Summer Begins

          Finally, last Tuesday, on the summer solstice, it rained.  Lightning and

thunder just as we were trying to fall asleep.  I put a pillow over my head. John

opened the garage door and sat inside watching the rain come down.

          In the morning, the air was fresh and tropical.  But unfortunately the few inches we got don’t come close to making up for the 15” deficit for the season.  An article in today’s paper about a cattle rancher said it’s costing four times more usual to feed his herd because he has to truck in water and hay. And the poor animals have to suffer in the heat. 

          My own ass is getting flabby because it’s too hot for an afternoon walk.  I’ll have to start riding the bike, or walking on the treadmill at the gym. For now I’m doing arm machines 3x a week.  I love the gym atmosphere. It’s brand new with high ceilings, soft music, plenty of space.  I love the contrast of little old ladies and muscular young men, high school girls and middle aged retirees.  When I see someone my age I think – possible new friend?

          Also on Tuesday I found out my writing teacher is going back east for two months.  This is devastating to me.  The class motivates me and the teacher – a writer and editor - gives editorial advice that I sorely need. I’m learning to use more active verbs and keep a folder in my computer of “cuts” – which I simply call “notes.”  Dorothy Wickenden, executive editor of the New Yorker does the same thing with the book she’s writing based on her grandmother’s prose:  “If it’s any good, you’ll find another use for it someday.”

          So, since class will be suspended until September, I decided this is a good time to visit my mother.  I’ve want to help her either find the most excellent, intelligent, sensitive, obedient, non-intrusive, good-humored caregivers, or find her a quite haven where she can enjoy her life, free of worries.

          A tall order I know. But I have the help of my sister and nieces and a score of kind professionals just waiting to be of service.

          Today was my annual check up.  My cholesterol is the same – on the high side, but my LDL is superb, meaning I’m fine. Next: mammogram, then later this summer colonoscopy.  I’m really curious about the “twilight” drug they give and am focusing on that, not the other grim details.

          Well, it looks like there’s a bit of shade now. I’m wearing my new 81-cent knee-length pajama bottoms I got at the Salvation Army Thirft Shop and a $3.88 aqua tank top: my new favorite outfit. No one’ll see me. They’re all inside with the air conditioning on.

Father's Day

I met a wonderful woman this week, someone I hope to work with in the future: Lorraine LeMon, who operates the non-profit Art2Heart, here in Kerrville.  She’s an absolute bundle of energy. When I arrived she was coaching pre-teen girls (and one boy) in one of the dances they’ll perform next week at Schreiner University.  I could barely keep myself in my seat, as I watched her and the kids do their routine.  One of the songs was “Greased Lightning” from Grease, and they were doing the hand jive. I could at least do that sitting down!

          When they broke for lunch Lorraine took me into her office. Kids came in and out. One of the girls forgot her lunch so Lorraine gave her hers.  I’ve been so sad the last few weeks, knowing all those kids at Vision Academy of the Arts are getting together again, doing their art, writing (with Anne?), learning to play instruments, making a huge banner for the lunch room and then, at the end of the week, performing their musical show with Jackie Byers banging away on the piano and, when necessary, throwing out a cue when someone forgets a line.

          I used to walk to my car at the end of the day feeling fulfilled and proud of those children.  Some of them I taught all the way from second grade through eighth, and then worked with them as “helpers”.  It was a long week, tiring, but more fun that I can express.  On the last day with my writing groups we held “auditions” for whomever wanted to read their poem at the show, and everyone got one vote. This way I didn’t have to pick who would perform.  I wonder if Peter spent the entire week working on one story and if Christian is still funny. . . <sigh>

          So, back to Lorraine. I’ll meet with her when Dance Camp ends and see if I can be worked into the programs at her studio. So far it’s mostly art, dance, music, but she’s very open to poetry and writing.

