Wednesday, July 27, 2011


Forget about macro. Try working small. There are daikon radish in the green pot and cress in the muffin tins. I punched holes in the muffin tin with an ice pick--easy. Water must drain. Isn't that an enormous ash tray?! Repurposing--awful word--is satisfying.

Fiona Hill's book, "Microgreens," is my guide, and already I've tasted a cress leaf, a primary one, but will be patient and wait until the secondary leaves come in.

Though I like working small, I don't want to shrink. My friend R., who has been lifting weights for years, is doing well at eighty! I've begun to lift at a local class and like it. I'm working with small weights, a present from J., They are red, my color.

What are you growing?

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Wedding Surprise

'Keep it fresh', someone once said about writing poetry, yet "keep" implies control. How to live a fresh life? Maybe wander a bit and do nothing; though, as for exercise, I need routine, which can be be reassuring but sometimes dull. Sunday I went out for what I thought would be a routine walk, round and round on a brick path, and found a wedding party assembled for photographs. I wish I had gotten a shot of the red fans the bridesmaids carried but it was difficult. I didn't want to intrude. The couple was striking.

There was break-away action.

How do you break up the routine? Or do you?

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Back Home Up North

It's taken a while to settle in, get my bearings and begin writing again. I've missed connecting with you. I'm glad to be back. North is still home. North is familiar glossy black sugar-eating ants rather than Florida's red fire ants. They sting. A few black crazy ants dance if you get too close and do not sting.

I feel at home when I take the lid off the compost pile and see this piece of disintegrating fabric. How long will it take for those embroidered flowers to disappear?

Someone on my block has put out books-- for the taking. There were no takers, not before rain soaked the books, certainly not after. None of the books interested me--pop, pulp, poor.

The next morning some of the books ended up in the gutter. Teenage marauders?

Small ruins are easy to take.

Tell me how you get your bearings.