I guess we should feel joyous about the fact that everyone now can have health care. Ah, but the insurance companies are still there (I always imagine them as Scrooge, rubbing his hands together, gleefully, of course), and still collecting plenty for little. Why didn't the Democrats insist on the single payer option. This is not my fight anymore I suppose. I have Medicare... and I am one of the lucky, as I am old. Now isn't that a weird thing. The wealthy republicans are now angry... not just the trailer trash ones. Let's hope that some of this is good and will help the poor... oh, I hope...
Silliness of the evening... I find that at night my lovely, soft, unlined hands suddenly show all sorts of blue veins under the lamplight... and the left hand has a perfect heart shape of veins... the only mark that shows on that hand, while the other, or right hand has an ugly criss-cross of blue veins. Ah, Peggy... in the evening, under artificial light, always extend your lovely left hand to strangers and friends... well, I said it was silliness! I love the little heart, surrounded by small marks inflicted by Ms.Sylvia Katt, when I was stupid enough to play with her.
And as I mention her Ms. Sylvia leaps ono my lap, carefully turns around so that she can settle in her favorite way, head to my left, the only way she will lie on my lap. A creature of habit this one.
My... 10 million girls were aborted in India. If the first born was a girl, off the mother went to check out the gender of the second. If a girl... gone. Oh, I'm listening to the BBC, and they are full of information... tonight one 'the dead.' According to them, half the world's deaths do not get counted. So all these death statistics are all made up? Including the dreadful ones reported by the anti-abortion nuts? Perhaps. Oh, dear, now we are back to the poor 'good' priests, one of whom said they are in danger if they wear clerical collars because of the reports on 'bad' ones. There is no good news tonight.
However... as I look up to my right, I see a lovely big bunch of daffodills... brilliant ruffled yellow blossoms... Spring is here. We have had the strangest weather... one day of sniveling rain, one of bright sun... and back to the dull day, followed by more warm sunshine, filling my tall window with warm, wonderful sunlight... and a little finch who has a lot of nerve. He comes, sits on a long green shoot now covered with green seed pods he is not interested in. Ah, but he seems to be interested in getting my attention, as he sits there and taps on the glass, over and over. The first time he did this, some days ago, perhaps last week, I ran in from the kitchen to see who was tapping so loud on my window. It sounded like perhaps a person tapping with a key or some metal thing. But no, there was a tiny bird, banging on the window. He left, then came back and tapped some more. Sylvia didn't see him until about his third visit, when she stalked quietly across the room, jumped lightly onto the table by the window, making not a sound, and leaped. I swear he laughed and flew away, only to come back once she had settled down to sleep on her fake fur bed. He woke her up, laughed again and flew away. She is most unhappy about this brave little bird. Everyone tells me to let him in, but I am not interested in having my complete room torn apart by a flying cat.
I can smell the daffodills, and if the day tomorrow there is light rain... I shall go out in the rain and enjoy the Spring... my favorite season.
Showing posts with label Spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spring. Show all posts
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Monday, May 4, 2009
Spring, Ah Spring
Good heavens, here it is May already. Oh to be in England sped right by...I must have missed it. Yep, I made the mistake of signing up for certain political articles from the New York Times -- here I sit, reading the articles, then looking over at the OpEd, follow that to the original they are writing about....and on and on, as more articles pop up every time I go back to the mailbox. Why can't the writers at the NYTimes just write a bit slower. I cannot keep up. I have now fallen in love with several of them. Why? I suppose because they always agree with me. And I thought I was getting even more radical than Jessie...or has the whole world fiinally begun to 'get it.'
But why are our children not back from Iraq? Another CA boy died yesterday. It is not right...well, yes it is because of the 'right.' Those nasty old members of PNAC who planned this horrible war way before they put their little patsy into the White House,, using the far right wing, the religious right and the right-wing talk shows. They are all weak now -- why can't we just end their war and bring home the children, so that a whole generation of poor unfortunates are not wiped out.