          My big frustration is that Kroc Center did not advertise my classes, so taking the advice of someone at church – “it’s better to ask forgiveness than ask permission” – I wrote a press release and sent it into the paper. I got one call. However, this is from a teacher at a private school, so even though the summer classes may not pan out, I may have an “in” with her and her students.

          Plus, if I don’t teach, I’ll be freed up to travel. And thanks to my generous mother who sent my belated birthday gift, I can afford to go to California. The problem: so many friends to see! Right now I’m looking in to flying from San Antonio to San Francisco, seeing friends there, then driving down the coast, stopping in Cambria, Camarillo, and Ventura, before spending a few days in Santa Monica with my mom, niece and friends; then fly home from LAX.

          I had a pretty good week working on my manuscript. An episode from my childhood sparked curiosity about the psychologist my parents sent me to when I was ten.  Turns out she passed away in 1986. I wish I had thought to find her when she was alive and thank her.  I knew the reason I didn’t want to go to school was that it was boring. But, after a few visits to her she confirmed this with my parents, who then enrolled me in After School French class. As I say in my book, “What could be more fun than pretending to be French, and just talking!”

          I’ve always loved to learn languages – French class in 5^th grade, Spanish all through high school, Chinese 1976-79 and even a Japanese language class I took with Karen in the 80s.  “Su-me-ma-sen!” is what you say to a store clerk and means “Can you please help me?”  That’s about all I remember from that 6-week course!

          We had Japanese food last night with my favorite Nigori Sake, which is the unfiltered, milky kind, served cold. Mmmmmm. So delicious, or “oi-she” in Japanese.

          Now I’m off to Church and potluck afterwards.  I’ll pick up something on the way in. It’s too hot to cook.  This morning was a humid 78 but it’s expected to dry out and get up to 102.  The worst heat wave since 1934. And the drought continues. Met a woman, last night, when I took Walter out, who was banging shoes together, trying to scare away the deer from her garden. I didn’t tell her we’ve been giving them our fruit and vegetable scraps. I know! We should not feed the wild life, but they and the birds are so hungry and thirsty, it breaks my heart.

          Thinking of my father on Father’s Day, appreciating all he taught me, the fun we had and his love of animals. 

PARTY & POLITICS

          Our first party invitation came from the wife of the Friends of the Library  president, who was throwing him a surprise 65^th birthday party. Their house is beautiful, right on the golf coarse, with lots of Asian art.  She had worked like a maniac, while her husband was out of town, to cook and hide food for the party.  A friend kept him at her house after their round of golf, plying him with more beers every time he attempted to go home.

          John and I spent the our first half-hour at the party chatting and eating passed hors d’ouevres.   Turns out the treasurer of FOL grew up in Iowa, so she and John had a lot in common.  At one point I was chatting with John, my husband, John T., Johnny someone-else and John S. husband of the Iowan. 

          Dinner was sit-down buffet – name tags on four tables. The formal dining room held ten, two round glass kitchen tables each held four, and a two folding tables held ten or twelve.  I got to sit with the “darling young boy” – as I kept referring to him, the couple's 35-year old son who lives in Bodega Bay, California.  I loved discussing our mutual love of the ocean. For me the perfect spot to live is Santa Rosa, inland for sunshine, but close to the coast when you need it.

          The party was lovely but loud.  John seemed preoccupied the whole evening, although he said he enjoyed it – reminding him so much of his old Houston crowd.  We were the youngest at the party, except for their son and a granddaughter of one of the guests. 

          “This is the elephant’s graveyard,” John said on the way home. “This is where retired people come to spend the end of their life.”

          I don’t imagine myself dying in Texas.  But I never imagined living in Texas!   I once had an image of myself with braids, in a rural setting, and I fulfilled that the first few yeas I lived in the mountains. I see myself in my later years – say 75-90 – walking down the sidewalk in small town street, shaded with trees.  I wonder where it is?

