Monday, October 13, 2014

My Provincetown


I took the first photo, a house just up the street from ours in Provincetown. But the rest: ah--sit back, relax, please enjoy this most beautiful place captured by these beautiful photographers. These photos are from the Provincetown Photography Page on Facebook. I am a member and can't hold a candle to most of these folks. But there's no competition: just pure enjoyment and abundant sharing.

I apologize that  I am unable to give proper attribution to many of the talented folks who took these photos, but you can follow the Provincetown Photography Page on Facebook yourself. Have a look: you most certainly will NOT be disappointed. 












love
kj
xo

Saturday, October 11, 2014

The Neighborhood Hypocrites


Scene: a cul de sac somewhere in Western Massachusetts

Act 1: Obnoxious Tony abruptly moves from neighbor Marianne's house and returns to Kentucky

Act II: Obnoxious Tony abruptly moves back and resumes his almost daily mowing of Marianne's  lawn on his over sized giant seated lawnmower

Scene 1: Obnoxious Tony tells his neighbor JB that he's returned to help Marianne because he is a 'high paid gigolo' 

Scene 2: In their efforts to control expenses JB and her partner Ms. kj decide to they must handle their yard's fall clean up themselves. This includes a very large amount of leaves that will need to be raked and disposed of.

Scene 3: Tony drives his car so fast on the cul de sac that Ms. kj tells him she will call the police if he continues to drive recklessly

Scene 4: The leaves start falling and JB and Ms. kj are seriously overwhelmed

Scene 5: JB and Ms. kj reluctantly decide they must hire someone after all to rake and clean their yard.

Scene 6: JB and Ms. kj notice that their side yard that faces Obnoxious Tony's yard is suddenly and mysteriously clear of leaves

Act III: Obnoxious Tony drives his over sized giant lawnmower to JB and Ms. kJ's kitchen door and engine running, sits and waits

Scene 7: Ms. kj walks outside and approaches Obnoxious Tony, inquiring why he is sitting on his lawnmower by her kitchen door

Scene 8: Citing his own self interest, Obnoxious Tony offers to remove all leaves from JB and Ms kJ's yard and to continue to do so until all the leaves have fallen from the many trees on their property

Scene 9: JB and Ms. kj give their approval, thank obnoxious Tony, and dance a happy dance that their leaf problems are solved

sometimes there is comfort in expediency :^)

love
kj


Monday, October 06, 2014

Streams of kj







I just feel like writing tonight. I'm leaving Provincetown tomorrow after being here since last Wednesday. Our house (a house in ptown: unbelievable) got hooked up to the sewer today. It was a massive job: a bulldozer digging deep into the gravel road, four men digging down into my yard,  I'd say 5 feet, laying plastic pipes like the toy tubes. By tomorrow the site of the old deck will be ready for the new (same) deck to be rebuilt there. It's been a week of required change and required spending.

I have been mostly alone. My friend Marilyn came by last Friday. Raul came by to fix the door. Hal Winard came by this morning for a deposit for the deck. The sewer guys have been great, but they are doing too much heavy labor to chit-chat. 

Do you ever wonder not just what you do or would do when you're alone, but is what you do or don't do worthwhile? Healthy? Legitimate? 

 I am writing up a storm: I've probably written 30 new pages and I've improved another 10 or 15. I've also planted luscious yellow mums in the outside flower and window boxes. And I bought a replacement blind for the upstairs bathroom. This, in a week.

That's about it. I wonder about keeping too much to myself. Which is really to say I worry about being too sedentary. I don't take walks. I don't because I'm lazy and because my right hip kills when I walk.  But also I didn't walk the one measly block to the ocean. I didn't see it, hear it, smell it, feel it. 

Instead I wrote. I have no idea if I am a good, average, bad or some other kind of writer. Honestly, I don't know. I know my vocabulary is limited, and that affects how I write. But I like this family I'm writing about. Many writers say they don't care if they are published or not. That is so not me. I want to write a blockbuster book. I would like that a lot.  :^)

That's all I want to say tonight. :^) I would  be happy to hear how you're seeing your life and days lately. 

(Never not care)
(Be Kind)

love
kj

Friday, October 03, 2014

The Birds Debark


It's started to look like my blog is a lot of photography. Which I don't mind, but I'm mostly a writer and  besides for stories, I used to write poems too. I don't seem to be able to write poems at the level I used to, but that's no reason not to write poems anyway. Who knows when inspiration may take the wheel? 

 So here's a summary of last weekend's invasion of crows in our little three house cul de sac.

