Make Good Art.

-Neil Gaiman

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Fate

The theme for this week on my other blog was "Fate." This is a version of the poem I wrote for it originally, but it wasn't coming together in time. I posted a different poem over at Glints and just finished this one today.


***
Anniversary

My daughter calls one night. I am smoking in the kitchen.
Her father puts in a new garden.
Before I can thank her for the card she sent
for our 30th anniversary,
she tells me, breathlessly, I think I'm falling in love.
She doesn't remember--she has called before saying the same thing.
I do not remind her. I listen. Ask the questions she wants me to ask.
I smoke. Make approving noises.
Say it's a nice time of year to be young and in love.
I roll my eyes at her father when he comes in to wash his hands.
He takes the phone, lights a cigarette of his own,
shakes his head at her exuberance.
He says he's happy for her, keeping the doubt from his voice.
We both know it will be enough to tell her, in a few weeks,
that love is never easy. And if it ever seems too simple,
one of you is lying.

Monday, May 17, 2010

TAL






By "I love This American Life" I mean I have a list of favorite episodes I can listen to over and over again. I make TAL references in daily conversation. I give to their pledge drive every time they ask for money. I've considered the "Radio By Mail" subscription to the program so that I can listen to the shows forever at my own leisure. I often tell friends which episodes they should listen to and why I think they'd love them. I have been known to tell whole stories from the show in an attempt to get people to try it. My dream is to one day be a contributor (although, I don't write particularly good non-fiction or short stories, so I'm not sure how that's going to work).

A friend asked recently for a list of my favorite episodes. Believe it or not, this is the short list. If you have a roadtrip ahead of you, it's worth downloading them (.99 a piece) and taking them along.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Personal Chef for Hire


I am only partially joking.

I have a few strengths about which I am not bashful. I have an excellent sense of humor, I can be rather quick-witted and personal, I put a lot of time and effort into academic success.

But that of which I am most proud (as friends or relatively regular readers of this blog can tell you) is that I am a pretty damn good cook. I have afternoons off this summer and wish that I were in a wealthy enough area that someone would hire me on as a personal chef for the next few months.
The outline: I work 3-7 Monday-Saturday, with occasional Sunday hours should an event come up. For the price of groceries plus a nominal wage I would do all the prep work, cook dinner, and do the dishes, all in the comfort of your own home. Weekly menus will be provided every Sunday, with a 6 hour window for vetos and substitution requests. You have delicious leftovers to take to work all week and a stress-less summer full of good food and wine. I get to spend my afternoons cooking, making a little money, experimenting with new recipes, and get to add personal chef to my resume.

A girl can dream, right?

That said, I might actually try to get an apprenticeship with an artisan baker this summer.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

We come from people who brought us up to believe life is a struggle, and if you should ever be really happy, be patient: this will pass.
-Garrison Keillor

I am unreasonably euphoric these days.

This of course means that something is probably about to go disastrously wrong.

In the words of the poet: my cup is full/let it spill.

***
Things for which I am Unendingly Grateful
Flowering trees. New recipes. Work. Curly hair. My London sweater. Michelle. My family. Lemon Berry Cake. Coffee dates. Brunch dates. Dates. Lauren and her risotto. The feel of a new book. My bed. Blue skies and puffy clouds. Study carrel 13. The New York Times. Pretentious Sundays. Puns in Church. The Eucharist. Summer. Daffodils, pasque flowers, lilies, and roses. Anticipation. The MIA. Friends in Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Portland, Seattle, NYC. Hugs. The Metropolitan Diaries. Tolkien. Lewis. Johnson. Bonhoeffer. Mozart. Mendelssohn's Octet for Strings. Letters. Mary Oliver. Aunt Margaret's Rings. The smell of cut grass. Apples. Theology. Poetry. More than I can name.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Largemouth Bass


(I realize this is, in fact, a bluegill. Non-copyrighted, good photos of largemouth were difficult to find, so I went for the other Ashegon lake stand-by, the bluegill.)

For the past couple weeks I've been working on poems about my family. They're posted at the joint adventure in blogging in which Lauren and I have been engaged. I want my folks particularly to know how much I love them and that it's difficult not to be a bigger part of their daily lives. I am so often torn between my desire to be an independent adult and the knowledge that I am missing so much of the stuff that makes a family a family: broken hearts and weddings, births and funerals, Sunday dinners and Dad's softball games. I know Mom & Dad don't always understand the weird decisions I make about working in non-profit or getting degrees that don't seem very practical, but they've always supported me through my many and varied flip-outs.

I don't know how to tell them how much that means to me. The best I could do was write a couple poems and hope that they might understand. Early this week, I sent both of them copies of the poems. The one I wrote about Pa is about fishing at the cabin and how much I miss it.

A quick note about my parents and poetry. My mom once told me that her ideas about poetry and my poems were very different. This was, I think, her tactful way of telling me that she didn't like anything I wrote aside from the fact that I wrote it.

At anyrate, I sent the poems on to Mom & Pa. My father has recently acquired an email address and normally uses it to send me weird forwards. When I logged on to my email a day after I sent them, I received the following email from Pa.

Love the poem and look forward to doing that in real life. FYI They're largemouth bass and I'm too
lazy to dig for worms anymore.

This is, without a doubt, one of the best compliments I've ever received on one of my poems. Pa reminded me that despite my desire to keep acquiring degrees, save the world, or spend all of my spare time trying to wrangle words into submissions, there's still a part of me that my family loves and understands without question.