Sailing on the Sound.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Kelley
lukewarm
In her crisp white shirts and proper gloves
She calls herself
Devoted.
Upright
In her faith.
A true
Believer.
On Fire.
A Good
Doer.
Righteous.
But her Time with God,
In quiet prayer
And daily Bread,
The Holy life,
The Walk of Talk
Is tucked away.
Staunchly perfect.
A precious bundle
Like heirloom silver
Wrapped in linen
Placed carefully in a back drawer
Only opened
On Sundays
Or once or twice a year
When her mother visits
Or to dust
And let in
The spring air.
In her crisp white shirts and proper gloves
She calls herself
Devoted.
Upright
In her faith.
A true
Believer.
On Fire.
A Good
Doer.
Righteous.
But her Time with God,
In quiet prayer
And daily Bread,
The Holy life,
The Walk of Talk
Is tucked away.
Staunchly perfect.
A precious bundle
Like heirloom silver
Wrapped in linen
Placed carefully in a back drawer
Only opened
On Sundays
Or once or twice a year
When her mother visits
Or to dust
And let in
The spring air.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Kelley
Patience
Wet snow drips
Outside the window.
Tulips lean
In the vase on my table,
Stretching toward the damp light.
Waiting for Spring.
A promising sun
Seeps through clouds of bone-chilling fog.
Liquid sky
Floats in puddles.
Waiting for Spring.
Still waiting.
Tiny potted seedlings of
Carrots, Onions, Peas
Sunflowers
Sleep quietly in a blanket of new soil.
Waiting for Spring.
Still waiting.
April showers
Bring May Flowers
And all that jazz.
Still waiting
For Spring.
Wet snow drips
Outside the window.
Tulips lean
In the vase on my table,
Stretching toward the damp light.
Waiting for Spring.
A promising sun
Seeps through clouds of bone-chilling fog.
Liquid sky
Floats in puddles.
Waiting for Spring.
Still waiting.
Tiny potted seedlings of
Carrots, Onions, Peas
Sunflowers
Sleep quietly in a blanket of new soil.
Waiting for Spring.
Still waiting.
April showers
Bring May Flowers
And all that jazz.
Still waiting
For Spring.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Kelley
What the teachers don't tell you...
In the current New Yorker magazine, an article about Edgar Allan Poe caught my attention. Murder, scarey talking birds, signs of death and cold windy nights. Suspense. Chills up the spine. Police and detective work. Ugly. That's what I remember of his works, the assigned reading in high school. The Raven, The Gold-Bug, A Telltale Heart...all are dark and murderous stories with twisted plots in rhythm. However, while it was quite obvious that he was a very strange man, living through two major economic crashes in the 1840s and dreary unemployment spikes in New York city, the teachers never really told us about this guy. About the man behind the words. He was bad. A chronic liar, he was blacklisted among New York publishers for attempting to write crazy, outlandish and false autobiographies. He got off on insulting his readers, and while extremely talented at writing puns and cryptograms, most all of his works were out to dupe the reader. He hated his audience! He showed up drunk at a New York city speaking event, tricking the audience by reading one of his childhood poems instead of the keynote address. He sought money, but he pretty much starved his whole life. His literary criticism reeked with mockery and debauchery, calling out the incredible authors of the time from James Fenimore Cooper to Margaret Fuller. He failed at every magazine he began or edited, and his life was quite sad. An orphan, his foster father disowned him after he lied and stole from the family. And he was found wasted outside a bar, having spent the only 10 bucks to his name, which was intended as a community donation to his sickly wife. She died of consumption. He died of, as if the finale to his life's work, "mysterious causes," just three years later. Stephen King calls Poe the granddaddy of detective fiction. But this granddaddy was a bad dude. Sometimes it's sad that an author or artist never became famous during their life, celebrity achieved only after they're gone. In Poe's case, it's sad that he became famous at all. Bad people should not live on. I'm sure this was not on the lesson plan...
