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There have been email volleys circulating around the neighborhood forum about a female mallard found strangled by a plastic grocery bag and the male mallard who has sat watch over her. One writes, “mallards mate for life” – and others lament “humans destroying nature” – and still others bemoan the “careless act of littering and destroying our quality of life.” Writing about loss, about longing, about tragedy and betrayal drips off our pens … while writing…
Something about this NYT quote of the day made me smile (only out of context with what he is really referring to): QUOTATION OF THE DAY “You’re asking me to tell you how we’re going to get to a place we’ve never been, with a map I don’t have.” COL. STEVEN DAVID, a military defense lawyer, when asked for details on the capital case against six Guantánamo detainees.
Don’t worry — that pain in your heart is probably just one of Cupid’s arrows, and it’s a piercing that looks good on you! It’s an awesome week for you in matters of the heart overall, with your sex appeal especially fiery on Tuesday and Wednesday. But, again, don’t worry — Thursday (and Friday too, plus through the weekend) brings energy that’s just right for letting what’s on your mind and in your heart be…
and late this morning I sent a text to J that said, “if more is to be revealed, I’m walking off the planet.”
I had a date on Saturday night that now feels more like a journey than anything else. It seems like another lifetime ago when I stopped in at J’s house on my way to meet T to have a couple of glasses of champagne to take the edge of my nervousness – and then there was music, dancing, new friends, talking, and a strong gravitational pull that gripped and tugged at the ground beneath my…
I went to take mom on errands this morning and our Saturday brunch was moved down to lunch – we sat in a booth in the dimly lit bar at Houston’s on Veteran’s Boulevard and I told her about Mardi Gras – brought her pictures – we traded quips by Ivette, we laughed about some of the goings on from the Endymion party, I told her about Fat Tuesday and my MGGF – and we…
Today we all three came out of the house to remove the last traces of Mardi Gras – Roy was on his side cutting down the big grass and almost fell in a sink hole in his neighbor’s yard. Jerri was pulling the beads off her wrought iron fence, emptying out the keg in my neighbors drain, and returning pieces of costumes, and I was throwing away beads, removing the spears, and chucking the yellow…
Recall, I’ve written about the transition period – the one where you are a trapeze artist and you are letting go of the bar you know and grabbing the one you don’t – and all of life is letting go or grabbing hold of – but the suspension is when most creative thought happens or most growth takes place.I totally get it. I get it (read: she says jumping up and down). Again I get…
Or so I’ve heard through the ages. This week started with Taylor dying first, then Ed Rubin (Steve’s partner from EHDD in San Francisco), and last Victor Elnecave (one of my Dad’s cousins in Cuba who I haven’t seen for eight years). I took a big sigh with the third one – hoping the cycle is complete for now. I saw this poem by Jane Hirshfield:POEM WITH TWO ENDINGSSay “death” and the whole room freezes–even the…