Thursday, August 29, 2024

The end of the line

 


For this one, it was sudden. I found it on the lawn. Out in the middle of the yard, unprotected. No damage that I could see. No cats or other predators in sight. I put my finger under it and thought I felt a grip, or those legs just have little grippy hairs. No flutter, response. I put it in one of the potted Swedish ivy, thinking, "Rest a bit, then move on." Hours later, unchanged. Gone like a summer day.



Monday, August 26, 2024

Last pool day, maybe.

Someone in the neighborhood felt the need for a fire. 

It's been in the sixties overnight and the water temperature in the pool is approaching "no can do". I've recognized it's what I say aloud on that hot, sunny day late in summer when I go down the later, and by mid-calf, I can't go any further.

 
Today, I pushed it and by the time I was standing on the bottom, I was largely numb. Not good, so I skipped the cleaning routine and climbed aboard the floatie. Skimming the surface was do-able. Weatherwise, I might have a few more days like today. It's a strange flavor of sad.
 





























I may do more of these. Make them a page.  Reading the cards gives me a fine kind of buzz. Like there's more oxygen than I'm used to. Feels a lot like writing.


Sunday, August 25, 2024

The blue I do

 

Imagine chasing a runaway creature. It zigzags across the meadow, you dig in and try to cut it off. It gains on you, then stops and looks back over its shoulder. Maybe even sticks out its tongue or waggles its ass. 

That's writing when you are out of practice. False starts and blind alleys. But an elusive taste is all it takes to pull me back in and it's been delicious.


This is the blue I'll be working with for a while.

The cloth and threads will tend themselves.

I'm prepping for a road trip. Does anyone have any audiobook recommendations? 







He's nearly mastered shuffling. The hands will grow and it will get easier. 

After this, there was no living with him for a few hands. 

We use imaginary money and the discussions are about odds, percentages, money management, and gambling addictions including a warning about genetic predilections.  

My advantage? When only two people play poker no one ever gets too far ahead. 



Tuesday, August 20, 2024

Full moon reading

I left my Tarot spread out on the carpet by the glass doors. The full moon was so bright that I woke up disoriented about the time.


You've simultaneously been under the spell of the past and the unknown future.  Overlapping ripples. 

If it were productive or fun it would be a drug, but it's neither. And so you are emotionally empty. Exhausted. 

But that's an open, receptive state. 

The Knight is doing what must be done. The steps are known and clear. Move forward with a heart open to the emotional relief that taking these steps will bring. 




I spent the morning posting new sets. Moving the colors around and auditioning quartets is a fine way to pass the time.



 

Monday, August 19, 2024

Wild weekend

 


I had to ask both my sons who taught them to skateboard? Both said, "Nobody!"  The best I could do was not watch, even when Colin came inside and said, "I think I broke my arm." He had. A greenstick fracture to the forearm.

In this sport, injury is inevitable. Charlie's getting a good start with all the necessary gear and came away from his first flight with a minor bruise and an appreciation for how hard concrete is. Bless those young bones.

With very little input, he was up and finding his balance point. All I could do was sit quiet, get a few shots, and keep my lip zipped. 




We left the skatepark to get to the adjacent soccer fields to cheer on Charlie's cousin in her first game. In minutes, the game was called for lightning! And we had a harrowing ride home, fortunately with a pro at the wheel of a big, safe truck.



My camera failed to catch the orange ball of the sun as it sank under that freight train of black clouds that chased us home.



Back home in the studio, the cloth that I left out in the rain kept a lot of its promise.