Animal Wednesday: Emily's Garden Update

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WAA WAA WAH WAA WAH BOO HOO!

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kj put my post on the wrong blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You have to go here:

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www.bloglandlane.blogspot.com

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please please please click on this

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because I will be very depressed

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if I don't get attention because of kj's error,

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which she says was not her fault

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but I blame her anyway.

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Sincerely

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Emily Rabbit

The Precursor and Predictable Story of Two Little Boys and One Little Rabbit

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Ryan, what was your favorite part of the weekend?

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The lollipops and jellybeans.

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Ryan, some people might tell you there is no such thing as growing lollipops and jellybeans in the garden.

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But there is, Gram. I watered them. And I ate them.

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Ryan, do you know Emily Rabbit?

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Who is that?

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She is a rabbit and as sure as I know anything

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she is going to charge me rent money

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for enjoying her garden.

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What is rent money?

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Nevermind .

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Drew, what was your favorite part of the weekend?

BAbaBAbaBAbaBA. Translation: Playing in the yard and eating cherrios.

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And as the weekend drew to a close.....

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...a note suddenly appeared in between the rows of lollipops:

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Oh dear....

Untitled

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What a great weekend I had. Nothing like spending precious time with adored wonderful children who laugh when they are happy and cry when they are upset. Simple and real. Sometimes I wonder how we adults lose that simplcity along the way.

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It's been too long since I've written poetry. I love poetry. I used to write prolifically, sometimes two or more poems a week, but one day a bit more than a year ago, I just stopped. I know why.

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I wrote this poem on Nerissa Nields' couch one Monday night when I was still lost and reeling and even so, wishing, wanting to allow for something good.

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It's much easier here in the blogs and for most of us to share and write optimistically; harder to talk about what's wrong. I think this is actually an optimistic poem, but lest anyone think, despite my many blessings, that I'm coasting along with a heart with no cracks in it: nope. Not me.

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If you've been hurt, please accept this poem as a rest stop along the way. I think some good comes from hearts that break. I'm not as sure as I used to be, but I'm still pretty sure.

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Untitled

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If a heart can break in two

Can it break in fours

And eights

And sixteens and thirty twos?

And if it can break into that many pieces

All small enough to fit in the fold of my hand

Can I shake those pieces up,

Shake them in a martini tumbler

Or hand them to the crappier at Foxwoods,

Ask her to toss them long and hard;

Watch them tumble all over the surface that is me

Spilling all that unused love into welcomed waiting corners

Like warm raindrops in the August sun.

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Love

kj

Saturday

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A certain kind of love by Mr. Ryan, age 3

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How many grown ups have scary rubber lizards outside the door a of Magic Cottage?
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How many grown ups let you eat ice cream in the Big Boy Chair, even if it's a little past your bedtime?

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And have a fairy named Chole in the back yard who isn't scary and lives in the ferns?

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How many grown ups don't mind letting my brother Drewbee and me squirt the hose in every direction, no matter how wet we get?

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How many grown ups have lollipops in their garden so you can just pick any color you want and pull it right from the ground?

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(Except for some reason even though all the sticks and wrappers looked perfect, there were no lollipops inside--not one! Gram and I had to plant two brand new rows. Did someone eat all the lollipops and then make it look like she didn't?)

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And how many grown ups love my Mother so much they wrote a poem about her and if they could they would do anything in the entire world for her, no questions asked... (and for me and Drewbee and my Dad too)

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Jessica

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Take both eyes, both hands,
My legs and arms,
Even take the precious German clock
And every special book.
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Take my bank account,
All twenty photo albums,
My garden in August
And the miraculous April rain.
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Take it all if you can promise.
I knew in the instant this would be so.
I’m into any burning house,
Onto a frigid raft at sea,
I’m ripping the mangled steel with my bare hands.
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Anything, anything for this girl.
The edgeless corners of the truest love
And the endless reserve of cavernous protection
Surround this child who lives within and without,
This fantabulous kid with the crack up wit
And the tender expansive heart.
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Take it all, whether you are a son-of-a-bitch
Or an evolving angel,
Whether the cost is temporary or forever,
Take it all if you’ll shelter this child
Through every molecular motion and moment.
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She sits at a desk with wall
And she finds little bargains at malls.
She eats salads at Bugaboo Creek
And on Sundays brings Sprite to her grandmother.
She is an anchor in an unsteady world.
She is hybrid fuel to those who love her.
She is a reason to push
And the forever foremost answer
To everything that could ever matter.
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Given the chance to love like this,
The price of my sightless limbless body
And wiped clean barren possessions
Amounts to nothing more than shiny pennies and
And effortless will.