In the current New Yorker magazine, an article about Edgar Allan Poe caught my attention. Murder, scarey talking birds, signs of death and cold windy nights. Suspense. Chills up the spine. Police and detective work. Ugly. That's what I remember of his works, the assigned reading in high school. The Raven, The Gold-Bug, A Telltale Heart...all are dark and murderous stories with twisted plots in rhythm. However, while it was quite obvious that he was a very strange man, living through two major economic crashes in the 1840s and dreary unemployment spikes in New York city, the teachers never really told us about this guy. About the man behind the words. He was bad. A chronic liar, he was blacklisted among New York publishers for attempting to write crazy, outlandish and false autobiographies. He got off on insulting his readers, and while extremely talented at writing puns and cryptograms, most all of his works were out to dupe the reader. He hated his audience! He showed up drunk at a New York city speaking event, tricking the audience by reading one of his childhood poems instead of the keynote address. He sought money, but he pretty much starved his whole life. His literary criticism reeked with mockery and debauchery, calling out the incredible authors of the time from James Fenimore Cooper to Margaret Fuller. He failed at every magazine he began or edited, and his life was quite sad. An orphan, his foster father disowned him after he lied and stole from the family. And he was found wasted outside a bar, having spent the only 10 bucks to his name, which was intended as a community donation to his sickly wife. She died of consumption. He died of, as if the finale to his life's work, "mysterious causes," just three years later. Stephen King calls Poe the granddaddy of detective fiction. But this granddaddy was a bad dude. Sometimes it's sad that an author or artist never became famous during their life, celebrity achieved only after they're gone. In Poe's case, it's sad that he became famous at all. Bad people should not live on. I'm sure this was not on the lesson plan...
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Kelley
you...
Do you know what you stand for,
What matters to you..does every action and word coincide with it too?
Answer these questions
And see if it's true
That you are living, not just life,
But a reflection of YOU.
What book are you now reading? What music captivates you?
What did you last purchase, what does your spending say too?
Who are your close friends and what together do you do?
When did you last help someone in need, forgetting your self,
Open the door for someone, or listen instead of saying something else?
Where did you send your last letter, who was it for?
What did you do with free-time today, was it wasted wishing for more?
If your life were a book, every minute recorded in thought and word too
Do you really know this person you call YOU?
Do you know what you stand for,
What matters to you..does every action and word coincide with it too?
Answer these questions
And see if it's true
That you are living, not just life,
But a reflection of YOU.
What book are you now reading? What music captivates you?
What did you last purchase, what does your spending say too?
Who are your close friends and what together do you do?
When did you last help someone in need, forgetting your self,
Open the door for someone, or listen instead of saying something else?
Where did you send your last letter, who was it for?
What did you do with free-time today, was it wasted wishing for more?
If your life were a book, every minute recorded in thought and word too
Do you really know this person you call YOU?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Kelley
New Teeth
They're coming through like daggers,
Ripping at the flesh.
These baby teeth don't care one bit
About Charlie's state of mess.
Up all night.
A screaming fright.
And now I'm too tired to write.
Another goodnight.
Yikes.
:(
They're coming through like daggers,
Ripping at the flesh.
These baby teeth don't care one bit
About Charlie's state of mess.
Up all night.
A screaming fright.
And now I'm too tired to write.
Another goodnight.
Yikes.
:(
Friday, April 24, 2009
robyn
today i hosted playgroup at my place. 5 moms, 12 kids, age 7 weeks (freddie) to 4 years, 11 months and 25 days (fiona). only two bloody lips (jasper and tobi). two poopies (freya and sadie), one loaf of banana bluberry bread and a pot of coffee. we would have gone outside but there were about 12 inches of fresh snow blanketing everything. sunny tomorrow and then another snow storm due on sunday, many more inches of fresh white snow. really good for the mountains, not really good for mommies with kids, most of whom have put away all the winter gear.
Kelley
My Plot
Today I bought a 5' by 10' plot at the Sisters Community Garden. My chance to become a greenthumb! Planting can begin June 1, so I've got lots of work to do before then. What to plant? And Todd has decided that he wants to attempt a vegetarian diet this summer. The pressure is on... I've gotta grow some enticing veggies. Wish me luck!
Today I bought a 5' by 10' plot at the Sisters Community Garden. My chance to become a greenthumb! Planting can begin June 1, so I've got lots of work to do before then. What to plant? And Todd has decided that he wants to attempt a vegetarian diet this summer. The pressure is on... I've gotta grow some enticing veggies. Wish me luck!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Kelley
Conscientious Aftermath
of an Earth Day Resolution
Morning coffee-
Bend, Oregon.
Breakfast oatmeal and rice milk-
Seattle and New York.
Snacks of Gala apples and crackers-
Washington state and New Jersey.
Lunch of spinach, tomatoes and dressing-
California and West Virginia.
San Pelligrino-
Italy.
Melon-
Mexico.
Chocolate-
Switzerland.
Dinner burgers on the barbie-
South Dakota.
Apple cobbler-
Washington and 10 other industrial places across the nation.
Mirror Pond Ale-
Bend, Oregon.
Total travel-
Way too far.
At least the day began and ended locally...
It can only get better from here.
of an Earth Day Resolution
Morning coffee-
Bend, Oregon.
