I am discovering that when I am frazzled for any number of reasons that smush together with no one thing outstanding, that driving sedately helps. No one on the road but you. In the rearview, the road ribbons back in an upward slope, suggesting space, silence, and just what one needs to get quiet enough to think. It is labor day weekend and today is a full moon. Things are shifting, changing, as one phase slips into the next, and things need to settle. Be present in each moment, a… Read more More driving →
Tomorrow my nephew turns two. His mother is my cousin, and she has declared unequivocally that I am his “Perriamma”, that is the aunt who elder on the maternal side.… Read more Late August, Nearly September →
A lunch hour poem, read out loud by the poet. Poem
A Phonecall from Frank O’Hara by Anne Waldman : The Poetry Foundation.
The fourteenth of August. Tomorrow is India’s Independence Day. It is also Julia Child’s 100th birthday. Happy birthday to both. My library books are due tomorrow, though I already renewed them… Read more August brownies →