I'm temporarily too busy to write, create, or otherwise keep my blog interesting. So here is the best I can do for the time being: this doll of a boy named Mr. Ryan. I'm starting to think good looks run in my family.....Friday, May 30, 2008
Mr. Ryan Stirs....
I'm temporarily too busy to write, create, or otherwise keep my blog interesting. So here is the best I can do for the time being: this doll of a boy named Mr. Ryan. I'm starting to think good looks run in my family.....
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Nests
The counseling work that I am currently doing is nothing if not rich and real. I haven't decided how much or how little I will write about it, but here is the result of Monday night's Big Yellow writing class. The stringless guitar, the duffle bag, and the bonsai tree were prompts, so if you wonder why they are included in this piece, that's the answer.
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I’m prowling the projects again. I didn’t think much about it until someone offhandedly reminded me that the world has changed, that random violence is more prevalent now, and more so in the high crime areas where I’ll be working sometimes. And even so, I didn’t give a thought to the reality that I can no longer outrun some twit who may want the $ 12 in my wallet or the stereo in my car. I didn’t think about any of this until someone and then some else brought it to my attention and then I thought about it a lot. But only for a time.
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It took me less than three weeks to get use to the vacant lots with so many dandelions you can hardly see the grass and the sad boarded up Victorians with the “owned by bank” signs nailed to the front porch.
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It took me even less time to adjust to the projects, those rows of brick buildings or clapboard townhouses with the broken screens and wide parking lots.
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“Why doesn’t anyone have flowers outside?” I asked my 10 o’clock client.
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It took me less than three weeks to get use to the vacant lots with so many dandelions you can hardly see the grass and the sad boarded up Victorians with the “owned by bank” signs nailed to the front porch.
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It took me even less time to adjust to the projects, those rows of brick buildings or clapboard townhouses with the broken screens and wide parking lots.
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“Why doesn’t anyone have flowers outside?” I asked my 10 o’clock client.
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“Because they get stolen” she sighed.
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Project life has its benefits. It’s an expansive enclosed and instant community where little kids can ride their bikes and scooters and not much happens where real worrying is required, except there are a few projects, like anywhere I suppose, that are not safe for anyone to be out riding a bike or doing anything except coming and going.
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If you live in the projects, chances are your rent is low, which is good because odds are you don’t work, and you really can’t work if you want to keep your apartment and food and medical benefits for your kids.
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Plus you really can’t nest that well in the projects, because in some cases the rooms are laid out kind of weird and awkwardly, and often they lack furniture.
“Because they get stolen” she sighed.
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Project life has its benefits. It’s an expansive enclosed and instant community where little kids can ride their bikes and scooters and not much happens where real worrying is required, except there are a few projects, like anywhere I suppose, that are not safe for anyone to be out riding a bike or doing anything except coming and going.
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If you live in the projects, chances are your rent is low, which is good because odds are you don’t work, and you really can’t work if you want to keep your apartment and food and medical benefits for your kids.
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Plus you really can’t nest that well in the projects, because in some cases the rooms are laid out kind of weird and awkwardly, and often they lack furniture.
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“How come you don’t have furniture in the living room?”, I asked another client.
“How come you don’t have furniture in the living room?”, I asked another client.
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“We had to leave everything behind when we moved.” she said.
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Another thing about the projects, and I suppose this is true of inner city poverty as well, is that dreams and plans don’t hold up so well. Something about passing down despair or hopelessness from generation to generation. Which I suspect is the opposite of modeling perserverance and hope. I don’t know about that yet, but I can see that a 4 year kid hears every word when her mother tells me she’s still hearing voices at night.
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The thing is, I’ve yet to see a stringless guitar or duffle bag or bonsai tree. So far. But I’ve just started. And I think there are homemade nests buried in there somewhere. I just don’t have the means to recognize them . Yet.
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And when I do, we'll start building.
“We had to leave everything behind when we moved.” she said.
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Another thing about the projects, and I suppose this is true of inner city poverty as well, is that dreams and plans don’t hold up so well. Something about passing down despair or hopelessness from generation to generation. Which I suspect is the opposite of modeling perserverance and hope. I don’t know about that yet, but I can see that a 4 year kid hears every word when her mother tells me she’s still hearing voices at night.
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The thing is, I’ve yet to see a stringless guitar or duffle bag or bonsai tree. So far. But I’ve just started. And I think there are homemade nests buried in there somewhere. I just don’t have the means to recognize them . Yet.
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And when I do, we'll start building.
Monday, May 19, 2008
A Path With A Heart
There are a hundred paths
through the world that are
easier than loving.
But who wants easier?
