Well, I think I did... the main thing I learned is that as one gets to be as old as I am, one often hears directions on 'how to do it' as a lot of 'blah, blah, blah.' I just spent half an hour looking at several how-to's for 'blogger' and got nowhere. Silly me, I never consider all those little icons, as often when I do, I get nowhere. Thank god I seem to still have a sort of intuitive feeling when it comes to how to do it (anything). I actually at last figured out how to put a newer photo of Mark and family on here. The last time I did that was when Charlie was new... and now there is Max to add to the brood. If I haven't mentioned it before, my darling son Mark and his beautiful wife, Melody are now the proud parents of four: clockwise from the top of the latest photo... Callie Elizabeth, age 12; Bella (Isabella Victoria), age 10; Maxwell Raymond, age 9 mo.; and Charles (Charlie) age 7. They are all the joy and delight of Grandma Peg, who wishes she could be with them in person for a bit. My tiny grandmother, Mama Whitney, who fit under my outstretched arm, would simply say, shaking her little finger under our noses, "You're just like all those BIG Cartwrights," as we Cartwrights do tend to be tall. Grandpa Cartwright was one of the tallest men in Port Austin, Michigan, and all of my aunts and uncles were the same... I guess Lancashire people tend to be tall and sturdy. It is a joy to look at my family and see such a bright and beautiful group. I seem to have handed down the best of the family looks and brains to Mark, who passed them on to his kidlets. Well, marrying Melody was a pretty good move on his part, as she is not only a beauty, but also the best mother I know and has brought them up in a way that not only I, but all the Cartwright and Whitney parents and grandparents would applaud. Jessie Margaret Whitney Cartwright, my mother, and their great grandmother would have loved all of these beautiful (and very smart) children to distraction... she used to say, "I like children who can talk to me." Starting with Tom Rodd, she had a lot of grandchildren who could do just that, and this crew fit the bill just as perfectly. I love these kids and miss them terribly!
Happy Thanksgiving, Happy Chanukka, Happy weekend to all....... from the family elder!
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
I CANNOT SLEEP
After much yawning, and weeping through the yawns, I finally lay down to sleep, but sleep will not come. The yawns and tears have stopped, but here I am, worn out from pool exercises over at Davies... having to go back tomorrow (today) to see Michelle and do more exercises, yet I cannot sleep. Too late to take one of those lovely sleeping pills some doctor gave me, as I do not want to sleep through my appointment with Michelle... and to add to the nightmare quality of it all, Sylvia is and has been, up, yowling and getting into everything I tell her to stay out of. Going over and sticking her paws into the venetian blinds, climbing down behind the TV, leaping from chair to chair to windowsill, all the while sounding like the worst Siamese in heat. She is neither of those. Perhaps I shall soon be singing a little song similar to Loudon Wainwright III... "Dead Cat In the Middle of the Road..." Of course, a lot of it is because I had the nerve to go out without her and be gone all afternoon... then come home smelling of pool chemicals to my little darling who now thinks since she slept all day, I should stay up and play with her. I love the night, the quiet, the moon when you can see it, the stars which I wonder if I shall ever see again, the way stories used to flow out of me... ah, will they ever again??? But not when I am expected at a therapy appointment in the early afternoon.
Besides, the night now seems to simply entangle me in all the sad memories of past love... oh, Kirkie-boo, where are you??... and burden me with thoughts of all the things I should be doing... putting together all the S.F. poems and drawing a foggy cover for a book I may never get put together... although I do have a mock-up of it lying around somewhere... or even finishing the long ago set of 35 handmade books of mushy love poems that actually were written in the old, olden days BK... the after ones are much better, less mushy and sometimes quite funny. I guess I really do write a little bit like Billy Collins. Funny that I still haven't lost my sense of humour... and remain true to my English heritage... I love to spell the English way... like the 3-Day Labour Day contest. Always cracks me up, as it is run out of Canada, but done on a U.S. holiday weekend. I wonder if Canada actually has a Labour Day... I know it isn't on ours anyway. Wonder how they will like my 100 page conversation. This year my 'novel' was about 2 people mainly... primarily done in a long conversation, the two of them meeting, getting to know one another, stuck together by circumstance, talking and talking and talking. I was always told that I write conversations well, so I decided to try doing just that in a whole book... well, the size of a novelette, but certainly LONG.
I really should try to send the Cece story out... unfortunately there aren't any of the women's magazines that we had around when I was young, where it might fit well. I can see it being illustrated by that great illustrator who worked for Cosmopolitan when I was a teenager. Funny, I cannot remember his name, and I adored him when I was a kid. His men were all unbelievably handsome and the women all gorgeous, and I knew his name and his bio... now the only thing I remember is that he loved women who wore BRIGHT red lipstick and nail polish. Of course he did... he drew them all the time. Should send out a lot of stuff... god knows I could use the money to pay for fixing the slats on the bed and a dozen other little things that need to be done, plus all the mice I am surrounded by and other little jade thingies I should not have been bidding on in the middle of other nights I could not sleep. Don't do it, Peggy... don't look, there will always be something precious you, like little Markie...NEED. (I need it, Ma, I NEED it!) Oh, don't we all, dear one, don't we all.
