Having finished off the cashew nuts, I am no longer interesting to Sylvia Katt, so she has gone to bed, as should I -- oh, dear, there is that 'should' again, the word my psychiatrist friend says not to say. Well, I'm obviously not going to do it, as I am still here typing. Ah, yes, to think I started my working career typing "David the King" for Gladys Schmitt (who actually praised my work), and now I end up typing away daily at the end of my life. I wish I had Mrs.Schmitt here to cook for me. She was a wonderful woman and a great cook. All of the Schmitts were tall and thin, in spite of the fact that they ate like hungry wolves. I ate half of what they did, but I was always the last one at table, as I am a very slow eater. Guess it was my grandmother's fault, she insisted that I CHEW.
I really started out with something to say, but I cannot remember what it was. I had a nice note from the Geek Goddess today...she said her book has a lot of things that are Mac useable. I must get a copy and see. I am still angry with Apple for charging for the basic office stuff with the new Intel chip computers. Also, I cannot use my favorite program on my new Mac (PageMaker) as they didn't upgrade it to System 10. Quite unfair. Happily I could transfer my AppleWorks to the new computer or I would have been up the creek, as all my writing is on this. It is nice though that there are many free programs that one can use. Though I do miss SuperPaint also. Ye gods, I am stuck in the 90s....I, who taught so many people to use the Mac, am suddenly in need of someone to help ME out. I do wish Connie, whom I taught to use the Mac over long-distance to Chicago, would come out and teach me all the complicated things she now knows.
Well, now as I lie in bed, hoping for sleep, I think I shall discuss the next plans for what I am to do -- with myself, of course. I have discovered a great many craft sites online and have a longing to get back to making and designing new things with my healed hands. But I really must get all my books catalogued before I expire. My darling Elvira, who comes to take care of my household on Tues, Thurs and Friday, has been doing a magnificent job of 'finding' things I had forgotten I have, and is such a great help to me, as is my dear Ana, who comes on Sat. and washes my hair. Sylvia doesn't like her, probably because she fusses over me. SylviaKatt hates most people tho, as she is a rather nasty, spoiled brat. Ana doesn't give a damn, luckily. Ah.....well......
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
A Few Foolish Notes.....
I just finished skimming a few "Why start a blog" notes from someone who blogs constantly. Have to go through them (long, long) later and find out why. I still don't know why I did. But then, I have said most of my life that I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, and I am an ancient person. So, as Craig Ferguson always says, "Well, what did we learn tonight?"
I learned that I cannot STAND condi rice, who is nattering on to David Rose behind me. I should just turn then off I suppose, but let her continue to tell him how brilliant she is...I know she isn't in SO many ways. I love all her 3 and 4 syllable words, though. Anyone who can stare someone in the eyes and say georgie-poo is a brilliant man, has either a rather small brain or really knows how to lie easily.
I learned about a type of knitting I did not know about...and I have been knitting since I was about six years old -- but then, I think I try to learn something new every day, and usually do.
I learned that Pocahantas means a rotten, spoiled, annoying little brat, and that the woman we know as Pocahantas (if that is the spelling) had another name, but her father renamed her. I guess she annoyed him greatly. However, I further learned that she was a big wheel in her tribe, and her father was training her for greatness. Seems that the native Americans were much more sensible than we civilized people, and believed that women had brains and could become leaders. So there....and there were quite a few women who were tribal leaders. God knows we are tougher than men....they could never live through having a baby, after all.
I learned that sending my housekeeper to Costco for a large container of instant coffee is a very good idea.....well sending her there for wine and cashew nuts and almost anything is a good idea. She has managed to save me quite a bit of money recently, including today.
Now I shall click off Condi and David, and turn to good old Craig, whom I adore. That lovely Scotish accent, although not Edinburgh like my family, sounds so luvly. Goodness, the computer accepted 'luvly!' It didn't like Pocahantas and redlined it. As usual...AH well......
I learned that I cannot STAND condi rice, who is nattering on to David Rose behind me. I should just turn then off I suppose, but let her continue to tell him how brilliant she is...I know she isn't in SO many ways. I love all her 3 and 4 syllable words, though. Anyone who can stare someone in the eyes and say georgie-poo is a brilliant man, has either a rather small brain or really knows how to lie easily.
