n. infantile pattern of suckle-swallow movement in which the tongue is placed between incisor teeth or between alveolar ridges during initial stage of swallowing (if persistent can lead to various dental abnormalities) v. [content removed due to Bush campaign to clean up the internet] n. act of nyah-nyah v. pursuing with relentless abandon the need to masticate and thrust the world into every bodily incarnation in order to transform it, via the act of salivation, into nutritive agency

Sunday, May 01, 2011

package ponderation

Who'd a thought that ponderation would be the noun form of ponder?

Garden 5-1-11
I got a lovely package in the mail, one with a hug in it. It made me happy and I've been trying to stretch that vibe out for a bit. The package had an interesting collection... a coaster. Makes me think of all the coaster poems I've participated in over the years, but none for awhile. ...a rune. But I don't know what it's a rune of! Mystery, perhaps, as I've looked online for it, to no avail. I imagine it's Welsh, which you'd think would narrow down the field, but apparently other than runic alphabets, there is no huge compendium for runes out there that I can find. I will have to wait until Jess tells me, or I will have to hang it and assume it's a most excellent rune that will bring me all kinds of good luck. And last, a book called Bluets, which I told myself I had to wait to read, being that I am trying to finish another book of poetry called Mortal Geography. But I did not wait, and actually I started reading a third book of poetry at the same time. Three books of poetry, not normal fare for me, I must say. But here is a highlight from each:

From Mortal Geography, Alexandra Teague, "Bay Window, with Divorce and Pigeon":
Unbloodily alive, its iridescent feathers matted.
I wanted to kill it for surviving, messenger of the obvious

flaws in the world's construction: in love's shelter,
we forgot the most luminous rooms have thin glass.
From Bardo, Suzanne Paola, "In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts":
In the books that lay around me: my poems
inked, slick-clad, that became
small mouthings in a dying tongue,
I had everything, & I lay there crying.
I was hungry for things I could not eat.
From Bluets, Maggie Nelson:
14. I have enjoyed telling people that I am writing a book about blue without actually doing it. Mostly what happens in such cases is that people give you stories or leads or gifts, and then you can play with these things instead of with words. Over the past decade I have been give blue inks, paintings, postcards, dyes, bracelets, rocks, precious stones, watercolors, pigments, paperweights, goblets, and candies...

15. I think of these people as my blue correspondents, whose job it is to send me blue reports from the field.

16. But you talk of all this jauntily, when really it is more like you have been mortally ill, and these correspondents send pieces of blue news as if last-ditch homes for a cure.

17. But what goes on in you when you talk about color as if it were a cure, when you have not yet stated your disease.
See, they are all good, although I'm having a harder time with Bardo.

It is sunny out today, and I mean to finish up here and go work on the garden. I will take a picture and upload it when I get to the study later today to do my Sunday teaching prep and tutoring. And you will be amazed by my garden.

Garden 5-1-11
And here are all the babies, in this order: Mom's asparagus, radishes, chard, sugar-snap peas, sweet peas, spinach, last years wildflowers (at least one of which is columbine), cover wildflowers I 'let' grow on the path, kale, poppies in the greenhouse, and broccoli and cabbage in the green house

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Garden 5-1-11Garden 5-1-11

Garden 5-1-11Other news:

Well, I am still feeling set about getting a new job. I was feeling nebulous before the bad news. But now I feel that I can't afford to merely stem the tide by moving to town and getting another part time job to fill in for the tutoring and placement testing extras I'll be losing soon. The cc has made it clear they don't value me; I'm thirty-four, and need to find a place that values me. So, I'm trying to get things sharp in my head, so I can feel confident. I've been feeling rather not confident for awhile. Not sure why, when I know I am a capable and hard-working individual when I care to be.

I bought new shoes in the hopes that my foot woes become manageable. I've been hobbling around like an old lady, for no other apparent reason than having worked out vigorously on The Elliptical for a day. Maybe pricy shoes will help.

I met with SP and we had a nice lunch, plus I also spelled out my upset. Gently, I think. I wish I had less to spell out and more to celebrate in my life.

Like gnomes, I want garden gnomes... real ones though, not those fake plastic ones made in China.

NM is coming up tomorrow. I was blunt and told her I didn't have the energy to take care of her, so she was welcome if she could manage not being high maintenance. She was funny back: "Well. I am low maintenance. This week." She told me it was her turn to be there for me, so hopefully this visit will be mellow. I mean, it's a work week for me, and she's only coming up because SP's ex-girlfriend invited NM to fill in on their softball team. Bizarre.

I sent some work out for rejection yesterday. I'm getting serious, now, baby.

Herald is shedding like mad. He gets irritated because I am always pulling at his hair-- as I walk by, as I cuddle, as I take him on walks around the park, as I brush him with the brush he bites and snaps at. Man, that dog can shed. It's a good thing he's the best dog ever, including Lassie.

Okay. I'm off.
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