-Mary Oliver
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I am hereby announcing that I am in the midst of a major transition. What this means is that I know where I've been but not exactly where I'm going. Lest I or anyone else wonder how or why that comes to be, here's an essay by Jack Kornfield called “A Path with Heart” . I found it on Jimmy James' blog, which usually manages to give me the reminders I need. And if by chance this post serves as a reminder to you, consider it my distinct pleasure.....
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“Each state we encounter will succumb to the next. There is no way to avoid the transitions of our life. The chief means of entering them gracefully is to practice them mindfully over and over again. It is like learning to ride a horse: over and over again walking, trotting, cantering, over smooth and rough terrain, mounting and dismounting, starting and stopping, until it becomes possible for us to move through life in a graceful conscious way.
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In moving through the difficult stages of our lives, we can learn to trust our heart to these cycles and their unfolding as surely as we can trust roots to go down and leaves to push up through the earth in our garden. We can trust each petal of a flower will open in the right order from outside to inside. We can trust that whatever calls our attention to practice – our body, our personal history, the community around us – in or out or retreat, it will bring to us what we need to live fully and genuinely in the timeless here and now."
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Posted by JimmyJames' Blog: Living from the Heart
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“Each state we encounter will succumb to the next. There is no way to avoid the transitions of our life. The chief means of entering them gracefully is to practice them mindfully over and over again. It is like learning to ride a horse: over and over again walking, trotting, cantering, over smooth and rough terrain, mounting and dismounting, starting and stopping, until it becomes possible for us to move through life in a graceful conscious way.
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In moving through the difficult stages of our lives, we can learn to trust our heart to these cycles and their unfolding as surely as we can trust roots to go down and leaves to push up through the earth in our garden. We can trust each petal of a flower will open in the right order from outside to inside. We can trust that whatever calls our attention to practice – our body, our personal history, the community around us – in or out or retreat, it will bring to us what we need to live fully and genuinely in the timeless here and now."
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Posted by JimmyJames' Blog: Living from the Heart
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sunday Sixteen
I'm making up a new one-time category: Sunday 16. It's raining but not before I got to spend a day and a half outside. It's that time of year to plant my garden, clean up, and fall into the summer room that is the yard. I'm happy to say my knee and back have been strong and willing.
1. This tells you almost all you need to know about jb: a clip-on butterfly atop a 1950's style lamp in the living room.
2. A couple of weeks ago I bought a peach tree and a miniature magnolia tree. They're not planted yet but I can still cut off a magnificent magnolia flower and let it float in a bowl. 
3. A sure sign of gardens and puttering.
4. These grasses never got planted last year, but somehow they managed to survive a long winter and mounds of snow. This photo reminds me of fireworks.
6. Yesterday I planted six plants and today another six--an equal amount of Big Boy and Cherry tomatoes. It is an eight wonder of the world to grow your own tomatoes. For years I didn't have enough sun to do that, and last year I planted too many, but this year's crop should be just about about right.
7. Just outside the kitchen door, under a tiny foyer, this still-in-process nest has appeared in the outdoor overhead light.
8. I don't mean to brag, but this shot does not do justice to my garden-in-process. I love evidence anywhere that a human being has taken some care, or tended to something, and that is how I feel about my garden.
9. To the right of the Magic Cottage, I've gotten in the habit of talking on my cell phone or taking a break in this makeshift sitting area.
10. jb turned over the soil around the lamppost for me yesterday, so all I had to do was pop in these impatiens. Tomorrow morning I will look out the little den window and smile when I see them. 
11. The rocks and stones in this well in my side yard were no doubt once beautifully stacked, but the best I can do is plant geraniums in the middle, and a circle of dark purple petunias around them. Not much effort for a pretty nice result.
12. Have you ever had a Hootenanny in your house? Five of my fellow writers in our twice a year Big Yellow writing retreat are songwriters, and here we are singing the night away.
13. This is the first perennial bloom of the year in my garden--just out this morning! Blue is a rare color for a flower: can you see it?
14. These are called Chickens and Hens--mostly used for borders and rock gardens. jb wants them to the left of the driveway. They're too small to stand alone so I have to figure out some taller companions for them.
15. A branch of a bleeding heart broke during clean up. I wouldn't have thought of it, but here it is in a vase and it looks wonderful.
16. Honest to God, this is what I look like when I'm irritated.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Innocence
The elevator spills open to a fourth floor foyer decorated with plastic and paper flowers. In the main room green leaves have been painted on a support beam and except for a few fist sized holes in the wall, the colors are calm and inviting.
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The receptionist sits behind a glass window. Although she’s only two feet away, visitors are instructed to introduce themselves to her through a white phone that hangs on the wall.