A cab driver told me a very sad story today. He said that his brother-in-law bought something in a convenience store for $6.50. Needing some change, he gave the kid a $20 bill, a dollar and fifty cents. The kid looked confused, so the man said, "Just give me $15 in change." To which the kid replied, "I don't have any fifteen dollar bills." That story and Jay Leno's "Jay Walking" when he interviews kids on the street, asking them questions anyone in my generation would laugh at if we were asked...and they don't ever know the answers. They can't identify a photo of Bill Clinton, or any of the Senators...yet they can sing any of the current 'cute' advertising jungles. Oh lordy, how I hope Obama can fix our educational system. Anybody out there know a kid with a high school education who can name all the states in the U.S.? I used to make up special homework for my son....and he could! His teacher let him get away with naming five--not me.
I take cabs quite often and am impressed with the use of the English language by all of the guys from all over the world who drive the cabs. Yet our children can barely speak their own language as well as these immigrants. Many of them speak several languages. I love sitting on a bus in SF and listening to all the different languages, and hope that the children are learning the language of their parents. I remember years ago talking to Kaye Ballard (whose parents came from Italy). She told me that when she was a kid she was ashamed of their speaking Italian and constantly told her mother to speak English. Sadly, when she grew up and had the money to travel, she had to go to a school to learn to speak Italian. "I coulda learned at home," she wailed.
I did rather badly in my years of French classes in school, primarily because I didn't like the teachers. I was one of those kids who made a C or below when I didn't like the teacher, and straight As when I did. But, when I did finally get to Europe and went to Paris, the Frnech found my dreadful attempts to speak to them quite charming, and usually simply switched to English to speak with me -- after all, they had all had English lessons in school. I lived in the Netherlands for six months, where I found Fielding's (travel book) comment about the Dutch very true: "Every man, woman, child, dog and cat speaks and understands English." And not just English, they also speak French, German, Spanish and often many more languages.
Finally, yesterday was Pete Seeger's 90th birthday. Happy Birthday, Pete. I was in tears often as I listened to a radio tribute to him on KALW, our local Public Radio station. Here's my take:
"When Will They Ever Learn"
I have wondered the same, Pete,
As the tears trickle down my cheek,
Caught by the tenth damp tissue,
Listening to you and many others
Sing and lecture and sing, sing, sing
Even I, who technically cannot sing,
Find a tiny voice inside of me
That joins in, becoming louder
As always when I hear you and
Arlo, Bruce and so many others
Sing out in protest, the protest
We have sung and talked about
Since both you and I were young.
Tomorrow is your 90th birthday
And maybe, just maybe, we have
A man in the White House, someone
Who finally must have listened to us
Well Pete, Happy Birthday at 90
We can only hope, can’t we?
But why are our children not back from Iraq? Another CA boy died yesterday. It is not right...well, yes it is because of the 'right.' Those nasty old members of PNAC who planned this horrible war way before they put their little patsy into the White House,, using the far right wing, the religious right and the right-wing talk shows. They are all weak now -- why can't we just end their war and bring home the children, so that a whole generation of poor unfortunates are not wiped out.
A cab driver told me a very sad story today. He said that his brother-in-law bought something in a convenience store for $6.50. Needing some change, he gave the kid a $20 bill, a dollar and fifty cents. The kid looked confused, so the man said, "Just give me $15 in change." To which the kid replied, "I don't have any fifteen dollar bills." That story and Jay Leno's "Jay Walking" when he interviews kids on the street, asking them questions anyone in my generation would laugh at if we were asked...and they don't ever know the answers. They can't identify a photo of Bill Clinton, or any of the Senators...yet they can sing any of the current 'cute' advertising jungles. Oh lordy, how I hope Obama can fix our educational system. Anybody out there know a kid with a high school education who can name all the states in the U.S.? I used to make up special homework for my son....and he could! His teacher let him get away with naming five--not me.
