Showing posts from May, 2012

Story Garden 2012

Since I am too tired to post anything about this weekend, I'll enlighten you instead with photographs of the garden so far. Life is a story. All stories have a beginning, middle, and end, so I structured the middle part of the garden like a story. The first section, which contains the garden stones and wildflowers, commences the tale and sets the story in motion. This year I planted orange marigolds on the perimeter of the garden, as a nod to my essay and lyrics of Orange that I wrote in my writing class this last semester. The middle of the garden, like the middle of life, is messier and weedier, but full and lovely. There is reoccuring lavender, a pot of sweet potatoes, two pots of strawberries, a pot of sunflowers, and a pot for tomatoes. The Asiatic and tiger lilies surround the middle and latter part of the garden. They are green and they bloom during the month of my birthday, which occurs in July. Perhaps that is why I love lilies so much. The last part of the garden, the co…

Yoga, Here I OM.

A phone conversation and my facebook status inspired this blog post: "I have the same diagnosis as my thirteen-year-old cat: arthritis. Time to strengthen my core. Yoga, here I OM." ♥ I've been having some pretty intense pain for the last couple of weeks. I pushed myself--and my luck--with gardening, running, and walking. About two weeks ago I hurt my back and my left hip; I had shooting pains down my leg. I used heat, ice, ICYHOT, and Aleve. Finally, I broke down and called the doctor on Thursday. I went in, had x-rays, and followed up today. The diagnosis was mild arthritis across my lower back; I need to strengthen my core to keep it from getting worse. (I'm sure it was the doctor's delicate way of saying LOSE SOME WEIGHT AROUND YOUR MIDSECTION, FATASS! I'm filing that along with the flying squirrel arm incident.) I thought I would be frustrated and upset, but it's actually inspiring and an incentive to get off my duff and start moving again, not jus…

The Travelling Marimba: a Shakespearean Saturday

A Lover's Fancy This afternoon, Steve and I brought my travelling marimba to Indiana University to rehearse for a fundraising concert. (The donations fund MLS scholarships.) Steve was grateful that it was just a small marimba this time. We set it up on the "bridge" (third floor) and rehearsed a few songs. The title of the program was A Lover's Fancy. I played "Now is the Month of May", "Ronde", "La Mourisque" with The MLS Players. The MLS Players consisted of faculty and staff. Other songs were "Thyrsis and Milla", "She Straight Her Light Silken Coats", and "Awake Sweet Love, Thou Art Returned." My friend M. sang beautifully. Faculty also read works from Shakespeare, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Philip Sidney, Christopher Marlowe, and Michael Drayton. It was so much fun to see people again and to play music. Playing recently for friends and events made me realize how much I missed playing drums and percussion, an…

Sunday Night Insomnia: Ire and Pain

Sunday literally morphed into Monday. I was awake all night. I finally broke down and took medicine that made me sleepy and it finally took hold after two hours of writing. I am onto something with therapeutic writing. I wasn't writing anything flowery or poetic: quite the opposite. As you could tell from my curmudgeonly-kids-get-off-my-lawn-style of writing this weekend, I was experiencing an anxiety-ridden, depressive weekend. Saturday was my only reprieve with attending the Unity Gardens education center and reading poetry at the Cornbread and Jazz concert at Jake's Studio. There's nothing like reading poetry with gorgeous instrumental jazz music playing in the background. The words came to life and momentarily, so did my spirits, although it deflated by late Sunday afternoon.

How wonderful it is when words can inspire or soothe someone; how distressing it is when words (or the lack of them) can deflate or hurt someone. I am learning to be more careful with words myse…

The Motherless Society: Year Four

The Motherless Society: Year Four

For those of you who have lost a mother, I am so sorry; my heart goes out to you. I empathize. Really, I do. Today marks the fourth Mother’s Day without my mother. All I can say is that it sucks, and it will continue to suck. (*Enter sad trombones here*)  I can say that as you delve and travel through the dark, murky, angry, ugly tunnel of grief, the intensity of the pain will lessen. The old adage of “time will heal” is true to an extent, although I respect your timeline and I require others to respect mine. You have my blessing and permission to tell anyone who tries to tell you to “move on, already” or “get over it” to shut the hell up.

I have to say that this helliday is the hardest to endure. Other people get to bring their mothers flowers or take them to lunch. If I am able, I get to bring flowers to my mother’s grave. (And for the record, I haven’t today. That’s personal. Don’t ask me about it or attempt to make me feel guilty about not visit…

Adventures With Greenie: No Longer the Hillybilly Honda

I finally got around to taking Greenie the Honda Civic to the car hospital to get the muffler replaced. (Yes, I procrastinated.)  She started making loud noises about three weeks ago. An orange icon of a muffler on the left hand side of the dashboard came on for the first time, indicating that something was wrong. Great. So I take her in for the 75,000 mile checkup. (The old girl's over 80,000 miles now. I plan on keeping her well over 100,000 miles. She's been the inspiration of a lot of interesting adventures.) We haven't had a car payment in years, so I won't complain about an occasional shell out of cash to keep Greenie going strong.

Something amusing occurred last week. I needed to have hairapy before presenting at conferences and for school. There was a special on keratin treatment for hair, so I had that with my usual tinsel-covering hairapy. The only catch with keratin treatment is that hair cannot get wet for eight hours. Well, I was going to Indiana Universi…

Writerly Weekend at the Gallery: Part Two

The gentleman in the photo above is Pen, who the owner of the cafe shop called Sixth and Main Coffee House. Here's the link: It's located down the street from the gallery. Pen's really nice. Angie has spoken with another employee there about carrying books. When we spoke to him Saturday night after the gallery closed, Pen agreed to carry five of my poetry books. Pen also invited us to come back to Shelbyville on a Sunday this summer to present. Steve and I are grateful to Angie and Larry for introducting us to Pen. His cafe is in a historical building that was constructed in the 1850's.

Writerly Weekend at the Gallery: Part One


Steve and I returned Sunday from a whirlwind weekend in Shelbyville, Kentucky. This was our first trip to Kentucky together. It took us just a little over five hours to arrive.  We visited amazing friends and presented our book at The Gallery: Shelby Artists on Main. It felt so arty and bohemian to present in an art gallery!There were around twelve or thirteen artists and writers who gathered around the table to talk about publishing and words. It was a lot of fun.  One of the participants read one of my poems out loud with an elegant southern drawl, like a beautiful molasses to my northern ears.

Here is a link to the gallery's webpage:  More soon!