I learned about a type of knitting I did not know about...and I have been knitting since I was about six years old -- but then, I think I try to learn something new every day, and usually do.
I learned that Pocahantas means a rotten, spoiled, annoying little brat, and that the woman we know as Pocahantas (if that is the spelling) had another name, but her father renamed her. I guess she annoyed him greatly. However, I further learned that she was a big wheel in her tribe, and her father was training her for greatness. Seems that the native Americans were much more sensible than we civilized people, and believed that women had brains and could become leaders. So there....and there were quite a few women who were tribal leaders. God knows we are tougher than men....they could never live through having a baby, after all.
I learned that sending my housekeeper to Costco for a large container of instant coffee is a very good idea.....well sending her there for wine and cashew nuts and almost anything is a good idea. She has managed to save me quite a bit of money recently, including today.
Now I shall click off Condi and David, and turn to good old Craig, whom I adore. That lovely Scotish accent, although not Edinburgh like my family, sounds so luvly. Goodness, the computer accepted 'luvly!' It didn't like Pocahantas and redlined it. As usual...AH well......
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, poetry group, Tues. St. Patrick's Day
But I, I fear, am an Orange(wo)man, so I shall simply review the Monday poetry group...and perhaps my aging, drooping eyes, which bother me, particularly on a late night such as this one.
At the poetry group I read my poem with the longest title ever done there or by me. It wound up being nine lines, but not longer than the poem, as one I did was. I think that was the one about the Scarlett Pimpernel (always loved him). Poor Bristol is being talked about on the news behind me. I suppose I should write about her, but I cannot stand those Palin white trash.
When I was quite young I met many writers and poets through my mother and her wide circle of friends...I think the one I remember best was Langston Hughes, whom I adored. He wrote out one of my favorites of his poems for me. It is called Epitaph and is very short and funny:
Tell all my mourners to mourn in red
'Cause there ain't no sense in my being dead.
He was a dear, sweet little man and I loved talking to him. He was also very kind to spend so much time chatting with a most unsophisticated sixteen year old child...but he did.
Another of my favorite poets was Eve Merriam...here is my favorite of hers (from 1943):
The Coward
You, weeping wide at war, weep with me now
Cheating a little at peace, come near
And let us cheat together here.
Look at my guilt, mirror of my shame.
Deserter, I will not turn you in,
I am your trembling twin.
Afraid, our double knees lock in knocking fear
Running from the guns, we tumble upon each other.
Hide in my lap of terror, I am your mother.
Only two, and yet our howling
Can encircle the world's end.
Frightened, you are my only friend
And frightened we are, every one.
Someone must take a stand
Coward take my coward's hand.
I dissolve in tears each time I read this. I somehow, from somewhere, memorized the last two stanzas of this poem long ago, and it took me years to find the rest. Now it is engraved on my heart, all of it. I have written many anti-war poems, but none as perfect as this one. I wish I could have met Eve Merriam, but sadly I never did.
At the poetry group I read my poem with the longest title ever done there or by me. It wound up being nine lines, but not longer than the poem, as one I did was. I think that was the one about the Scarlett Pimpernel (always loved him). Poor Bristol is being talked about on the news behind me. I suppose I should write about her, but I cannot stand those Palin white trash.
When I was quite young I met many writers and poets through my mother and her wide circle of friends...I think the one I remember best was Langston Hughes, whom I adored. He wrote out one of my favorites of his poems for me. It is called Epitaph and is very short and funny:
Tell all my mourners to mourn in red
'Cause there ain't no sense in my being dead.
He was a dear, sweet little man and I loved talking to him. He was also very kind to spend so much time chatting with a most unsophisticated sixteen year old child...but he did.
Another of my favorite poets was Eve Merriam...here is my favorite of hers (from 1943):
The Coward
You, weeping wide at war, weep with me now
Cheating a little at peace, come near
And let us cheat together here.
Look at my guilt, mirror of my shame.
Deserter, I will not turn you in,
I am your trembling twin.
Afraid, our double knees lock in knocking fear
Running from the guns, we tumble upon each other.
Hide in my lap of terror, I am your mother.
Only two, and yet our howling
Can encircle the world's end.
Frightened, you are my only friend
And frightened we are, every one.
Someone must take a stand
Coward take my coward's hand.
