love and a steady hand
Read/Post Comments (0)
Today's subject line comes from Dar Williams's "If I Wrote You," which has been running through my head the past couple of days:
We drew our arms around the bastard sons,
We never would drink to the chosen ones,
Well you know the way I left was not the way I planned,
But I thought the world needed love and a steady hand.
So I'm steady now.
New poem at tinywords. Hungarian translation in the comments.
(I seem to be getting incrementally better at writing haiku: in the latest shiki monthly kukai, one submission received 7 points and the other 4 -- umimpressive compared to the winners, sure, but among my best showings, so I'm pleased regardless.)
Also pleasing: the two poems published in issue 10.2 are now available in the print edition of the issue.
Also! marymary reminds me that we first met seven years and three days ago. O happy day! :-)
Seven years. Saints. Revisiting some of my entries from that time was like plugging my current feelings into an amplifier: acutely missing people and connections that have since disappeared or dissolved, and yet hard-pressed to parcel out sufficient time and attention to the people, projects, and causes that inhabit my here and now.
But what a pleasure and honor it is to be able to try. And every day has brought with it small triumphs and unexpected merriment. Last Friday morning, it included racing out to the recycling truck -- which, gah, I can't believe I forgot to put the bins out (after making a point of filling them Thursday), but the big burly men were very amused: "You're really strong for a little lady!" Friday night, there was contra-dancing: pairing up with a jolie blonde for the lesson; getting saucy with a guy who looked like a pirate, which sent him into giggles; waltzing with a friend who's a fine dancer as well as a local historian.
Over the weekend, there was cooking supper for a friend, attending church, stopping by Nashville's hot chicken festival, and sipping a very nice Malbec in another friend's back yard while listening to strings of fireworks crackling and popping down the street (and the boys discussing Joan Rivers and costume parties, which both fall under the category of "firecrackers" as well, if you ask me). Since then, there's been dabs at housework and stabs at billables, during which I also hosted a cocktail party and a luncheon (both for church groups).
One of the best things about hosting gatherings? They're an excuse to splurge on flowers and wine:
We drew our arms around the bastard sons,
We never would drink to the chosen ones,
Well you know the way I left was not the way I planned,
But I thought the world needed love and a steady hand.
So I'm steady now.
New poem at tinywords. Hungarian translation in the comments.
(I seem to be getting incrementally better at writing haiku: in the latest shiki monthly kukai, one submission received 7 points and the other 4 -- umimpressive compared to the winners, sure, but among my best showings, so I'm pleased regardless.)
Also pleasing: the two poems published in issue 10.2 are now available in the print edition of the issue.
Also! marymary reminds me that we first met seven years and three days ago. O happy day! :-)
Seven years. Saints. Revisiting some of my entries from that time was like plugging my current feelings into an amplifier: acutely missing people and connections that have since disappeared or dissolved, and yet hard-pressed to parcel out sufficient time and attention to the people, projects, and causes that inhabit my here and now.
But what a pleasure and honor it is to be able to try. And every day has brought with it small triumphs and unexpected merriment. Last Friday morning, it included racing out to the recycling truck -- which, gah, I can't believe I forgot to put the bins out (after making a point of filling them Thursday), but the big burly men were very amused: "You're really strong for a little lady!" Friday night, there was contra-dancing: pairing up with a jolie blonde for the lesson; getting saucy with a guy who looked like a pirate, which sent him into giggles; waltzing with a friend who's a fine dancer as well as a local historian.
Over the weekend, there was cooking supper for a friend, attending church, stopping by Nashville's hot chicken festival, and sipping a very nice Malbec in another friend's back yard while listening to strings of fireworks crackling and popping down the street (and the boys discussing Joan Rivers and costume parties, which both fall under the category of "firecrackers" as well, if you ask me). Since then, there's been dabs at housework and stabs at billables, during which I also hosted a cocktail party and a luncheon (both for church groups).
One of the best things about hosting gatherings? They're an excuse to splurge on flowers and wine:
 |
| From Nashville |
Read/Post Comments (0)
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Back to Top