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There are four small rooms off the main room, all with doors. Each is marked with its own large letter: A, B, C and D. Each has a window, a small table, a couple of chairs, a second hand Fisher Price plastic shopping cart, a worn puzzle box or two.
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The visitor watches as two women and a 3 or 4 year old girl emerge from room A. The first woman is neatly dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt; the other, in a black pantsuit, carries a clipboard. The girl has curly blond hair and the unsteady walk of a little child. The woman in jeans walks to the door toward the elevator and stops to turn to her.
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“Mommy loves you. I’ll see you next week. Be good”.
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The receptionist sits behind a glass window. Although she’s only two feet away, visitors are instructed to introduce themselves to her through a white phone that hangs on the wall.
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There are four small rooms off the main room, all with doors. Each is marked with its own large letter: A, B, C and D. Each has a window, a small table, a couple of chairs, a second hand Fisher Price plastic shopping cart, a worn puzzle box or two.
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The visitor watches as two women and a 3 or 4 year old girl emerge from room A. The first woman is neatly dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt; the other, in a black pantsuit, carries a clipboard. The girl has curly blond hair and the unsteady walk of a little child. The woman in jeans walks to the door toward the elevator and stops to turn to her.
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“Mommy loves you. I’ll see you next week. Be good”.
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The woman with the clip board waves goodbye to the woman in jeans.
The woman with the clip board waves goodbye to the woman in jeans.
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“Come on honey” she motions to the little girl. “Come with me”.
“Come on honey” she motions to the little girl. “Come with me”.
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The little girl takes five small steps toward her mother and away from the woman with the clipboard. The little girl waits in place, until the woman with the clipboard calls her again.
The little girl takes five small steps toward her mother and away from the woman with the clipboard. The little girl waits in place, until the woman with the clipboard calls her again.
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"Come on honey. You’ll see Mommy again next week”.
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The little girl turns and follows the woman with the clipboard into the room with the glass window and the receptionist gives her a piece of candy.
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The little girl is in state sponsored foster care, taken from her mother because of allegations of abuse or neglect of some kind. She will see her mother for an hour a week, under the supervision of Child Protection Services, for a number of months, until her mother is able to demonstrate that she is fit and able to care for her.
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The visitor has important business to do in the main room. She is there for an appointment and she needs to concentrate. But she cannot shake the picture of the little girl looking and leaning toward her mother, and she cannot shake the discrepancy of her mother’s lingering goodbye.
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The visitor knows that there are details missing, stories that explain why all the alphabet rooms are all filled at the same time with small children and their absent parents. And yet, for the rest of the day, and for some time to come, the visitor wrestles with the gestalt of a little girl with curly blond hair and tiny feet, and her mother at the doorway, both of them following the woman with the clipboard.
The little girl turns and follows the woman with the clipboard into the room with the glass window and the receptionist gives her a piece of candy.
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The little girl is in state sponsored foster care, taken from her mother because of allegations of abuse or neglect of some kind. She will see her mother for an hour a week, under the supervision of Child Protection Services, for a number of months, until her mother is able to demonstrate that she is fit and able to care for her.
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The visitor has important business to do in the main room. She is there for an appointment and she needs to concentrate. But she cannot shake the picture of the little girl looking and leaning toward her mother, and she cannot shake the discrepancy of her mother’s lingering goodbye.
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The visitor knows that there are details missing, stories that explain why all the alphabet rooms are all filled at the same time with small children and their absent parents. And yet, for the rest of the day, and for some time to come, the visitor wrestles with the gestalt of a little girl with curly blond hair and tiny feet, and her mother at the doorway, both of them following the woman with the clipboard.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Thursday 13 Ho Hum
This post is all about me:
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1. Every spring I am faced with the reality that my hose and sprinklers all leak. Every year! Why would that be, anyway? Over the winter they are safely tucked in the garage and treated kindly. So why am I always replacing them?
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2. I have been longing to buy MANY flowering trees and shrubs for my yard, and it may finally happen this weekend. My plan is to continue landscaping my yard by planting things while they are in bloom--that way I'll get the height, color, and timing right. Or close to right...
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3. Has anybody noticed that I am writing very little poetry since I went to the Colrain Poetry Manuscript conference? It's not as dire as it sounds--I'm inhibited by the thought of revising before releasing but hopefully that's a good thing.
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4. My new job is great. Currently I have 13 clients, including several children and a couple of families. Many of these folks have not been in counseling before and many live below the poverty line. I am amazed how easily and how much I like and care about these folks. Several have bare rooms with no furniture and no means to pick up even donated furniture.
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5. jb's knee replacement is coming along fantastically. She is walking without a limp and increased distances. This surpasses my progress following my less severe knee surgery: my strength is still not back and sometimes I limp. I'm improving, but slowly. I want my swagger back!