I dissolve in tears each time I read this. I somehow, from somewhere, memorized the last two stanzas of this poem long ago, and it took me years to find the rest. Now it is engraved on my heart, all of it. I have written many anti-war poems, but none as perfect as this one. I wish I could have met Eve Merriam, but sadly I never did.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
New Day, New Year, New Life?
Funny, I felt that when Obama walked into the White House, it would be the real beginning of the new century, and a wonderful change for our country, not thinking about any new anything for me. Yesterday, however, I came to the realization that March day was the beginning of a new life for me. I have been foolishly going along in my life for the last seven years, thinking I had found a new life, but that seems to have ended yesterday. Now I'm alone, on my own and I had certainly better realize it and shape up to it. I have foolishly lived on wishes, wants and dreams, hopes and promises, but they disappeared in one tiny note yesterday, but not the Beatles yesterday. I shall not ever depend on anyone else again. I think I have learned my lesson.
Unfortunately, learning seems to have made me not only quite ill, but also vaguely agaraphobic. I do not want to leave my apartment, nor do I want to do all of the things I 'should be' doing. I'm a writer, but I don't want to write; I'm a knitter but I don't want to knit; I'm a crocheter with a huge unfinished afghan, but I don't want to crochet; I don't feel like eating; I can't seem to sleep; the sun was shining all day, but I sat here staring at my computer; I can't even google any of the things I usually want to know about. Forget the 'should do'....I can't even get to the 'must do.' Is this then a return to depressioor simply me acting like a silly teenager. I may never know.
In the meantime, I shall attempt a poem to cover the moment, and just quit.......
HOW CAN I HURT YOU, LET ME COUNT THE WAYS...
The promises swirl around my head,
The memories so strong in my mind,
The big, beautiful voice saying “I love you...”
The sweet, long, loving daily letters,
The sincerity of each precious word,
The adoring signature saying, “I love you...”
The coming together in delighted love,
The words that followed so excitedly,
The now new signature saying, “I adore you...”
The disappearance from my world,
The subtle change, less wording weekly,
“Hi’ not “Dear” -- “Bye” not “I love you...”
The short unhappy note and then gone,
The final nothing, “I’d better get to work...”
Oddly enough, a signature saying, “I love you...”
Now isn’t that just the joke of the century?
Unfortunately, learning seems to have made me not only quite ill, but also vaguely agaraphobic. I do not want to leave my apartment, nor do I want to do all of the things I 'should be' doing. I'm a writer, but I don't want to write; I'm a knitter but I don't want to knit; I'm a crocheter with a huge unfinished afghan, but I don't want to crochet; I don't feel like eating; I can't seem to sleep; the sun was shining all day, but I sat here staring at my computer; I can't even google any of the things I usually want to know about. Forget the 'should do'....I can't even get to the 'must do.' Is this then a return to depressioor simply me acting like a silly teenager. I may never know.
In the meantime, I shall attempt a poem to cover the moment, and just quit.......
HOW CAN I HURT YOU, LET ME COUNT THE WAYS...
The promises swirl around my head,
The memories so strong in my mind,
The big, beautiful voice saying “I love you...”
The sweet, long, loving daily letters,
The sincerity of each precious word,
The adoring signature saying, “I love you...”
The coming together in delighted love,
The words that followed so excitedly,
The now new signature saying, “I adore you...”
The disappearance from my world,
The subtle change, less wording weekly,
“Hi’ not “Dear” -- “Bye” not “I love you...”
The short unhappy note and then gone,
The final nothing, “I’d better get to work...”
Oddly enough, a signature saying, “I love you...”
Now isn’t that just the joke of the century?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Can't resist answering this post
I found the following post on an AOL 'News' board supposedly on Iraq war:
But don't you see, Erik? It wasn't Bush's recession. Or Clintons'. Or Reagans even, it was the work of the supposably 'smartest guys in the room' that ran roughshod over our financial institutions for decades. A house of cards that just happened to come down when it did. It was the world's greatest Ponzi scheme and the perpetrator walked off with billions. Legally! And throwing good money after bad is just going to sink us deeper and deeper. Its' going to be horrible.
My answer to this and other things she wrote that were similar and/or anti-Obama:
I am absolutely fascinated that ANYONE could imagine that Bernie Madoff is responsible for the horrible crash of our once great country. He just managed to steal all the money he could from a bunch of loyal and appreciative fellow Jews who thought they were getting a 12% return on their money. Small part of the larger market, I'd say.
