Moonlight over Puget Sound. From Whidbey Island, 6.06.09.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Kelley
Burnt
Screeching,
Reaching
For the brakes
Nowhere to be found.
Outside the half-rolln' window,
Passing
In a blur,
Greens and blues
Like run-together watercolors of
A blender-blown Monet,
Life
Marches
On.
But passing Go,
I'm on a roll
Winded and blinded
Momentum,
My own.
At the wheel
Still screeching,
Reaching
For the brakes.
Oops.
Wasn't
That
A Stop Sign?
Screeching,
Reaching
For the brakes
Nowhere to be found.
Outside the half-rolln' window,
Passing
In a blur,
Greens and blues
Like run-together watercolors of
A blender-blown Monet,
Life
Marches
On.
But passing Go,
I'm on a roll
Winded and blinded
Momentum,
My own.
At the wheel
Still screeching,
Reaching
For the brakes.
Oops.
Wasn't
That
A Stop Sign?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Kelley
An evening at home....
Finally feet up,
Ice cubes clink in my gin & tonic.
Blinds clap in the evening breeze, and
Birds chirp good night through the screen.
A ceiling fan whirs above my head, while
The dishwasher purrs.
Then, as expected...
A crash, clank and roll of Charlie's pacifier jetting out of his crib
Amplified across the wood floor upstairs.
The monitor detects a wimpy cry that
Escalates into full blown wails.
A major bedtime meltdown.
Up the stairs
To calm the storm.
And down again.
The ice cubes have melted,
Birds are asleep,
The fan is too cold,
And the sun has set.
Another evening at home.
Finally feet up,
Ice cubes clink in my gin & tonic.
Blinds clap in the evening breeze, and
Birds chirp good night through the screen.
A ceiling fan whirs above my head, while
The dishwasher purrs.
Then, as expected...
A crash, clank and roll of Charlie's pacifier jetting out of his crib
Amplified across the wood floor upstairs.
The monitor detects a wimpy cry that
Escalates into full blown wails.
A major bedtime meltdown.
Up the stairs
To calm the storm.
And down again.
The ice cubes have melted,
Birds are asleep,
The fan is too cold,
And the sun has set.
Another evening at home.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Kelley
You snooze, you loose...
Charlie is sound asleep.
But under his window, not more than 15 feet away, his all-time favorite entertainment is happening without him: A 310SG Deere 3-in-1 Excavation Backhoe tractor is absolutely shaking the house and tearing up our front yard. For those who are not familiar with excavation trucks, this one is like an amped-up Transformer toy; It has a shovel and dump end with jaw-like "teeth" to clamp objects between the lift and the blade (as it smashes the 50-year old cement slabs in pieces and hauls them to another dump truck). It has a scoop end with two crustacean-like retractable claws that break apart and haul smaller objects. The claws levy down to the ground, turning into "feet" that steady a 25-foot hydraulic scoop backhoe with sharp nails for digging. And it has a piercing, backup emergency beep- a sound that is driving me crazy at the moment.
But, my little truck-lover snoozes on.
I can't beleive he is missing the action, just under his window.
Sorry Charlie, you snooze, you lose...
Charlie is sound asleep.
But under his window, not more than 15 feet away, his all-time favorite entertainment is happening without him: A 310SG Deere 3-in-1 Excavation Backhoe tractor is absolutely shaking the house and tearing up our front yard. For those who are not familiar with excavation trucks, this one is like an amped-up Transformer toy; It has a shovel and dump end with jaw-like "teeth" to clamp objects between the lift and the blade (as it smashes the 50-year old cement slabs in pieces and hauls them to another dump truck). It has a scoop end with two crustacean-like retractable claws that break apart and haul smaller objects. The claws levy down to the ground, turning into "feet" that steady a 25-foot hydraulic scoop backhoe with sharp nails for digging. And it has a piercing, backup emergency beep- a sound that is driving me crazy at the moment.
But, my little truck-lover snoozes on.
I can't beleive he is missing the action, just under his window.
Sorry Charlie, you snooze, you lose...
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Kelley
Agitated
The inexplicable,
Irrevocable
Invisible
Sliver of
Annoyance.
A paper cut
Wedged
Between the
Index and thumb.
Shins
Sandpapered raw,
Kneeling in alcohol.
A backache
That wraps around,
Inside
And out.