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6. The story of Lily and Alex has charmed its way into my heart.
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7. It's no fun when your best friend lives in another state. But it's fantastic when time allows and distance melts.
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8. My friend Melissa is writing a wonderful novel about life and love. I love watching her confidence grow with each day.
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9. There aren't many blogs these days that don't include photos or videos. Technologically disabled as I am, I worry about my posts being boring sometimes.
10. jb and I are doing our Yard-Art fair again in August. Do you want to come?
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11. Why do I need heavy duty scissors to open my printer cartridges? (Plastic be damned!)
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12. I am soon to get a small tattoo...
13. ...and color my hair auburn-ish.
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Anyone else interested in sharing a ho-hum Thursday 13?
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1. Every spring I am faced with the reality that my hose and sprinklers all leak. Every year! Why would that be, anyway? Over the winter they are safely tucked in the garage and treated kindly. So why am I always replacing them?
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2. I have been longing to buy MANY flowering trees and shrubs for my yard, and it may finally happen this weekend. My plan is to continue landscaping my yard by planting things while they are in bloom--that way I'll get the height, color, and timing right. Or close to right...
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3. Has anybody noticed that I am writing very little poetry since I went to the Colrain Poetry Manuscript conference? It's not as dire as it sounds--I'm inhibited by the thought of revising before releasing but hopefully that's a good thing.
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4. My new job is great. Currently I have 13 clients, including several children and a couple of families. Many of these folks have not been in counseling before and many live below the poverty line. I am amazed how easily and how much I like and care about these folks. Several have bare rooms with no furniture and no means to pick up even donated furniture.
.
5. jb's knee replacement is coming along fantastically. She is walking without a limp and increased distances. This surpasses my progress following my less severe knee surgery: my strength is still not back and sometimes I limp. I'm improving, but slowly. I want my swagger back!
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6. The story of Lily and Alex has charmed its way into my heart.
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7. It's no fun when your best friend lives in another state. But it's fantastic when time allows and distance melts.
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8. My friend Melissa is writing a wonderful novel about life and love. I love watching her confidence grow with each day.
.
9. There aren't many blogs these days that don't include photos or videos. Technologically disabled as I am, I worry about my posts being boring sometimes.
10. jb and I are doing our Yard-Art fair again in August. Do you want to come?
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11. Why do I need heavy duty scissors to open my printer cartridges? (Plastic be damned!)
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12. I am soon to get a small tattoo...
13. ...and color my hair auburn-ish.
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Anyone else interested in sharing a ho-hum Thursday 13?
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Monday, May 12, 2008
Chapter 37
Alex hates the way Lily piles the plastic containers one atop another. With the left over pot roast in front of her, she reaches to the cabinet above the stove and feels around for the three inch circular bowl with the blue rubber top. As she locates it, two other pieces fly out—one bouncing directly off her head and the other unceremiously falls to the floor, where it defiantly rolls toward the refrigerator.
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“Lily” Alex yells, “I am not cooking another meal in this kitchen until you clean up the g.d. containers”.
“Lily” Alex yells, “I am not cooking another meal in this kitchen until you clean up the g.d. containers”.
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Lily appears at the kitchen doorway. She is dressed in her favorite black velour sweat suit, wringing her permed auburn hair over her right shoulder.
Lily appears at the kitchen doorway. She is dressed in her favorite black velour sweat suit, wringing her permed auburn hair over her right shoulder.
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“You have no appreciation for the fact that half of my beloved dishes and stemware are in languishing in storage so we could fit your fiesta ware and martini glasses in my modest kitchen”
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Alex feigns surprise. “Honeygirl, how could you expect me to co-habitat with you without my martini glasses? Let’s get real.”
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The phone rings just as Lily’s long stemmed fingers reach the back of Alex’s neck.
“You have no appreciation for the fact that half of my beloved dishes and stemware are in languishing in storage so we could fit your fiesta ware and martini glasses in my modest kitchen”
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Alex feigns surprise. “Honeygirl, how could you expect me to co-habitat with you without my martini glasses? Let’s get real.”
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The phone rings just as Lily’s long stemmed fingers reach the back of Alex’s neck.
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“Hold on, hold on” she teases as she swings backwards and grabs the phone.
“Hold on, hold on” she teases as she swings backwards and grabs the phone.
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“Hello” she purrs.
“Hello” she purrs.
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“Hello. This is Dr. Chambliss.”
“Hello. This is Dr. Chambliss.”
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There are molecular events in life when the slightest word or sound or movement occurs and you know then and there you will never forget who you were the moment before and who you became the moment after.