The REST of the ruin of the country is certainly not anything to do with Barack Obama, who is trying desperately to rebuild a country that was DELIBERATELY RUINED by the bush gang and all their friends in PNAC. Go take a look at the PNAC directives, and you will see what their plans were. They were formed during the Clinton administration to 'get' Bill Clinton and turn the country back over to the repoops. They carefully chose a patsy with a name and a family they knew they could get big funding from and with, those rotten bush people. cheney, wolfy, rummy, kristol and all the rest (you'll find their names on their papers in PNAC, if you have the wits to read all that junk--I doubt that, I know bamma can't understand any of it). The idea, as you can see if you do manage to read their stuff, was to RUIN the country, all the while making sure that laws went through to get most of the money in the U.S. into the hands of the top 2% of the money people here. You know the kind of thing...no more taxes for the top money people...that sort of cute little idea, plus all the rest of the stuff snuck in during the bush gang's admin. As that rotten administration walked out of the White House and into that helicopter -- a lot more rotten than Nixon, too -- they laughed as they left the new administration with the worst mess we have ever had in our country.
Surely you don't think that the mess was 'made' suddenly during the first few days of the Obama administration. SURELY you cannot be that stupid (although DOLwhatever seems to be...his English and spelling are not those of anyone with an education -- about the same as bamma's) -- how long has Obama been in office? MOST of what is going on in Washington was done LONG before Obama came into the picture.,,.it was carefully planned primarily by cheney, kristol and wolfowitz even before they had chosen their patsy, bush, to run in that illegal election (well the finish was illegal). First and second.....thank god most people won't use those lovely touch- screen machines in elections anymore.
So, stop being so stupid and READ a bit more about what is going on in Washington and you will see that the present administration is trying as hard as they possibly can to rebuild a country that the bush gang deliberately RUINED for fun and profit. If you think it was a fun admin, more the pity for you, as you are not (I KNOW) one of the 2% who now have their filthy hands on 90% of all the money in this country. It is their fault, and that of the bush gang that the stock market is going crazy and the country is in the toilet. Let's hope that Obama and his INTELLIGENT FRIENDS can get us back on track or you too will be out on the street begging for scraps from the tables of the super wealthy.
And this is from a descendant of one of the Founding Fathers who has never had a moment of being poor and discriminated against -- but who, like the Roosevelts, has a love of her country and its people and wants to see everyone happy, healthy and well fed. Thank god Obama came along when he did, or we would certainly have fallen and become that third world nation. Now shut up and get out there and volunteer -- and let's get this country back on track again. I'm old, but I'm still volunteering.....and working like mad to help others.
But don't you see, Erik? It wasn't Bush's recession. Or Clintons'. Or Reagans even, it was the work of the supposably 'smartest guys in the room' that ran roughshod over our financial institutions for decades. A house of cards that just happened to come down when it did. It was the world's greatest Ponzi scheme and the perpetrator walked off with billions. Legally! And throwing good money after bad is just going to sink us deeper and deeper. Its' going to be horrible.
My answer to this and other things she wrote that were similar and/or anti-Obama:
I am absolutely fascinated that ANYONE could imagine that Bernie Madoff is responsible for the horrible crash of our once great country. He just managed to steal all the money he could from a bunch of loyal and appreciative fellow Jews who thought they were getting a 12% return on their money. Small part of the larger market, I'd say.
The REST of the ruin of the country is certainly not anything to do with Barack Obama, who is trying desperately to rebuild a country that was DELIBERATELY RUINED by the bush gang and all their friends in PNAC. Go take a look at the PNAC directives, and you will see what their plans were. They were formed during the Clinton administration to 'get' Bill Clinton and turn the country back over to the repoops. They carefully chose a patsy with a name and a family they knew they could get big funding from and with, those rotten bush people. cheney, wolfy, rummy, kristol and all the rest (you'll find their names on their papers in PNAC, if you have the wits to read all that junk--I doubt that, I know bamma can't understand any of it). The idea, as you can see if you do manage to read their stuff, was to RUIN the country, all the while making sure that laws went through to get most of the money in the U.S. into the hands of the top 2% of the money people here. You know the kind of thing...no more taxes for the top money people...that sort of cute little idea, plus all the rest of the stuff snuck in during the bush gang's admin. As that rotten administration walked out of the White House and into that helicopter -- a lot more rotten than Nixon, too -- they laughed as they left the new administration with the worst mess we have ever had in our country.
