wet pebbles

Nana's Notes

check your sources. . .

seven years later
wet pebbles
turned 65 yesterday. . .haven't been here since 2010. . .suc ha strange trip for sure. . .where to start. . .maybe just continue. . .glad I came across this from a link in an old facebook post. . .a lot of writing I did ! And wonderful memories of the grandkids. . .and the kids. . .and the hubby when we were living a happy dream in the 3rd little house in the sky. . .all gone now. . .grands grown. . .kids in their 40s. . .I turned 65 yesterday and marched in the womens march to protest this surreal new presidential regime. . .in seattle we marched. . .i am single again and live in someone else's house. . .in a room. . .a blue room. . .no kitty, no hubby, no magnets to pull me home, wherever that is. . .i gave all those fridge magnets to my daughter last week. . .divesting, divesting. . all my life is in one blue room. . .and i miss my husband and our life but he turned into someone else and so did our life. . .so i left. . .and last night, at midnight, on my 65th birthday no less, he send me a facebook message to say he is deciding whether to live. . .because since i left his life has fallen apart. . .slowly but surely. . .but i can't save him anymore. . .i left four years ago to save myself.

but i don't feel very saved.

long time no write
wet pebbles
hmmmm. . .nothing since January. . .been facebooking too much I guess! Gotta wonder how Live Journal is faring against the onslaught of FB. . .

Many many thoughts of late. . .should capture them here, for my own clarity. Pictures, too. I will be back.

Quick thoughts in this moment:

^ glad I had a good phone visit with Sean this past weekend and that he sounded so relaxed and happy :)

^ glad it was CHEAP to fix my old Honda's AC since we are FINALLY having some 80 degree weather in the PNW!

^ glad I have a job! with benefits! ah this financial climate is scary. . .was behind a young man in line at Subway sandwich shop today. He was 90 cents short to pay for his lunch, and his debit card was declined. He looked so stricken. . .embarrased. . .I handed him a dollar. Glad I could do that.

^ glad I have a husband! Life is much nicer shared :)

^ glad I have such wonderful, amazing children and children-in-law. . .and grandkids! And my sweet sister and HER kids and grandkids! And all the dogs! And my very fat cat! I am very very blessed in my family. . .

^ glad for all my grrlfriends. . .and for the AMAZEMENT of reconnecting with a few from high school, 40 years in the past! ahh the magic of facebook. . .

^ glad I live by the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea. . .

some recent haiku:

on driving across the soaring green suspension bridge between Washington / Oregon, at Astoria. . .

Fri, 30 Jul 2010 15:00:32 PST
a mirror pond flat
water reflects green girders
old iron bridge rises

on reading a friend's wrenching poetry as she deals with new widowhood. . .

Thu, 22 Jul 2010 12:26:56 PST
in the stark white space
calligraphs of emotion
she speaks her stunned heart

that's all for now :) oh - except for my very fat cat. . .

sunday poetry slam sermon
wet pebbles
the words: earth sky children brought rebelled cattle
owns drag covered ointment vineyard worship

the poem (forged from emotions swirling around the recent loss of that most awesome cat - Miss Lu - RIP)

between earth and sky the spirits of our children
(human feline canine)
brought forth in trust and memory and courage
(even as we rebelled, afraid)
between sea and heaven the energy of our children
(bovine equine serpentine)
owns our very spark and thrill of soul and mind
(even as we must be dragged into acceptance)
ah these newborns covered in the white slick ointment
of life of love of joy of pain: we risk it all
to love again and again and again, only to finally
lose; or be lost. . .or have we?
this vineyard is RICH in the mingled tears and
heart thrills of that circle and we worship
at the altar of nuzzles, purrs, lows, licks
the sugar the sweet of it softens the pang. . .

here's to a hot puget sound summer :-)
wet pebbles
under the influence of. .. summer heat!

we are having 85+ degree days
we are not used to this
largess of summer sun
we gripe that it is too hot
we fume that we are damp in
all our hidden creases
we pout that the stores
around here do not have AC
but yet but yet
it is a certain
giddy freedom
to wander around
in thin cotton
and flip flops
day after
hot day

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~in contrast

this morning at 6
seawater heavy air drips
chill salt on my car

May Haikus - Twaikus
wet pebbles
all voices carry / but mine is too disturbing / i must learn silence
12:06 PM May 1st

a friend called today / while the clock ticks marking time / we spend some minutes
8:23 PM May 2nd

the sky clouds over / baby's gone on a jet plane / no more sun today
6:54 PM May 3rd

angry wind and rain / shutting off the computer / lamp blinks fast! on off
12:39 AM May 5th

driving all morning / two lanes awash in wind rain / suddenly: sun dappl'd!
6:52 PM May 7th

four generations / my son BBQ’d salmon / happy mother’s day
May 10 at 8:42pm on FB only

from my daughter, Kat Oak
a cacophony / crystalline birdcalls & coos / climb up the treetops
4:32 am May 18th on FB

when the budget cuts / training is the first to go / just pay my unemployment
5:20 PM May 18th

miracle morning / sun washed tepid air and a / few dollars to spend ;-)
9:51 AM May 21st

rich asian noodles / soba udon somen strands / steaming dinner time
8:50 PM May 21st

yesterday’s mishap/of missed boats and caught traffic / ended fine: friend, wine ;-)
11:20 AM May 24th

my wish to all our sailors / sail home safe sail home soon, throw / those anchors away!
11:54 AM May 25th

mason’s preschool graduation
they are shy; they march / bobbing red caps gowns balloons/ preschool commencement
10:27 PM May 26th

Proud Parents and Child! Beth, Mason, Gavin

cloudy romance day
wet pebbles
this is the most beautiful, spot-on love poem I have read in a very long time. . .maybe the most beautiful, save the bard ;-) had to share -

Delphiniums in a Window Box
by Dean Young May 18, 2009

Every sunrise, even strangers’ eyes.