Mish Mash Splish Spalsh

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I feel like I've been away too long, which I kind of have since I've had one weekend in the tall big city and another in the rolling green country. I wasn't far from blogging and my friends here though. I thought of you every time I snapped my camera or came across something I couldn't wait to share.
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I'm writing this on Thursday night. Tomorrow JB and I are driving two hours to see how the spiffying up of my Mother's house is coming along, and Mr. Ryan and baby Mr. Drew are coming for the weekend. This will be total exhaustion. I say this from experience. But I am very excited. I am loving figuring out what I will and want to give/share/support/guide/love these two precious grandchildren of mine. Ryan is 3, Drew turned one in April. I don't know Drew as well as I know Ryan. So time with him is overdue and good.

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We will all walk to the park next door. There is a little water park, an electric train with little carriage cars, paddle boats, the river and fireplace sites. In a nearby town there is the Eric Carle Museum. There will be probably be pancakes made by me, books and puzzles on the couch, digging in dirt, pushing petunias into the ground. And I don't know what else yet. I am hoping my exhaustion does not take over until Sunday. I doubt that is in any way a realistic hope. :)
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Anyway, this is supposed to be a mish mash. Here goes:
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1. Clients: When I post about my clients, I don't do it to get compliments on what a good person I am to do this work. I appreciate the compliments, but honestly I'm more interested in whether what I share shines a light on something that is helpful to know, that might help you or someone else.
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So in this vein may I tell you that Lily turns 14 next week. Things are way better for her than they were a year ago; then she and her Mother were two of the poorest clients I had-- barely furniture in the apartment and no money for anything. Lily is not likely to make it past 8th grade. She doesn't even try and the schools she will go to are bad. Anyway, for her birthday I took her over the bridge five miles to Michael's Arts and Crafts Store. I told her she could buy

$ 10 worth of anything. This was a big trip for her. She was nervous when I seemed lost (I was). She had never heard of Michael's before. The whole thing was a smash success. When I took her home, she hugged me, said thank you, even stopped non-stop talking for two minutes. Here's what I hope: I hope she will remember this as one of those moments you always remember. (note: therapists are not really supposed to be taking clients to stores. I push the envelope. I think it's good therapy.)
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2. There are currently 31 stories and letters to Renee on the blog "Renee's Book of Love". I haven't written mine yet, and many others of Renee's friends haven't yet. I hope by Fall maybe we'll have 50 stories, or more. This is what I'm thinking to make a book out of this: I am going to take copies of some of Renee's posts to the local Cancer Connection. Then I'm going to ask them to endorse a local grant I will then apply to for $ 1000 to publish Renee's book.
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This is one of those things I am just trusting will get done one way or another. Thank you for the privilege, Ms. Renee. (note # 2: If you happen to be in love with Renee and you haven't contributed something in words or colors yet, please consider doing so. I think it will make you happy for years ahead.)
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& Wonderful talented amazing Caroline has given her permission to use this wonderful talented amazing watercolor for the cover of Renee's Book of Love

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3. Stella is feeling better, but she is not herself. The surgery took a lot out of her. She is afraid to walk in certain parts of the house. She needs towel changes on her bed. She won't come in my office or go out the back door. I think she will continue to improve. As for the tumor, it will likely come back but hopefully not soon. I hope not for two years anyway. This is a good dog. She tries as hard as she can, and she says thank you with her eyes.

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4. Friends: Don't they look like fun to hang out with?
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5. HELP! I only have so much time, and I don't know whether to work on my second book, promote my first one, or at least try to draw and paint. Please tell me what to do..... :)

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6. Sometimes at night the light in my house looks unreal. It might be the yellow walls, or my camera, but I don't think that's all of it.

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7. Do you think these signs are funny?

These are not city signs.

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8. I am going to Provincetown for 3 WEEKS in August. JB and I will have lots of company: (and possibly certain friends who make my heart sing). I hope I get five days alone to write. In Provincetown the words just seem to flow; I just have to keep up with them so I can write them down.

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Finally, if you've been reading this post too long already, lucky for you it's taking me too long to download or is it upload any more of my photos. So I will end here by clarifying that I still qualify as a bona fide confused seeker and I am not out of the emotional woods yet even though I concede that I may be and not know it.....
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Just saying...,
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Love
kj

Animal Wednesday: Advice from the Dearly Departed

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Hello! It's me, Emily
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I HAD to show you these Bunny Ears.

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Do you SEE them?

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They're Mine!