I need to go and see that adorable new baby, Max. Well, and all the rest of the crew. I do have the most adorable grandchildren anyone ever had. They are bright, beautiful, handsome and funny. If I knew how to do it, I would put the darling little videos Callie sent me on You Tube... one of my friends who saw the ones she sent me said that's where they belong. If I knew how seems to be my eternal cry these days... I have not kept up with the electronic ease one must have these days... I don't know how to do anything with my phone... it has a camera and all sorts of other stuff that I don't know how to use... I haven't hooked up the video/dvd thing Whitney got for me to use with my TV, nor the clock radio, nor the little answering machine for the phone... oh lordy I NEED a grown up GRANDCHILD... or at least a nice man friend who would come over and help me out. But no... I get a Donald, who couldn't do anything but leave a trail of cracker crumbs all over my house. I am still sweeping them up once in awhile. Where are all those engineers I turned down for years... I could use you now guys. No, not really, although .......
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... ah your Shakespeare..... he should haf been a Russian
To die... to sleep... but in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off our mortal coil......must give us pause....
Today is called the Feast of Crispian... he that stands with me today shall rouse him at the name of Crispian...... and gentlemen in England now abed, shall count their manhood cheap, whilst any speak... who fought with us upon St. Crispin's Daaaaaaay. (I love 'whilst')
oh dear..... I am losing it. I used to know all the great speeches from Henry V... and dozens of others from Shakespeare, by far my favorite writer. Perhaps that is where I learned to write great conversations..... and I should (again!!!) get back to my play for Alec Baldwin... 2 people talking and talking and talking... my idea of fun................... say goodnight, Peggy.................. good night Peggy............................
Besides, the night now seems to simply entangle me in all the sad memories of past love... oh, Kirkie-boo, where are you??... and burden me with thoughts of all the things I should be doing... putting together all the S.F. poems and drawing a foggy cover for a book I may never get put together... although I do have a mock-up of it lying around somewhere... or even finishing the long ago set of 35 handmade books of mushy love poems that actually were written in the old, olden days BK... the after ones are much better, less mushy and sometimes quite funny. I guess I really do write a little bit like Billy Collins. Funny that I still haven't lost my sense of humour... and remain true to my English heritage... I love to spell the English way... like the 3-Day Labour Day contest. Always cracks me up, as it is run out of Canada, but done on a U.S. holiday weekend. I wonder if Canada actually has a Labour Day... I know it isn't on ours anyway. Wonder how they will like my 100 page conversation. This year my 'novel' was about 2 people mainly... primarily done in a long conversation, the two of them meeting, getting to know one another, stuck together by circumstance, talking and talking and talking. I was always told that I write conversations well, so I decided to try doing just that in a whole book... well, the size of a novelette, but certainly LONG.
I really should try to send the Cece story out... unfortunately there aren't any of the women's magazines that we had around when I was young, where it might fit well. I can see it being illustrated by that great illustrator who worked for Cosmopolitan when I was a teenager. Funny, I cannot remember his name, and I adored him when I was a kid. His men were all unbelievably handsome and the women all gorgeous, and I knew his name and his bio... now the only thing I remember is that he loved women who wore BRIGHT red lipstick and nail polish. Of course he did... he drew them all the time. Should send out a lot of stuff... god knows I could use the money to pay for fixing the slats on the bed and a dozen other little things that need to be done, plus all the mice I am surrounded by and other little jade thingies I should not have been bidding on in the middle of other nights I could not sleep. Don't do it, Peggy... don't look, there will always be something precious you, like little Markie...NEED. (I need it, Ma, I NEED it!) Oh, don't we all, dear one, don't we all.
I need to go and see that adorable new baby, Max. Well, and all the rest of the crew. I do have the most adorable grandchildren anyone ever had. They are bright, beautiful, handsome and funny. If I knew how to do it, I would put the darling little videos Callie sent me on You Tube... one of my friends who saw the ones she sent me said that's where they belong. If I knew how seems to be my eternal cry these days... I have not kept up with the electronic ease one must have these days... I don't know how to do anything with my phone... it has a camera and all sorts of other stuff that I don't know how to use... I haven't hooked up the video/dvd thing Whitney got for me to use with my TV, nor the clock radio, nor the little answering machine for the phone... oh lordy I NEED a grown up GRANDCHILD... or at least a nice man friend who would come over and help me out. But no... I get a Donald, who couldn't do anything but leave a trail of cracker crumbs all over my house. I am still sweeping them up once in awhile. Where are all those engineers I turned down for years... I could use you now guys. No, not really, although .......
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... ah your Shakespeare..... he should haf been a Russian
To die... to sleep... but in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off our mortal coil......must give us pause....
Today is called the Feast of Crispian... he that stands with me today shall rouse him at the name of Crispian...... and gentlemen in England now abed, shall count their manhood cheap, whilst any speak... who fought with us upon St. Crispin's Daaaaaaay. (I love 'whilst')
oh dear..... I am losing it. I used to know all the great speeches from Henry V... and dozens of others from Shakespeare, by far my favorite writer. Perhaps that is where I learned to write great conversations..... and I should (again!!!) get back to my play for Alec Baldwin... 2 people talking and talking and talking... my idea of fun................... say goodnight, Peggy.................. good night Peggy............................
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