          Today was a day for reading:  I finished The Autobiography of Ben Franklin, started the Ben Franklin biography by Walter Isaacson, read the morning paper, and several articles in the WSJ.  One, about Egypt was horribly alarming.  The Arab Spring is giving rise to extremists who do not believe Muslims should be ruled by Christians as has been the case in the one Egyptian state that is heavily Coptic Christian. The previous governor was relieved of his position – as all were – when Mubarak was overthrown, and replaced by another newly appointed Christian.  Militants staged a sit-in on the railroad and roads, cutting off the entire region. They do not believe Muslims should be ruled by a Christian. The federal government agreed to put a hold on the appointment for, I think ninety days. When the hold expires . . .?  I’m afraid Americans, in our naiveté think that democracy always promotes freedom. Extremist elements which were marginalized before are now active in the political process. Even those who do not believe in democracy are running for offices so they can change their constitutions and create a Sharia state.

          My heart aches for the women of those countries who are not granted the most basic human rights we cherish.  But with the West crumbling under debt and moral decay (and my Leftist friends might add global warming and corporate greed) I do not feel optimistic that we will return to the halcyon days of our youth. I guess I’m the pessimist, while John is every hopeful that by electing Republicans, things will improve.      

Lynne's Visit

          Back to work. My guest is gone. But what fun we had!  Last Saturday John and I drove to San Antonio to pick up Lynne. We took a lovely two-lane highway for the first thirty-minutes, then hopped on I-10 for the last half hour.  Lynne had flown from Fresno>San Francisco>San Antonio and was waiting for us at the curb when we arrived. We whisked her off to Pappadeaux Cajun restaurant for a delicious dinner.  Afterwards we listened to wonderful live music in the patio and of course Lynne and I had to dance. It was fun to watch the faces of people coming and going. Everyone smiled. One man in a yellow track suit wanted to dance with us but his jealous girlfriend pulled him to a table.

          Sunday Lynne came to church with me and found the small congregation in our little building charming.  We went to lunch with seven others and Lynne got to talk to an art teacher who used to hold “Arty Parties” at her studio in Colorado.

          By now the wind was whipping and but we decided to visit the Art Fair anyway. Those poor artists! The hot dry wind blew gusts of sand and grit all over their beautiful jewelry and wood carvings. Some tents actually collapsed.  We sought shade in a pavilion and were treated to really good music – conga drum and other evocative percussion, and two excellent guitarists. Although they announced a rumba, it sounded more like flamenco to me. Lynne was surprised they did not have a CD for sale. Just three guys making music.

          Lynne bought earrings for her sister and darling “screen art” for herself – tiny ceramic critters (gecko, frog, lizard) that you can pin on your screen door.  I fell in love with the work of a Kerrville artist who does funny animals in an almost childish style.  A pretty African college student displayed her prize-winning tall vases that I thought looked like termite mounds but she said were based on hairstyles from her native Kenya.

          After a while I felt like I was going to be sick. I couldn’t drink any more water and when I stood in the mister-booth, the wind blew the mist away.  We returned home. I put my feet in a bucket of cold water. John went to the market and brought back a cooked chicken and watermelon.

          Monday Lynne and I drove to Harper and visited Deborah at her studio. I always love looking at her finished and in-progress works. The two of them talked about aspects of art. Then the three of us drove into Fredericksburg for lunch. The wind wasn’t as bad there, plus we stayed on the shady side of the street and ambled in and out of shops that smelled good and had gorgeous clothes, house wares, art.   After Deborah left Lynne and I found a lovely tavern where we wet our whistles before the drive home – she had beer, I had iced coffee.

          That night I made a salad from leftovers and we watched “America’s Got Talent.”  There is one singer who brought tears to our eyes. Hs voice is so heart-felt and beautiful. I hope he goes all the way.