Not necessarily swans, even crows,

even the evening fusillade of bats.

That place where the creek goes underground,

how many weeks before I see you again?

Stacks of books, every page, characters’

rages and poets’ strange contraptions

of syntax and song, every song

even when there isn’t one.

Every thistle, splinter, butterfly

over the drainage ditches. Every stray.

Did you see the meteor shower?

Did it feel like something swallowed?

Every question, conversation

even with almost nothing, cricket, cloud,

because of you I’m talking to crickets, clouds,

confiding in a cat. Everyone says,

Come to your senses, and I do, of you.

Every touch electric, every taste you,

every smell, even burning sugar, every

cry and laugh. Toothpicked samples

at the farmers’ market, every melon,

plum, I come undone, undone.

Delphinium doing great!

Last of the April Twaikus!
wet pebbles

stagnant office air
late afternoon dust motes drift
a keyboard clacks

5:14 PM Apr 8th


all day long staring
spreadsheets and files; outside
a hawk circles for prey

9:55 PM Apr 9th


no words will come today
things turned cold, again, just as
i was thinking spring!

11:41 PM Apr 10th


german easter meal
three generations gather
a fourth taught me the food

9:54 PM Apr 11th


lazy day living room
hot tea mom's blanket and tv
rain rages outside

11:36 PM Apr 12th


desk lamp tv screen
computer cold light in the night
i wish you were here

12:42 AM Apr 15th


happy to be home
hubby typing kitty preening
james taylor singing

8:16 PM Apr 17th


chilly gray spring day
music on the blip box makes
for sunshine inside

3:44 PM Apr 18th


coffee smells just right
i have a new computer
the cat purrs and preens

12:24 PM Apr 19th


morning on the sound
gray fog soft over the park
farmers market stalls drip

9:43 AM Apr 25th


housework piles up
sunshine tumbles down around
my best intentions

12:03 PM Apr 26th


cherry trees burst ripe
pink white clover pregnant grass
spring is so sexy!

10:23 PM Apr 27th


gotta get to work
lingering over coffee
and this 'puter screen

9:26 AM Apr 28th


a new resume
capturing the last three years
my pen has run dry

1:46 AM Apr 30th


npr found haiku:

mexico is closed
flu muffled land; you can hear
the butterflies fly

7:23 PM Apr 30th

Sunday Slam Sermon
wet pebbles
the words: Pitched, mineral, mental, crossed, crystal, association, slave,
duality, equipment, tent


the poem:


steep and sticky as a pitched
tar-paper roof in the southern sun
acrid bite like mineral water
from the sulphur spring
this mental jousting
this ever-crossed purpose
we find ourselves
negotiatng time and again

nothing is crystal clear
but some things ought
at least be agreed to
in this association of love
and lust and income and outflow

"we don't choose who to love"
if that is true then we are indeed
slaves to our hearts kaplunk kerbump
pulsing rich red and unavoidable
drowning us in the harsh duality
of sensible and sensual

i don't have the equipment for that,
for that tuggle to last forever;
i grow tired. . .i want to
meet in the middle, in an origami
folded tent like a green flower or
a canvas cup to fill
with our accord. . .

Sunday Slam Sermon
wet pebbles
the words:

wrong cast pray prosper music disdain captivity
play vows gold

the poem:

regrets like little boats

is it so wrong
to cast fate like
little blue paper
boats into the sea
and pray they find
safe harbor?

or maybe i will
fold them from green
paper and set them off
to prosper, money stacked
thick and close like
the lines on rich
sheet music.

do i disdain wealth?
no more than i disdain
action prompted by fear. . .
i have been held in
turbulent captivity
by my fears for so long!

i want to escape the hold
walk the plank play in the
swells of wild salt and
make vows to no one.
courage then is
the most promising
booty, the most
certain chest of gold.

Sunday Slam Sermon
wet pebbles
haven't done one of these in a while, kids. . .pen is a bit rusty. . .best to dive right in, although these words are a bit more of a challenge than i'd like after a writing break. . .but here goes!

the words: name, living, Arabia, vixen[s], dump, camel, verucca[s]
peat, mirage, musk, pot-bellied, terracotta, scheme

the source: The Queen of Sheba, Kathleen Jamie

the poem:

lost in the desert

do you know my name?
i am living in Arabia now
like a vixen, sleek, red
sly and carnivorous,
flashing yellow eyes

i see children all around me
in this dump, living side by
side with the dusty camels
catching all their diseases
running their verucca infested
soles over the dirty sand

i sit in the blinding heat
dreaming of peat bogs
cool green trees and
raised glasses in the pub:
a mirage of other times

when I wasn't a musk smelly
fox, pot-bellied with hunger
licking warm water from
some broken terracotta
scheming desperately to get home. . .


(that was hard!)


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