Breakfast oatmeal and rice milk-
Seattle and New York.
Snacks of Gala apples and crackers-
Washington state and New Jersey.
Lunch of spinach, tomatoes and dressing-
California and West Virginia.
San Pelligrino-
Italy.
Melon-
Mexico.
Chocolate-
Switzerland.
Dinner burgers on the barbie-
South Dakota.
Apple cobbler-
Washington and 10 other industrial places across the nation.
Mirror Pond Ale-
Bend, Oregon.
Total travel-
Way too far.
At least the day began and ended locally...
It can only get better from here.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Kelley
A Garden for Earth Day
By 2050, scientists say the world's farmers will need to double their agricultural output to feed us all.
Twice as much food.
For twice as many mouths.
In just 40 years.
Where will all this new food grow?
If the wheat fields continue their warp into subdivisions, where will our bread come from?
Will we drink orange juice made from incubated seedlings grown in a white sterile building tended by mad glove-wielding scientists who call themselves farmers?
Will "organic" be impossible?
Will biotechnology and genetically modified organisms be the only option?
In 40 years, my baby son will be a middle-aged man. What will his dinner plate look like then? What will he be feeding his children?
Will they know where it came from? And will it look like the food we know?
They say that hybrid seeds will produce more, sustain us longer, conserve the earth's resources.
Maybe so.
Time will tell.
I do know that it's time to make a change.
A garden-sized change.
One day my son will tell his own kids
That he saw his dinner sprouting from seeds in the ground
Before it appeared on his plate.
By 2050, scientists say the world's farmers will need to double their agricultural output to feed us all.
Twice as much food.
For twice as many mouths.
In just 40 years.
Where will all this new food grow?
If the wheat fields continue their warp into subdivisions, where will our bread come from?
Will we drink orange juice made from incubated seedlings grown in a white sterile building tended by mad glove-wielding scientists who call themselves farmers?
Will "organic" be impossible?
Will biotechnology and genetically modified organisms be the only option?
In 40 years, my baby son will be a middle-aged man. What will his dinner plate look like then? What will he be feeding his children?
Will they know where it came from? And will it look like the food we know?
They say that hybrid seeds will produce more, sustain us longer, conserve the earth's resources.
Maybe so.
Time will tell.
I do know that it's time to make a change.
A garden-sized change.
One day my son will tell his own kids
That he saw his dinner sprouting from seeds in the ground
Before it appeared on his plate.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
robyn
wondering why some dog owners in bozeman think that just because they say their dog is friendly that makes it okay for their dog to lick my kids face.
Kelley
foreclosure
He's here
At our home
In his truck.
Right now.
The man who owned our house,
The man who lost it all.
The bank took it
Because he
In faith of the American dream
Overstretched his imaginary wallet.
Bankrupt.
Here I am
Sitting inside
Looking out
Wondering
What does he see when he looks at our home?
He's here
At our home
In his truck.
Right now.
The man who owned our house,
The man who lost it all.
The bank took it
Because he
In faith of the American dream
Overstretched his imaginary wallet.
Bankrupt.
Here I am
Sitting inside
Looking out
Wondering
What does he see when he looks at our home?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Kelley
82 degrees today.
Stroller rides, sunburns and sweat.
Todd spent the day in the creek,
Testing the POV camera
Inside his new invention;
An underwater housing
made from pvc pipe, toilet hardware
And a latex glove.
I watched...
It worked...
No leaks.
As for Charlie,
He leaked
On me.
Tomorrow I will take
Him to the creek,
If the temperature is right.
82 degrees might do it.
look here! http://catchmagazine.net/pov_wide.mov
Stroller rides, sunburns and sweat.
Todd spent the day in the creek,
Testing the POV camera
Inside his new invention;
An underwater housing
made from pvc pipe, toilet hardware
And a latex glove.
I watched...
It worked...
No leaks.
As for Charlie,
He leaked
On me.
Tomorrow I will take
Him to the creek,
If the temperature is right.
82 degrees might do it.
look here! http://catchmagazine.net/pov_wide.mov
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Kelley
Dishwasher is running. The house is a mess. I'm ignoring my crying toddler in his crib, I confess. Finally it's time to put my feet up and relax. Oh, yes, the blog...I shouldn't slack. So, cheers to an attempt I'll make tonight. And it's time to rescue my son whose making quite a sight. Good night!
robyn
so, ladies, have to admit i feel a little sigh of relief to have this blog not be weighing on me. i love doing it and i hope to figure out a way to make it happen, right after i sell off my kids...
:-)
:-)
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
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