          In the meantime, I had been driving John’s car because my poor little LS had another flat tire.  So, Tuesday, my writing teacher picked us up at Discount Tire and took us to class.  Lynne had never attended a writing class and was grateful for critique of  one of her poems. She also enjoyed hearing excerpts from Arzy’s western novel and David’s novel that takes place in Santorini before the volcano eruption. 

          We spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the Kerr County Arts & Crafts Center where the current exhibit features fantastic gourds – I had no idea there were so many ways to make art from gourds! – and exquisite kimonos.  Across the street we had refreshing mango smoothies then moseyed down to River’s Edge Gallery. 

          Wednesday I was ready to try yoga again at the Kroc Center. My toe is healing but looks so gross I wear a band-aid when I go out. The darling teacher has taken maternity leave and in her place was my first male yoga teacher.  We began with a half-hour stretch class, which I really needed after being away for three weeks. Then came the hour-long yoga class, which featured some kundalini. We felt great afterwards and decided to stay and eat at the little café. We took our Asian noodle soup and salads poolside and got a kick out of watching children frolic in the   huge kids’ pool. It has gigantic suspended buckets that are filled by shooting streams of water. Once they’re full, they spill out in big gushes.

here’s also a long spiral slide.  Behind the kids’ pool is one for adults, plus another pool where a water aerobic class was taking place.

          I needed groceries, so we went to Walmart and while there bought floaties and river shoes. Back home John used his air compressor to blow up the inner tubes.  Lynne and I headed to Kerrville-Schreiner Park, a mile from the house. I’ve wanted to go in the river for months but was reluctant to do so alone. I needn’t have feared!  We asked a young father with three little boys, to take our picture before we got in the water.      

          I was amazed that we had the river all to ourselves!  The water was about 78 – perfect!!  Lynne made herself comfortable on her inner tube but I needed to move. I didn’t like the feel of the shoes on my feet, and threw them off once I was swimming. Ah! It felt so great to be in water again! And no chlorine!  A gentle breeze ruffled the surface as moved smoothly, eyes just above water level, and took in the gorgeous view of water, trees, blue sky. 

          Lynne was right: we probably would have gotten in a fight if we’d rented a kayak – she would have done all the rowing and we’d have gone around in circles! A school of tiny silver minnows passed by, and some larger dark fish. We didn’t see any turtles, but enjoyed the friendly ducks and geese that waddled through the park finding cheese puffs left by the kids.

          Now that I have experienced a clean, warm, safe place to swim, just five minutes from my house, the long, hot summer doesn’t seem as ominous.

          For John and my 19^th anniversary we went to our favorite restaurant, Billy Gene’s, which kind of reminds us of Mountain House because it’s good, simple food in a family atmosphere. But whereas Mountain House was nestled against a mountain, Billy Gene’s is right on the river.  We ate inside and at sunset, went outside for dessert.

          Thursday my writing class arrived at 10:30.  They read their concrete poems and I gave an assignment to write a pantoum. Next week is our last week so we’ll take more time and do collage poems, then have lunch.  I love these writers!  The reason we’re stopping for now is that the man in the group is taking his son to Alaska to fish; an adventurous woman will be a volunteer park ranger at White Sands National Park; another is taking the family to Yosemite.  I definitely want to continue with them in the fall.

          In the meantime, registration was low for my 6/7 grade class that was scheduled for next week in Fredericksburg, so it was canceled.  I’m relieved but hope we get enough for 4/5 grade the following week.  I made up a flyer for my upcoming classes at Kroc Center and am waiting for them to insert their logo. I was pissed off when a woman called me to say she wanted to register her grand daughter, but when she called Kroc no one there knew anything about it!  I’m determined to educate the staff and get my flyers out there!

          Instead of going back to the river we decided to see “Bridesmaids” which is a funny, touching movie. Kristin Wiig is a great comic actress. The movie has plenty of gross humor, but mostly I liked the characters and the story of friendship between women. 