There are molecular events in life when the slightest word or sound or movement occurs and you know then and there you will never forget who you were the moment before and who you became the moment after.
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Alex looks up to see Lily bring her hand to her mouth like one of those circus Mime performers.
Alex looks up to see Lily bring her hand to her mouth like one of those circus Mime performers.
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“’This is Lily, Dr. Chambliss.”
“’This is Lily, Dr. Chambliss.”
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“I know” he said. “I’m afraid I have bad news”.
“I know” he said. “I’m afraid I have bad news”.
Chapter 36
“I’ve made a deposit on a cemetery plot”,this declaration from Alex rolls out just as Lily bites into a stuffed mushroom. Her relaxed dinner at the Apollo Grill is melting like the small candle in front of her.
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“Alex…” Lily gasps.
“Alex…” Lily gasps.
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“No, no Lily, nothing’s wrong.” Alex sees the panic on Lily’s face and realizes she has in this moment forgotten the precipitous edge they live on, even after a full year of total remission.
“No, no Lily, nothing’s wrong.” Alex sees the panic on Lily’s face and realizes she has in this moment forgotten the precipitous edge they live on, even after a full year of total remission.
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“I’ve been thinking that the less I have to worry about, the better I am. So I saw this flyer for a sale on oversized riverfront plots at the Mt. Auburn cemetery and I thought, ‘What the hell?, why not check it out—one less thing to do now or thirty years from now…and there’s room for the kids and even Mike if he wants, and your family….”
“I’ve been thinking that the less I have to worry about, the better I am. So I saw this flyer for a sale on oversized riverfront plots at the Mt. Auburn cemetery and I thought, ‘What the hell?, why not check it out—one less thing to do now or thirty years from now…and there’s room for the kids and even Mike if he wants, and your family….”
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Lily’s face has significantly relaxed. Though she generally keeps herself on an even keel, she loves Alex’s constant unpredictability: she loves the steady stream of new and wacky ideas that roll themselves out and she loves supporting Alex through most of them.
Lily’s face has significantly relaxed. Though she generally keeps herself on an even keel, she loves Alex’s constant unpredictability: she loves the steady stream of new and wacky ideas that roll themselves out and she loves supporting Alex through most of them.
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“Waterfront, huh. So we’ll have a water view from the other side?”
“Waterfront, huh. So we’ll have a water view from the other side?”
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“Well”, Alex says, “I don’t think it works that way Lily . "Our visitors will have a water view, but you and I—we’ll have a heavenly view. I’m not sure what that includes but I have to believe it includes you and me still together.”
“Well”, Alex says, “I don’t think it works that way Lily . "Our visitors will have a water view, but you and I—we’ll have a heavenly view. I’m not sure what that includes but I have to believe it includes you and me still together.”
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Lily twirls a mushroom around her plate.
Lily twirls a mushroom around her plate.
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“Did you ever think it could be this good?” she asks.
“Did you ever think it could be this good?” she asks.
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“No”, says Alex.
“No”, says Alex.
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“Do you ever think we’ll get used to the blood tests?”
“Do you ever think we’ll get used to the blood tests?”
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“No”, says Alex. “But Lily, we're going on two years. "Ok so I have to pace my breathing and baby my back sometimes, but we’re ok. And can you believe Andy is on his way to NYU? And your book is coming out this year? And Mike and Rebecca? We’ve lucked out, Lily.”
“No”, says Alex. “But Lily, we're going on two years. "Ok so I have to pace my breathing and baby my back sometimes, but we’re ok. And can you believe Andy is on his way to NYU? And your book is coming out this year? And Mike and Rebecca? We’ve lucked out, Lily.”
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Alex reaches for Lily’s hands. She folds them into hers and swallows.
Alex reaches for Lily’s hands. She folds them into hers and swallows.
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“Lily, the thought of ever leaving you is unbearable. I can’t imagine you without me.”
“Lily, the thought of ever leaving you is unbearable. I can’t imagine you without me.”
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“I can’t either, Alex.” Lily battles a single tear which prevails and rolls down her right cheek.
“I can’t either, Alex.” Lily battles a single tear which prevails and rolls down her right cheek.
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Alex leans forward. “Then let’s not imagine it. Let’s finish our stuffed mushrooms, enjoy our pistachio crusted salmon, and order chocolate flan and two French roast coffees”.
Alex leans forward. “Then let’s not imagine it. Let’s finish our stuffed mushrooms, enjoy our pistachio crusted salmon, and order chocolate flan and two French roast coffees”.
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Alex smiles, “Then let’s go home and frolic.”
Alex smiles, “Then let’s go home and frolic.”
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“With the light on or off?” Lily grins.