A shard
Of high-noon light
Cutting straight
Into
The pupil.
Long polished nails,
A receptionists' red,
Raking
The chalkboard
In a drawn-out
Edge
Beside an open ear.
Droning music,
On and on,
A half-static
Country station
That will not turn off.
A hangover's
Fuzzy teeth
And pulsing head
Lasting well into
The next day's sunshine.
A spindly
Accusing finger
Pointing
Straight
Into the face.
Cracked dry hands,
Chapped
And sunburned,
Weathering like
A lizard
That crawls across
The hot desert sand.
A permeating
Smell
Of burnt toast
And old socks,
Ammonia and mustard.
Dirty dishes
Stacked again,
Eggs
Glued
Forever.
The inexplicable
Irrevocable
Invisible
Sliver of
Annoyance.
The inexplicable,
Irrevocable
Invisible
Sliver of
Annoyance.
A paper cut
Wedged
Between the
Index and thumb.
Shins
Sandpapered raw,
Kneeling in alcohol.
A backache
That wraps around,
Inside
And out.
A shard
Of high-noon light
Cutting straight
Into
The pupil.
Long polished nails,
A receptionists' red,
Raking
The chalkboard
In a drawn-out
Edge
Beside an open ear.
Droning music,
On and on,
A half-static
Country station
That will not turn off.
A hangover's
Fuzzy teeth
And pulsing head
Lasting well into
The next day's sunshine.
A spindly
Accusing finger
Pointing
Straight
Into the face.
Cracked dry hands,
Chapped
And sunburned,
Weathering like
A lizard
That crawls across
The hot desert sand.
A permeating
Smell
Of burnt toast
And old socks,
Ammonia and mustard.
Dirty dishes
Stacked again,
Eggs
Glued
Forever.
The inexplicable
Irrevocable
Invisible
Sliver of
Annoyance.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Cindy
Running for my life. Royal BC Museum. (I'm sure we're the first to ever take this photo).
Photo: MSE
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Kelley
Tuned In....
We don't have a T.V.
But everyday at about noon, in an effort to know what's going on in the world outside my little domestic dome, I listen to the National Public Radio.
Today, as I was spooning lunch to my son, and occasionally catching the cascading bits of rice and avocado flying across my head as he learns to feed himself, I became convinced of something:
Our news is full of irony.
An 88-year old man, full of hatred, shot a young guard protecting the Holocaust Museum in D.C.
A woman surgeon peformed the incredible first transplant of a full human face, a new face for another woman who was shot up-close by her husband: he blew off her lower eyelids, nose and cheek bones.
A doctor from an abortion clinic, whose life's work was to give women a choice, was shot dead... in a church.
I want to know the news. Bad news and good news- it's our news.
But the stories of the world, in my opinion, are enough to hear. I don't need to see them all on the tele. I don't need to be pummeled with propaganda and catch phrases, media sound bites and video clips, talking heads or a scrolling bar of instant info across the screen.
I like to be able to tune in. Hear the news, maybe read it, and know what's happening at my own pace. And then turn it, in an instant, to the sound of a good song.
Or to simply...
Tune out.
*So here's my vote, if anyone asks, for a TV-FREE AMERICA
We don't have a T.V.
But everyday at about noon, in an effort to know what's going on in the world outside my little domestic dome, I listen to the National Public Radio.
Today, as I was spooning lunch to my son, and occasionally catching the cascading bits of rice and avocado flying across my head as he learns to feed himself, I became convinced of something:
Our news is full of irony.
An 88-year old man, full of hatred, shot a young guard protecting the Holocaust Museum in D.C.
A woman surgeon peformed the incredible first transplant of a full human face, a new face for another woman who was shot up-close by her husband: he blew off her lower eyelids, nose and cheek bones.
A doctor from an abortion clinic, whose life's work was to give women a choice, was shot dead... in a church.
I want to know the news. Bad news and good news- it's our news.
But the stories of the world, in my opinion, are enough to hear. I don't need to see them all on the tele. I don't need to be pummeled with propaganda and catch phrases, media sound bites and video clips, talking heads or a scrolling bar of instant info across the screen.
I like to be able to tune in. Hear the news, maybe read it, and know what's happening at my own pace. And then turn it, in an instant, to the sound of a good song.
Or to simply...
Tune out.