          The trip back to the airport went smoothly and we were sad to see Lynne go.  She really is like a little sister to me. She’s sweet, fun, and considerate. She’s willing to try new things. She let me take control, make a schedule and stick to it. I hope she makes this an annual event. She wants my friends to know that there is a pink inner tube and pink size 6 river shoes available for the next friend who comes to visit.

          Lynne’s trip made me realize how much there is to do here and how much I love my sweet little Fresno friend.

First Overnight Guest!

Lynne just called from FAT – Fresno Air Terminal on her way to SFO then direct to San Antonio. We’ll pick her up at 6:35 and go to River Walk in spite of it being another very hot day. If it’s too hot, we’ll find a cool place inside where we can have a nice cold beer and crisp salad.  She’ll be here till Thursday. We have a whole list of things to do from art to writing.

My toe is healing.  There is a yin/yang sort of scab, half oxblood, half tan, where my toenail should be. I wonder what it will be like when it falls off? I know many people say they’ve lost toenails and it’s no big deal, but I also have stitches, so don’t know how this will affect the new nail.

In 1987, a summer day on Venice beach, I was with John de Persio. He was pet sitting for a very sweet Doberman.  When I went home, I reached for my car door but must have been looking somewhere else. My hand hit the handle in such a way that a fingernail on my left hand split right down the middle.  To this day it is split. This is because the nail bed suffered a trauma. (The doctor who stitched my toe explained this to me.)

I find it fascinating how the body heals. Sometimes there is no evidence of injury or illness. Other times we scar.  I suppose the same is true emotionally.   Which brings me to my writing.

I’m working on my memoir and having great days, okay days and some distressing days.  I took the first five pages of chapter The Bay Theater to writing class Tuesday. Everyone there (6 others) liked it. It brought back memories, etc. However, the teacher circled all the times I used  “was”.  She said I might want to consider not using the passive voice so much.

I was so bummed. (There I go again with the passive voice!) I had to call Katherine. She said there is always a lot of editing to be done, to keep writing. This is what the teacher said, too. But I can’t stand the idea of writing two or three-hundred pages then going back to the beginning for edits.

So I waited another day, then went back to the manuscript. Lo and behold there were many instances where I WAS able to change the wording to make the language more active.  Not in every case, of course. I think of the opening of  A Tale of Two Cities - “It was the best of times, it was the worse of times.”   Or, “It was a dark and stormy night.”  Passive voice can set a scene.

The other thing we went over in class was structure. Supposedly 25% in to your story the protagonist should have a “shift”.  Then the action continues to a peak, then a set back, followed by the climax and the denouement.

I took a piece of lined paper and oriented it horizontally. I drew the plot line, moving from left to right.  Then I turned the page back to vertical and wrote the chapters down the left side of the page, with how many pages I’ve written, and how many more there are to write.

I thought I had written so much, but I’ve only done 85 pages – 40 of which were taken from the three pieces I recorded for Valley Writers Read.  This means I’ve only written about 45 new pages.  Worse, it means I have between 150-200 pages still to go. Yikes!

So perhaps this is a good time to have a guest. I’ve organized all my papers, folders, notebooks, files and put them away.  When I look at them in a week, I hope fresh eyes will make me see that the task isn’t as daunting as I had thought.

In the meantime, John bought netting for the garden. Mockingbirds have been absconding with my cherry tomatoes!  He is out in the garage assembling a portable air conditioner. The garage was 100 degrees yesterday. Poor Jane Kitty  - although she doesn’t complain, it can’t be good for her. John says he can vent the AC through the dryer vent, which is in the laundry room and has Audrey’s’ litter box.  If the door to the garage is open and the laundry room door to the kitchen is closed, it means Audrey can’t get into her box. So it'll have to be back in the house.

I think Jane will just have to stay out when we go fetch Lynne. She can seek shade under a bush. Better than sweltering in the no-window garage. (You also can’t open the garage door just a little, it’s all or nothing.)