They flew every which way
Not planning to stay
Which was fine with me
But seriously,

What in the heck
Were all these black flecks?
Dozens of birds
Flapping was heard

They came from the trees
past bushes and bees,
grass and yards on a lark
This flock did debark

Pecking their beaks 
Into the streets
Then those birds--all around
Left without sound.

love kj



Thursday, September 25, 2014

Warm Sweaters (so to speak)


Somehow I am at a point where it is very easy to spot love in plain sight and around corners. I have such dear people around me. 

Look at her. She turned one in August and every time I see her a new facet of who she is and will be shows itself. This is Reese. 


And this is Logan. He was pretty silent for his first two years. Now at three, I could listen to his questions and joy all day. 

I  have four children, ages 1 through 7 in my life, who I find just amazing. I am so grateful to know them, to be astonished by their perspectives and their silly dilly ways. 


It's good to push back on secrets. You never know when authenticity may help someone else. So with some relief I show you my (beloved) partner JB who has had a time of it; anxiety and worry to the brink over too many months. She's finishing up a month in our (beloved) Provincetown and all the release and replenishment we'd hoped for has happened. JB has spent time with herself, making art, walking along the ocean, hearing the waves, stepping into sunsets, and greeting strangers and friends. A world of good, it's done. Amen. 


Look at her: my (beloved) Mother who in January will be 99 years old. I carry such love for her; I'm the most present daughter I can be. But. It's gotten hard. Nursing homes are hard. Personal care needs have increased, remaining memory has decreased, sometimes I become her sister Betty. Sometimes she tells me the truth that she is alone in that nursing home and how great and safe she feels when I am there with her. It's hard. 

The people I love are warm sweaters. 


This brings us to this poem about the mess of current affairs:
What can I tell you?
Of course the world is turned upside down:
Wars and worries wear thin
Even though the seams.
But the sweater of the years is knitted tight,
Weathered wool that softens and warms 
Even the prickliest skin.

I’ve worn that sweater in pouring rain
And I’ve faced the nighttime shakes
and only once did a chill remake,
In some strange manner 
Only once is too often now
But I am better 
And with better comes hope.
And after all, hope is the warm sweater
Of days to come.

Before I end this, I want to thank you so much for visiting my blog and taking the time to leave such welcomed comments. it means a lot to me and I hope you know.

love
kj

Saturday, September 20, 2014

For Love….

Forgive me, Spirit of my spirit, for this, 
that I have found it easier to read the mystery 
told in tears and understood Thee better 
in sorrow than in joy.
George William Russell, 1867-1930


I get this statement and a good while back it inspired me to write this poem.  I modified and cleaned it up a little tonight. I can't say it's joyful, but I do think it's hopeful.


love

kj

For Love 
It’s only one arm,
Okay its dominant
But I can still
Raise broth to my frozen lips.

Only one eye,
The other choked blind
Though still I see shadows
Gracefully in flight.

I gave up my voice
So I could hear another
When the wires
Misfired and static reigned.

My steps though mis-shapened,
Hobble past space
Where molecular memory
Settles in.

Forgive me on a day
When my knees give out
And I whimper toward
Whatever grace isn’t.

When I was whole
I moved too quickly
To notice almost anything.
Now, lucky loss has given me sight.

My smile survived
because it double duties
With a tearful turn downward
At midnight, through the howls.

Yesterday I watched a cattail
Bend and balance
And I remembered when
My heart moved like that.

The loss of limb and love,
Lust and luster:
What a tiny price;
What a tiny price.

I wonder in the years ahead
Should my parts should regenerate
If I will miss
The space I’ve forfeited.

I wonder if sorrow
Might reappear as joy
filled with a love
That’s made me whole.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Mish Mash in a Nutshell

Blah to my last post. Too serious for the times. I've had a very good summer and I'm ready for a New England fall. I'm writing daily in-between and aside from some consulting work, yard care, laundry, family, the nightly news and trips to Provincetown. 

Tonight I'm just thinking out loud:


This drives me crazy. Why is it so hard for so many people to use 'your' and 'you're' correctly. You're means you are. So you don't say 'your so lucky.' Please pass it on. It will make some folks seem instantly smarter. 


In an alley way in Provincetown, this woman from 1906 lies unobtrusively lies in front of the Atlantic House, a well known gay men's bar and a great place to dance.  She is not well known or well visited, but once seen, who could resist her?


Ahh the beach at low tide.  I took this shot one block--one block!--from our new house in Ptown. I am still orgasmic that we have this house. I still can't figure how it happened.


Said beach.


 Can you pronounce it? I can't. I can and then I forget. If you know a way to remember, please help me.


This was taken last Saturday night: It is the story of friends as far back as junior high school getting back together. Most of these folks I have not been in touch with for forty plus years. But we didn't miss a beat. There is something good to be said for being known.

That's all. I'm good. Because I'm riding the horse in the direction she's going. I hope you are too.

love
kj