I take cabs quite often and am impressed with the use of the English language by all of the guys from all over the world who drive the cabs. Yet our children can barely speak their own language as well as these immigrants. Many of them speak several languages. I love sitting on a bus in SF and listening to all the different languages, and hope that the children are learning the language of their parents. I remember years ago talking to Kaye Ballard (whose parents came from Italy). She told me that when she was a kid she was ashamed of their speaking Italian and constantly told her mother to speak English. Sadly, when she grew up and had the money to travel, she had to go to a school to learn to speak Italian. "I coulda learned at home," she wailed.
I did rather badly in my years of French classes in school, primarily because I didn't like the teachers. I was one of those kids who made a C or below when I didn't like the teacher, and straight As when I did. But, when I did finally get to Europe and went to Paris, the Frnech found my dreadful attempts to speak to them quite charming, and usually simply switched to English to speak with me -- after all, they had all had English lessons in school. I lived in the Netherlands for six months, where I found Fielding's (travel book) comment about the Dutch very true: "Every man, woman, child, dog and cat speaks and understands English." And not just English, they also speak French, German, Spanish and often many more languages.
Finally, yesterday was Pete Seeger's 90th birthday. Happy Birthday, Pete. I was in tears often as I listened to a radio tribute to him on KALW, our local Public Radio station. Here's my take:
"When Will They Ever Learn"
I have wondered the same, Pete,
As the tears trickle down my cheek,
Caught by the tenth damp tissue,
Listening to you and many others
Sing and lecture and sing, sing, sing
Even I, who technically cannot sing,
Find a tiny voice inside of me
That joins in, becoming louder
As always when I hear you and
Arlo, Bruce and so many others
Sing out in protest, the protest
We have sung and talked about
Since both you and I were young.
Tomorrow is your 90th birthday
And maybe, just maybe, we have
A man in the White House, someone
Who finally must have listened to us
Well Pete, Happy Birthday at 90
We can only hope, can’t we?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Neglecting again...
Here it is April...that overdone month...April in Paris....Oh to be in England, now that April's there ...and on and on. But I shall never forget getting on the BOAC plane at Ohare in the snow and slush and looking down as we went into Gatwick at the green everywhere on April 1...then gazing out as we took the tube into the City at all the green lawns and gardens before we rushed into the tunnel. London even smelled like Spring that year, and was so beautiful to see again that I cried...but then, I'm one of those weepers...sad, happy, whenever. Sometimes I'm not even sure.....
Ah, and I at last beginning to find and join websites that might help me in my writing...that are in some way related at least. I joined Twitter, although I have no reason why and my only 'followers' are people who are selling something or themselves (as in Tony Robbins and other similar types). I did find Mark Bittman at the nytimes.com website...I LOVE that man. I am going to make crackers ....he taught me how. He cooks like I do...combining all sorts of things he has in the fridge....well, maybe he doesn't and just puts his there, but that is what I do. I just pulled a piece of frozen salmon out of my freezer, opened up the aluminium, added a sliced up small onion, some herbs scronged from neighbor's gardens, a bit of soy sauce, some Maggie sauce and some wine, wrapped it back up and put in the oven, while on the stove I was cooking some fresh noodles and carrot slices given to me yesterday. Put them both into a big wide, flattish bowl, so the sauce blended into the noodles and congratulated me on the great meal, just as Mark Bittman does. As my old nursemaid Mary Phykos used to say: "Mine gott, how I can cook!" We old types in this building are so lucky, we are constantly given all sorts of food.
Well, to get back to the topic....I found another great blogging area that seems to be for creative people. I was led there by a dear little girl who is a new knitter and making sox has her knitting feverishly. I am on the writing site WEbook, but a couple of days ago I found another interesting writing site...eScribe. There is not enough time in the day now, as I am looking madlly at the knitting sites, beading sites, writing sites.....and on and on, and no time to actually DO anything. ...and I really must make something for the grandchildren, who are going to have birthdays very soon.....all three of them. I shall have to work very hard and get something done. I promised Bella that I would make her a beautiful purple sweater, and I MUST do it. Then I have to make something for the other two, or they will be upset with me.
