.
Friday, August 27, 2004
Birthday Eve
I didn't post last night because I couldn't swallow without the kind of pain that made me long for the good old days of childbirth. I'm better this morning, but since I've had this sore throat off and on for a couple of weeks with really no other cold-like symptoms and no fever, I guess I'll call the doctor and have them stick a giant q-tip down my gullet to see what's going on. The no-fever symptom doesn't really count for much in my book because I usually run below normal.
(Unlike my husband, who always runs a temp. slightly above normal, and for a while was able to trick school nurses into calling his mom and sending him home.)
I'm at work, and must catch up - so no greater note than this for now. It's my last day as a 37 year old. Puts me in mind of this Bill Collins poem:
On Turning Ten
The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.
But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.
This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.
It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.
-- Billy Collins
(Unlike my husband, who always runs a temp. slightly above normal, and for a while was able to trick school nurses into calling his mom and sending him home.)
I'm at work, and must catch up - so no greater note than this for now. It's my last day as a 37 year old. Puts me in mind of this Bill Collins poem:
On Turning Ten
The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.
But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.
This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.
It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.
-- Billy Collins
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Welcome Clare
I'm happy to see that Clare has JOINED US and is now blogging. Mwah-ha-ha! There's no stopping The Blog now. It will encompass the whole world -- or The Whole Entire World as Julia's heroic character would say (as in, "I have to save the whole entire world!")
Thank God as much as my job may demand of me - even on my "vacation days" (when I had 4-7 pages or calls a day), at least I don't have to save the world. As Sarah Connor put it, "Do I look like the mother of the future? I mean, am I tough, organized? I can't even balance my checkbook!"
The girls survived their first day of school. And I'm happy to report that so did their teachers. R's class of 18 has 11 BOYS. I want you to imagine instructing a drunk baker's shy-by-one dozen boys between the ages of 9 and 11. Okay, now stop. You should see your face.
And it's not like the girls in the class are sweet quiet demure little things. They can hold their own. They are tough, healthy girls. The kind that are pretty but dangerous. Yeah. That kind.
S.'s Kindergarten consists of playing, singing, hearing a story, playing, taking a walk, and playing. Except that it's a survivalist kind of playing. They have as toys things like metal shovels and a water pump. They will be carding wool tomorrow to sew into a pillow. I asked S. what they did today and she said with great excitement, "I got to wash my own dishes!"
I think the school will be good for me...er, for her.
Thank God as much as my job may demand of me - even on my "vacation days" (when I had 4-7 pages or calls a day), at least I don't have to save the world. As Sarah Connor put it, "Do I look like the mother of the future? I mean, am I tough, organized? I can't even balance my checkbook!"
The girls survived their first day of school. And I'm happy to report that so did their teachers. R's class of 18 has 11 BOYS. I want you to imagine instructing a drunk baker's shy-by-one dozen boys between the ages of 9 and 11. Okay, now stop. You should see your face.
And it's not like the girls in the class are sweet quiet demure little things. They can hold their own. They are tough, healthy girls. The kind that are pretty but dangerous. Yeah. That kind.
S.'s Kindergarten consists of playing, singing, hearing a story, playing, taking a walk, and playing. Except that it's a survivalist kind of playing. They have as toys things like metal shovels and a water pump. They will be carding wool tomorrow to sew into a pillow. I asked S. what they did today and she said with great excitement, "I got to wash my own dishes!"
I think the school will be good for me...er, for her.
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
August 24, 2004
Today was a wholly domestic day. I am tired but feel pretty good about what I accomplished, especially considering I didn't get dressed until after 10am.
By then I'd already taken 2 calls from work and had done a number of chores including getting the girls fed & ready to face a day of shopping for school and other school-starts-tomorrow type activities.
Did I mention that school starts tomorrow?
Both children will be in the same school, only a mile from our house. S. will be in Kindergarten. R. will be in 4th grade. I know I'm more excited about it than they are. Even as tired as I am.
I stayed up late sewing a little apron for S., according to the teacher's cryptic written instructions to all Kindergarten parents. (I pity anyone who attempted it who hasn't sewed much before. ) One side will be worn facing out during cooking, and the other during art. This is a Waldorf-inspired school, after all. With two years of kindergarten and no reading this first year. Although we're working on that at home anyway.
The girls have new lunch boxes, new shoes and some new clothes. They worked together to make their lunches this afternoon, after we got back from a massive Costco trip that it will take me a month to pay off. Good think I bought a month's worth of groceries. Or thereabouts.
Tomorrow I am taking the day off again, and there's the potential (if I get fewer work calls than I did today) that I'll have about 2 hours to work on my poetry.
My current goal: entering a chapbook competition. The postmark deadline is the end of the month. I have the poems - enough, I think. But I need to decide which to use and put them all together. And post some of my newer ones to the lists I belong to for critiques.
On another note, I started to learn Hiragana today. We leave for Japan in 8 and a half weeks. I'm starting to dream about having incomprehensible conversations with Japanese people. In my dreams, I don't understand what I'm saying to them.
And neither do they.
By then I'd already taken 2 calls from work and had done a number of chores including getting the girls fed & ready to face a day of shopping for school and other school-starts-tomorrow type activities.
Did I mention that school starts tomorrow?
Both children will be in the same school, only a mile from our house. S. will be in Kindergarten. R. will be in 4th grade. I know I'm more excited about it than they are. Even as tired as I am.
I stayed up late sewing a little apron for S., according to the teacher's cryptic written instructions to all Kindergarten parents. (I pity anyone who attempted it who hasn't sewed much before. ) One side will be worn facing out during cooking, and the other during art. This is a Waldorf-inspired school, after all. With two years of kindergarten and no reading this first year. Although we're working on that at home anyway.
The girls have new lunch boxes, new shoes and some new clothes. They worked together to make their lunches this afternoon, after we got back from a massive Costco trip that it will take me a month to pay off. Good think I bought a month's worth of groceries. Or thereabouts.
Tomorrow I am taking the day off again, and there's the potential (if I get fewer work calls than I did today) that I'll have about 2 hours to work on my poetry.
My current goal: entering a chapbook competition. The postmark deadline is the end of the month. I have the poems - enough, I think. But I need to decide which to use and put them all together. And post some of my newer ones to the lists I belong to for critiques.
On another note, I started to learn Hiragana today. We leave for Japan in 8 and a half weeks. I'm starting to dream about having incomprehensible conversations with Japanese people. In my dreams, I don't understand what I'm saying to them.
And neither do they.
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