“With the light on or off?” Lily grins.
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“On”, Alex says emphatically, “Let’s keep the light on…”
“On”, Alex says emphatically, “Let’s keep the light on…”
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Happy Mother's Day
To every mother everywhereWho sacrifices everything everytime:
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May love and light and luck and laughter
Walk with you for all your days
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And for once may a secret angel
finish the laundry and change the sheets...
Friday, May 09, 2008
Chapter 35
Clad in black sweat pants and a “Feel Good” tee-shirt, Alex is jumping up and down in the driveway as Lily pulls in. In three high hops she is leaning into the Mazda's window, wildly bobbing her arms up and down, fluttering some kind of document in her hand.
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"Tickets for Paris! Here they are, Lily!” Alex screeches, “We’re booked!”. With dramatic flourish she flaps the tickets back and forth in mid air in front of Lily’s ear so she can hear the swishing sound of gleeful anticipation.
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“I have groceries….” Lily smiles.
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“Screw the groceries, Lily! You have to look at these tickets! Right this minute! We’re going!”
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Lily steps away from the car and snatches the packet from Alex, who is again bungy jumping in front of her. She sits down on the little wooden bench Mr. Perry from Truro made for her, and she spreads the perforated corrugated papers on her lap.
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“Oh wow, Alex, you booked the Hotel St. Germain!”
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Alex grabs hold of Lily’s hands and with a motion that can only be described as a badly choreographed tango, pulls her to her feet. For a second or two, Lily savors the image in front of her—her fiery buzz cropped 5 foot 4 and a half petite now fit and healthy partner whose puzzle pieces have miraculously fit tightly into her own.
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“And not just that...” Alex is saying, But Lily has stopped listening.
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She is looking into the robin egg blue sky with its soft puff clouds and whispering ‘thank you God, thank you thank you thank you..’.
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"Tickets for Paris! Here they are, Lily!” Alex screeches, “We’re booked!”. With dramatic flourish she flaps the tickets back and forth in mid air in front of Lily’s ear so she can hear the swishing sound of gleeful anticipation.
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“I have groceries….” Lily smiles.
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“Screw the groceries, Lily! You have to look at these tickets! Right this minute! We’re going!”
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Lily steps away from the car and snatches the packet from Alex, who is again bungy jumping in front of her. She sits down on the little wooden bench Mr. Perry from Truro made for her, and she spreads the perforated corrugated papers on her lap.
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“Oh wow, Alex, you booked the Hotel St. Germain!”
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Alex grabs hold of Lily’s hands and with a motion that can only be described as a badly choreographed tango, pulls her to her feet. For a second or two, Lily savors the image in front of her—her fiery buzz cropped 5 foot 4 and a half petite now fit and healthy partner whose puzzle pieces have miraculously fit tightly into her own.
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“And not just that...” Alex is saying, But Lily has stopped listening.
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She is looking into the robin egg blue sky with its soft puff clouds and whispering ‘thank you God, thank you thank you thank you..’.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Thursday 13: Easy to Love
I had an almost perfect day today. This occurs no more than once every six months--a rare event when I am caught up, no work, the sun is shining, and I have no pressing chores to juggle.
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I spent this almost perfect day with a hoe, rake and tablespoon. I turned the soil over in the little garden beside the driveway, cleaned up the weeds and deadwood, planted five dahlia bulbs, and laid out two rows of green beans. The result is simply that the garden now looks tended to and not neglected.
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I love my yard. It is too big for me to keep up with so I tackle only a section at a time, and that is fine with me. I love this time of year: soon the yard will become another room in the house and I will be out there watching the grass grow and thinking some big and some little thoughts.
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I am going to publish the story of Alex and Lily. If I don't get picked up by a publisher, I will self publish. The path seems pretty clear--I'm surprised at that--so once I finish the book, now within a week or two or three--I know what I'll do first, and second, and third.
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I like being back to work. I like my clients. I like the flexibility of not being in an office.
.
This should be a Thursday 13, but it isn't......
:)
.
I spent this almost perfect day with a hoe, rake and tablespoon. I turned the soil over in the little garden beside the driveway, cleaned up the weeds and deadwood, planted five dahlia bulbs, and laid out two rows of green beans. The result is simply that the garden now looks tended to and not neglected.
.
I love my yard. It is too big for me to keep up with so I tackle only a section at a time, and that is fine with me. I love this time of year: soon the yard will become another room in the house and I will be out there watching the grass grow and thinking some big and some little thoughts.
.
I am going to publish the story of Alex and Lily. If I don't get picked up by a publisher, I will self publish. The path seems pretty clear--I'm surprised at that--so once I finish the book, now within a week or two or three--I know what I'll do first, and second, and third.