Of course, I am also in sort of a state of depression, as my guy has disappeared once again, without a word, of course. I realize that he is going through hell....lost job, lost savings that were in his 401k,,,,lost house, as court must have been on the big lawyer's side...but he should know that I don't care if he is penniless...I love him, not his STUFF! I guess guys never realize that.
I also found a free place to look for new friends (mine are dying off or disappearing fast) that is called 'plentyoffish'....so I put a bio in for fun. Actually, I have been trying for YEARS to find a writing partner.....or even someone who could write and perform music for my poetry....or one who could illustrate my books.....which is really something I should be doing for myself, but I am getting so lazy....and writing all alone is often such a chore. I shouldn't say that, as I sometimes feel that someone is writing through me, as it comes out so fast and furiously when I sit down and start to write. I've had no trouble writing the 3-day novels for Labour Day....although I am no good at throwing in f**k you....or other lovely phrases every page or two. I seem to be able to write a whole novel without swearing at all.....I guess that is boring to the younger generation, but I don't really write for them.....hell, I write for me. There....a swear word in my blog!
And with that I shall end this one, and perhaps get down to work for a change. Ah, well...........
Ah, and I at last beginning to find and join websites that might help me in my writing...that are in some way related at least. I joined Twitter, although I have no reason why and my only 'followers' are people who are selling something or themselves (as in Tony Robbins and other similar types). I did find Mark Bittman at the nytimes.com website...I LOVE that man. I am going to make crackers ....he taught me how. He cooks like I do...combining all sorts of things he has in the fridge....well, maybe he doesn't and just puts his there, but that is what I do. I just pulled a piece of frozen salmon out of my freezer, opened up the aluminium, added a sliced up small onion, some herbs scronged from neighbor's gardens, a bit of soy sauce, some Maggie sauce and some wine, wrapped it back up and put in the oven, while on the stove I was cooking some fresh noodles and carrot slices given to me yesterday. Put them both into a big wide, flattish bowl, so the sauce blended into the noodles and congratulated me on the great meal, just as Mark Bittman does. As my old nursemaid Mary Phykos used to say: "Mine gott, how I can cook!" We old types in this building are so lucky, we are constantly given all sorts of food.
Well, to get back to the topic....I found another great blogging area that seems to be for creative people. I was led there by a dear little girl who is a new knitter and making sox has her knitting feverishly. I am on the writing site WEbook, but a couple of days ago I found another interesting writing site...eScribe. There is not enough time in the day now, as I am looking madlly at the knitting sites, beading sites, writing sites.....and on and on, and no time to actually DO anything. ...and I really must make something for the grandchildren, who are going to have birthdays very soon.....all three of them. I shall have to work very hard and get something done. I promised Bella that I would make her a beautiful purple sweater, and I MUST do it. Then I have to make something for the other two, or they will be upset with me.
Of course, I am also in sort of a state of depression, as my guy has disappeared once again, without a word, of course. I realize that he is going through hell....lost job, lost savings that were in his 401k,,,,lost house, as court must have been on the big lawyer's side...but he should know that I don't care if he is penniless...I love him, not his STUFF! I guess guys never realize that.
I also found a free place to look for new friends (mine are dying off or disappearing fast) that is called 'plentyoffish'....so I put a bio in for fun. Actually, I have been trying for YEARS to find a writing partner.....or even someone who could write and perform music for my poetry....or one who could illustrate my books.....which is really something I should be doing for myself, but I am getting so lazy....and writing all alone is often such a chore. I shouldn't say that, as I sometimes feel that someone is writing through me, as it comes out so fast and furiously when I sit down and start to write. I've had no trouble writing the 3-day novels for Labour Day....although I am no good at throwing in f**k you....or other lovely phrases every page or two. I seem to be able to write a whole novel without swearing at all.....I guess that is boring to the younger generation, but I don't really write for them.....hell, I write for me. There....a swear word in my blog!
And with that I shall end this one, and perhaps get down to work for a change. Ah, well...........
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