*So here's my vote, if anyone asks, for a TV-FREE AMERICA
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Kelley
Later
Procrastination,
The lurking thorn in the game,
Pulls at my hair today
True to its name.
Mile-high dishes
Glare at me,
And though I could make a dent
I'd rather not see.
A freelance job deadline
Hoovers in the air
Like overbearing perfume
Of visiting aunt- we'll call "Clare."
Two loads of laundry,
A Wash-Me type car,
Dustballs and dirt clods
From the trails near and far.
Finger-painted windows
In yellows, reds and greens
Revealing the story
Of Charlie- a Dinner Art fiend.
A cluttered pantry
A garage mice would love,
My closet in shambles
And a garbage in need of a shove.
Instead of tackling any of these
I'm enjoying the day off
A day without my little Charlie.
Procrastination
Has become part of my gait,
And the endless to-do list
Will just have to....
WAIT!
Procrastination,
The lurking thorn in the game,
Pulls at my hair today
True to its name.
Mile-high dishes
Glare at me,
And though I could make a dent
I'd rather not see.
A freelance job deadline
Hoovers in the air
Like overbearing perfume
Of visiting aunt- we'll call "Clare."
Two loads of laundry,
A Wash-Me type car,
Dustballs and dirt clods
From the trails near and far.
Finger-painted windows
In yellows, reds and greens
Revealing the story
Of Charlie- a Dinner Art fiend.
A cluttered pantry
A garage mice would love,
My closet in shambles
And a garbage in need of a shove.
Instead of tackling any of these
I'm enjoying the day off
A day without my little Charlie.
Procrastination
Has become part of my gait,
And the endless to-do list
Will just have to....
WAIT!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Kelley
Two burly moving men just left our house, after 30 minutes of measuring, finagling, squeezing and pondering the importance of keeping our walls intact. The final conclusion: I'm sitting in my living room (instead of the playroom where I wanted to be sitting) and I'm looking at the beginning of a huge project. A 1940's mahogany Emerson upright piano. Made in the USA! My goal: to learn to read music and play for my kid(s). With only 2 years of lessons under my belt, taken during the tumultuous years of early adolescence, I need to relearn the very basics of piano theory. Chopsticks and nursery rhymes will have to do until I have time for lessons! Wish me luck...
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Cindy
Victoria Harbour, by day & by night.
Just back from our 3rd very fun weekend out-of-town in-a-row, and am so glad to be home.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Kelley
The Sound
I'm grasping for
You
Through the useless
Clutter,
The droning
Busyness,
The muffle of endless
Noise.
Your voice is louder
Clearer
The fine thread
Of meaning
I seek.
When I meet
You
And we face
Breath to breath
Will I recognize
You?
Will my life
Have been
Pleasing to
You?
Looking,
I'm awestruck.
The intricacy
Of a caterpillar's 228 muscles
In its head
Alone.
The abundance
Of one elm tree's
6 million leaves.
The vastness
Of the Huble's
350 million estimated galaxies.
And our
One,
The absolute delicate
Balance
Of water
And oxygen
For life on earth.
The undefinable
Beauty of
New life
And passing death.
In it
I see
You.
Help me mute
The nonsense.
I want
To hear,
With my own ears,
The sound of
You.
I'm grasping for
You
Through the useless
Clutter,
The droning
Busyness,
The muffle of endless
Noise.
Your voice is louder
Clearer
The fine thread
Of meaning
I seek.
When I meet
You
And we face
Breath to breath
Will I recognize
You?
Will my life
Have been
Pleasing to
You?
Looking,
I'm awestruck.
The intricacy
Of a caterpillar's 228 muscles
In its head
Alone.
The abundance
Of one elm tree's
6 million leaves.
The vastness
Of the Huble's
350 million estimated galaxies.
And our
One,
The absolute delicate
Balance
Of water
And oxygen
For life on earth.
The undefinable
Beauty of
New life
And passing death.
In it
I see
You.
Help me mute
The nonsense.
I want
To hear,
With my own ears,
The sound of
You.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Cindy
Birthday Table
For Birthday Dinner I was taken to my favorite little spot, very private, where only the freshest local ingredients are used. We dined on Birthday Cocktail: fresh squeezed orange juice, mandarin vodka, and champagne; beef tenderloin, asparagus, and potatoes. My favorite!
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