.
I like being back to work. I like my clients. I like the flexibility of not being in an office.
.
This should be a Thursday 13, but it isn't......
:)
Friday, May 02, 2008
Chapter 34
Alex dialed the number with measured nonchalance. She smiled when after a customary two and a half rings, she heard Mike’s gruffy voice.
.
“Hello, Mike Fournier here”
.
Alex smiled again.
.
“I heard you’re giving Rebecca a ring."
.
“No comment”
.
“I’m glad, Mike"
.
"No comment".
.
"So maybe now you’ll come here for dinner?"
.
"No"
.
"I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs".
.
"No."
.
"Then for my birthday party?"
.
"No No No."
.
"Come on Mike. It’s time. You know it is."
.
I’ll decide when it’s time, Missy. That part’s totally 100 percent up to me."
.
"Mike.. "
.
"What?"
.
"I love you."
“Yeah yeah yeah. "
.
"And Mike.."
.
"What?"
.
"I don’t approve of how you reorganized the garage."
.
"Tough. Organize your own garage. "
.
"Mike.."
.
"What now?"
.
"Don’tcha think we can be in the same room again?"
.
"Maybe. I’ll let you know."
.
"Mike.."
.
"What Alex?"
.
"Love mulitiplies, you know.."
.
"Yeah . Maybe……BYE".
.
“Hello, Mike Fournier here”
.
Alex smiled again.
.
“I heard you’re giving Rebecca a ring."
.
“No comment”
.
“I’m glad, Mike"
.
"No comment".
.
"So maybe now you’ll come here for dinner?"
.
"No"
.
"I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs".
.
"No."
.
"Then for my birthday party?"
.
"No No No."
.
"Come on Mike. It’s time. You know it is."
.
I’ll decide when it’s time, Missy. That part’s totally 100 percent up to me."
.
"Mike.. "
.
"What?"
.
"I love you."
“Yeah yeah yeah. "
.
"And Mike.."
.
"What?"
.
"I don’t approve of how you reorganized the garage."
.
"Tough. Organize your own garage. "
.
"Mike.."
.
"What now?"
.
"Don’tcha think we can be in the same room again?"
.
"Maybe. I’ll let you know."
.
"Mike.."
.
"What Alex?"
.
"Love mulitiplies, you know.."
.
"Yeah . Maybe……BYE".
.
“Bye back” Alex said. She waited to hang up until she heard Mike put the phone back on its receiver. Then, still smiling, she stood in place a moment so she would remember this moment.The impossible and improbable had shifted and they both knew it. Mike and Alex, two starstruck kids who married eachother 20 years ago, two caring parents to Amy and Andy, would love one another again. Their relationship would be different, but not the love. The love, hidden for a while under a damp rock, was reaching for the sun again.
“Bye back” Alex said. She waited to hang up until she heard Mike put the phone back on its receiver. Then, still smiling, she stood in place a moment so she would remember this moment.The impossible and improbable had shifted and they both knew it. Mike and Alex, two starstruck kids who married eachother 20 years ago, two caring parents to Amy and Andy, would love one another again. Their relationship would be different, but not the love. The love, hidden for a while under a damp rock, was reaching for the sun again.
Chapter 33
Long before there was Lily and Alex, the first woman Lily ever kissed was her best friend Gail. They were juniors in college and driving home from a Budweiser-laced frat party, crunched up in Lily’s two seat yellow and white Metropolitan. Both were quite drunk and a reasonable person would have questioned Lily ability to drive, but it was 1977 and drinking and driving wasn’t too much to get excited about.
.
Lily saw the red light at the last moment. She thumped to a stop at the corner of Upton and Cardinal and with an unceremonious lack of grace she and Gail landed just about on top of each other. Before she knew it Gail was kissing her and not just a peck.
.
Lily saw the red light at the last moment. She thumped to a stop at the corner of Upton and Cardinal and with an unceremonious lack of grace she and Gail landed just about on top of each other. Before she knew it Gail was kissing her and not just a peck.
.
“Whoa”, Lily said, “Gail, I had no idea”. She tossed her head back and laughed.
“Whoa”, Lily said, “Gail, I had no idea”. She tossed her head back and laughed.
.
“I had no idea either” Gail slurred, chuckling with obvious satisfaction before she kissed Lily again. This time her tongue slid into and linqered in Lily’s mouth, and Lily panicked and pulled away.
“I had no idea either” Gail slurred, chuckling with obvious satisfaction before she kissed Lily again. This time her tongue slid into and linqered in Lily’s mouth, and Lily panicked and pulled away.
.