Preparing for the Rapture - A Check List

Pet owners, if you expect to be swept up in the Rapture tomorrow, I hope that you have found good homes for your pets.  If you have not, please do not leave them locked in your house!  If you haven’t found homes yet, leave the door unlocked so that they can be rescued. Leave them plenty of food and water.

Wait for Jesus in your front yard, (or on the sidewalk if you live in an apartment building) so that it will be easier to collect your body when your spirit is spirited away.

If you live in a rural area, it might be more practical to just wander off into the woods and let nature take its course.  Likewise those who live near the ocean may want to camp on the beach overnight, as close to the shore as possible, so the tide can carry you out to sea.

Consider giving your houseplants to your neighbors. Don’t disconnect your electricity, so sprinkler timers will continue to come on, and food in the freezer will not thaw. 

Make sure your house is clean and tidy. It might be a while before anyone comes to claim your house.  If you are a renter, notify your landlord so he/she can get your place cleaned up and re-rented by the first of the month.  Make sure there’s toilet paper in the bathrooms.

If you own your home outright I hope you have already transferred title to next of kin who aren’t as holy as thou, or given it to your favorite charity.  It’s heartwarming to think that all the empty houses left behind may be used to provide shelter for the homeless, or places of safety for battered women, even if you think they deserve their lot.

If you are “upside down” on your house or are locked into a high-interest mortgage, then don’t sweat it. Look how many people have already had to walk away from their homes.   Take off the screens and open the windows. There are many raccoons who would find your house way more comfortable than sleeping in a storm drain or hollow tree.

By now I trust you have destroyed any embarrassing evidence of past indiscretions for which you have been forgiven by God, but which your friends and neighbors would find hilarious.  Unless you really don’t care what others think, you might also want to shred photographs of you in the 80s with big hair and shoulder pads.

Enjoy heaven, where you can eat as much as you want and never get fat! The rest of us will be along eventually but most likely we will not run into you because as I understand it, heaven is quite huge and just as here on earth, we’ll hang out with those who share our beliefs.  Look for me in Cat Corner.

It rained!!! (Yesterday)

This happened Thursday, May 12 but the site wouldn't let me post until May 13th.

          Finally, it rained!  Just at the end of my morning walk with Walter drops started to fall.  Then a few minutes after we came inside the sky got absolutely black as night.  The thunder that had been distant when we were outside was overhead.  The lights blinked off, then on, and then a crack of lightning, like a gunshot, exploded over the house. Walter shivered.  Then, light again – an eerie green light, like we were swimming in a cool celery soup – and wind!  Rain blew down the street in waves, drops flew side wards.

          I emailed my students asking if we should cancel class and one said “yes” but three showed up.  When I called to check on Frank the storm was pummeling Fredericksburg and he was not about to go out in it. The three of us had a great workshop. I think it’s so funny, when I tell them I love being around other poets, they say, “we are?”  They’re natural poets” they appreciate words and how to put them together in an interesting way; they love fresh metaphors and straight-forward from the heart phrases.  Poetry is like food: whether complex or simple, there’s lots of it to be enjoyed. Especially poems fresh off the printer. Yum, like diving into warm cupcake.

          I’ve often thought my poems are like cupcakes. I whip them up in about half an hour; then clean up (edit) time. They take about a minute to eat, a little longer to digest and I hope leave the reader with a pleasant aftertaste.  At least that’s my desire.

          After the class left, I watched about half-an-hour of

Quality Street

, an early Hepburn movie while I ate my lunch. The script was based on a novel by J.M. Barrie, who wrote Peter Pan. - a genteel comedy.

          I went to Walmart to pick up my new glasses: bronze metal frames for indoors and big dark glasses for outside.  I returned the photo-sensitive ones because I had to hold them out the car window for them to get dark. 

          The frames of the new sunglasses are good but I should have gotten gray not brown: my red car looks red-orange.