Surely you don't think that the mess was 'made' suddenly during the first few days of the Obama administration. SURELY you cannot be that stupid (although DOLwhatever seems to be...his English and spelling are not those of anyone with an education -- about the same as bamma's) -- how long has Obama been in office? MOST of what is going on in Washington was done LONG before Obama came into the picture.,,.it was carefully planned primarily by cheney, kristol and wolfowitz even before they had chosen their patsy, bush, to run in that illegal election (well the finish was illegal). First and second.....thank god most people won't use those lovely touch- screen machines in elections anymore.
So, stop being so stupid and READ a bit more about what is going on in Washington and you will see that the present administration is trying as hard as they possibly can to rebuild a country that the bush gang deliberately RUINED for fun and profit. If you think it was a fun admin, more the pity for you, as you are not (I KNOW) one of the 2% who now have their filthy hands on 90% of all the money in this country. It is their fault, and that of the bush gang that the stock market is going crazy and the country is in the toilet. Let's hope that Obama and his INTELLIGENT FRIENDS can get us back on track or you too will be out on the street begging for scraps from the tables of the super wealthy.
And this is from a descendant of one of the Founding Fathers who has never had a moment of being poor and discriminated against -- but who, like the Roosevelts, has a love of her country and its people and wants to see everyone happy, healthy and well fed. Thank god Obama came along when he did, or we would certainly have fallen and become that third world nation. Now shut up and get out there and volunteer -- and let's get this country back on track again. I'm old, but I'm still volunteering.....and working like mad to help others.
Hmmmmm...
Just spent some time working on my 'profile,' getting all the 'interests' in, then checking on others. I know, the backwards way of doing it, but, I just thought I'd check and see if there is anyone in San Francisco around my age. The old circle of friends begins to shrink as one ages, and most of my old friends are gone. Either dead or moved away or been dragged to some child's home, to rot without old friends. Not me -- they take me out of here in a very small box of my ashes, which will be placed in some Egyptian containers and handed out to family at the memorial a younger friend has planned for me (I wrote a lovely poem for her to read to my children and friends). Too bad I can't be there -- or as Woody Allen puts it, "I don't mind dying, I just don't want to be there when it happens." Gloria and I once planned a memorial for a friend of hers who was a comedian. We looked up all the funny quotes and jokes about dying and she read those. It was hilarious -- he would have loved it.
Carried away once more. After clicking on 'San Francisco' to see if there were ANY bloggers in my age group, I discovered a rather interesting thing: the average age of SF bloggers seems to be 22 -- definitely quite a bit younger than I -- and didn't see any over around 57. Yep, that's what I find on the street, in bars, everywhere. I've about given up...the younger crowd are not into chatting up an old lady, and older men are looking for all those 22 year old girls -- those fools.
Next I shall turn to 'interests' to see if there are any aging poets in the area, as my poetry group is dying off also, and we need some new blood...oh, we are not equipped with fangs....we are simply looking for a few new poets. We meet on Mondays at 1pm, and read in the beautiful Yerba Buena Gardens a couple of times in the summer during the Summer in the Park Festival.
Now that I think about it, perhaps I should be writing this in Craig's List...and I must remember this summer to invite Craig. He is literary I know -- I met him at one of the Litquake things.
Carried away once more. After clicking on 'San Francisco' to see if there were ANY bloggers in my age group, I discovered a rather interesting thing: the average age of SF bloggers seems to be 22 -- definitely quite a bit younger than I -- and didn't see any over around 57. Yep, that's what I find on the street, in bars, everywhere. I've about given up...the younger crowd are not into chatting up an old lady, and older men are looking for all those 22 year old girls -- those fools.
Next I shall turn to 'interests' to see if there are any aging poets in the area, as my poetry group is dying off also, and we need some new blood...oh, we are not equipped with fangs....we are simply looking for a few new poets. We meet on Mondays at 1pm, and read in the beautiful Yerba Buena Gardens a couple of times in the summer during the Summer in the Park Festival.
Now that I think about it, perhaps I should be writing this in Craig's List...and I must remember this summer to invite Craig. He is literary I know -- I met him at one of the Litquake things.
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