“Hey!” Lily said, enjoying her own chuckle. “We’re at a streetlight. We could get arrested for making out and obstructing traffic.”
“Hey!” Lily said, enjoying her own chuckle. “We’re at a streetlight. We could get arrested for making out and obstructing traffic.”
.
She laughed again, her words spilling one on top of one another. “Not to mention two women kissing each other. Do you get arrested for that?”.
.
“No, Lily, you get aROUSE—sed”. At that, they laughed so hard Lily was forced to pull over, where they and the little yellow and white Metropolitan sat, motionless for the next thirty minutes. Lily reached for Gail’s hand and held it another until Gail remembered her new almost boyfriend was waiting for her at the apartment.
.
Lily and Gail never kissed again and Gail went on to marry a Harvard graduate who later served as an undersecretary in the Clinton administration.
.
Lily, on the other hand, dated men for another year or so before she reluctantly faced the fact that Gail’s kiss was the best of all. Shortly after she graduated from Northeastern, and just before she started grad school, she answered a personal ad in the Boston Phoenix.
.
Woman seeks woman, it read. 25 year old attractive humorous professional .seeks tall bright and also humorous first date, preferably over dinner and definitely including dancing at midnight.
.
Lily responded with a one page two paragraph letter in her best handwriting. She noted that she was a bit of an introvert, well groomed and fashionable, 5 foot 7inches, an English Lit PhD student partial to both dinner and dancing, and, she added as an afterthought “new to women”, At the advice of her friend Wendy, who had had limited success dating two men through this method, she included a picture of herself and her phone number. Always level headed, she did not include her last name, and instead simply ended with “Sincerely, Lily”
.
A woman named Lorraine called three days later, at 9:30 on a Wednesday night. They agreed to meet on Friday at Grendel’s Den in Cambridge for drinks and dinner. Lorraine said she knew a lesbian bar that was clean, packed, and nearby, and she asked Lily how she felt about sex on a first date.
.
“No, Lily, you get aROUSE—sed”. At that, they laughed so hard Lily was forced to pull over, where they and the little yellow and white Metropolitan sat, motionless for the next thirty minutes. Lily reached for Gail’s hand and held it another until Gail remembered her new almost boyfriend was waiting for her at the apartment.
.
Lily and Gail never kissed again and Gail went on to marry a Harvard graduate who later served as an undersecretary in the Clinton administration.
.
Lily, on the other hand, dated men for another year or so before she reluctantly faced the fact that Gail’s kiss was the best of all. Shortly after she graduated from Northeastern, and just before she started grad school, she answered a personal ad in the Boston Phoenix.
.
Woman seeks woman, it read. 25 year old attractive humorous professional .seeks tall bright and also humorous first date, preferably over dinner and definitely including dancing at midnight.
.
Lily responded with a one page two paragraph letter in her best handwriting. She noted that she was a bit of an introvert, well groomed and fashionable, 5 foot 7inches, an English Lit PhD student partial to both dinner and dancing, and, she added as an afterthought “new to women”, At the advice of her friend Wendy, who had had limited success dating two men through this method, she included a picture of herself and her phone number. Always level headed, she did not include her last name, and instead simply ended with “Sincerely, Lily”
.
A woman named Lorraine called three days later, at 9:30 on a Wednesday night. They agreed to meet on Friday at Grendel’s Den in Cambridge for drinks and dinner. Lorraine said she knew a lesbian bar that was clean, packed, and nearby, and she asked Lily how she felt about sex on a first date.
.
“Not good” Lily had said.
“Not good” Lily had said.
.
“That’s ok” Lorraine said. “Let’s see what happens--if we’re attracted to one another”
“That’s ok” Lorraine said. “Let’s see what happens--if we’re attracted to one another”
.
“What happens if we’re not attracted to one another?”, Lily asked.
“What happens if we’re not attracted to one another?”, Lily asked.
.
“Well then, we’ll still go to the bar but maybe we’ll prowl on our own”.
“Well then, we’ll still go to the bar but maybe we’ll prowl on our own”.
.
When she hung up the phone, Lily was amused. Is this really how it works? she wondered. She couldn’t imagine a guy ever being so blunt so fast. And yet, practically speaking, Lorraine’s approach made some sense. She liked the idea of a back door, and it seemed an easy way for her to foray into her first lesbian bar.
When she hung up the phone, Lily was amused. Is this really how it works? she wondered. She couldn’t imagine a guy ever being so blunt so fast. And yet, practically speaking, Lorraine’s approach made some sense. She liked the idea of a back door, and it seemed an easy way for her to foray into her first lesbian bar.
.
Lorraine, she thought to herself, If you’re missing teeth or wearing a bowling shirt, I’ll definitely be prowling elsewhere.
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