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While kj was in Vermont I visited my dearly departed Aunt Alfalfa; don't ask me how I managed to do that because it is a secret in the rabbit community and I would get in BIG trouble if I told. It would be worse than telling you how a magician pulls a rabbit from a hat and by the way sometimes the magician is too rough and it can really create ear aches, which if you've ever had one, is no fun and it's worse for rabbits as you might already imagine.

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Anyway, here I am visiting Aunt Alfalfa and she is giving me tips on abundance, mostly involving lollipops and jellybeans but some times just believing in it, and she is telling me she has never grown upside down cake and she thinks it's a long shot, and then, guess who I see right then and there?

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First I heard this sound: HAR HAR HAR

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Then I heard: "That lori ann is so fucking clever."

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Then I look at this happy woman with a huge grin and long grey hair and nice hands and she has giant wings that sway when she moves and she keeps saying 'fuck this' and 'fuck that' while she laughs (it is not my fault about saying that word because I just heard it not said it myself) and when she sees me she says, "Emily! Don't tell kj I said fuck in front of you. She doesn't need to know, HAR HAR HAR!"

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She looked at me straight on. "Jesus Christ, It's me, Emily. It's RENEE. I want you to do me several favors when you hop down from this cloud."

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"First, I want you to tell my family, especially Anqelique and Jacquie, that I am working on a way for them to hear me. Tell them there is so much love here in heaven I am going to send some down for spare use, not that they need it."

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"Second, I want you to tell kj to get a grip and keep it. Tell her I said, "She's not even worth it!" She'll know what I mean."

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"And third, I want you to tell everyone to go to Lori's blog http://loritimesfive.blogspot.com/ and leave a comment even though her offer to donate a dollar for each comment expired already. Leave a comment because maybe kj and maybe even Lori's friend Nancy won't notice that the offer expired already and if they don't notice then they will have to pay more and it all goes to a good cause. It would be a fucking--oops--darn shame if Lori and kj and now Nancy couldn't contribute all their grocery money to help those poor birds in the Gulf Coast."

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By the way, Renee also said, "Some of those birds have arrived here in heaven, Emily, and they are being well taken care of. There is no oil in heaven, although there are jelly donuts and chocolate truffles. Tell everyone that too."

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So for once I am doing as I was told and I don't mind this one time because I am always very well behaved after I visit my Aunt Alfalfa and it lasts for at least three days before I start to whine again and sometimes I don't have a temper tantrum for as long as a week. My Aunt Alfalfa says heaven affects rabbits that way. I don't know how it affects people but Renee seemed pretty happy although I did not get the sense that she was going to start behaving anytime soon.

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If you go and visit Lori, please tell her I Emily Rabbit said hello and wondered if any of that money should maybe be dedicated to helping the New England Bunny Business with the start up cost of its jellybean production.

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Sincerely Yours,

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Emily R.

* You can find Renee at http://circlingmyhead.blogspot.com

Ms.Tabasco and Mr. Ketchup

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Ms. Tabasco was attracted to tall sleek trim men.

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She met Mr. Ketchup at a regional plate conference

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where they inexplicably noticed one another from a distance

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until they found themselves sharing the same scrambled eggs.

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Soon after Mr. Ketchup asked Ms. Tabasco to dinner.
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which extended into the night

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in Mr. Ketchup's corner of the pantry.

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To their great surprise,

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Ms. Tabasco and Mr. Ketchup

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found they were very emotionally

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and sexually compatible

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In fact, they were quite hot blooded and adventurous

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even daring and acrobatic
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Ms. Tabasco learned that sleek and trim wasn't everything.

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And Mr. Ketchup learned that he was

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lovable and agile.

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They bought new hats for the occasion,

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and Ms. Tabasco and Mr. Ketchup

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were married one June day

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on a glass tabletop

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celebrating with their families and friends,

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including an interracial salt and pepper shaker.

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Another powerful example that good love can be very blind.

Come Join Me: A weekend in Vermont

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The farmhouse was built in 1796. My friend and her husband mustered up considerable courage, bought it and the land, and moved to very rural Vermont two years ago, after many years of living in a three room condo in the upscale south end of Boston.

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It was a lifestyle change of giant magnitude for them.

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The nearest sizable town, which is to say it has a Main Street with a coffee shop and other storefronts, is 20 minutes away. My friends have been greatly welcomed by their neighbors, one of which supplied the pork ribs we grilled for dinner, provided from his now decreased pig (I couldn't bare to wonder if the pig had a name.)

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Throughout the course of the weekend, we had farm fresh eggs, farm fresh yogurt, cheese, ice cream, which we bought directly from Robie Farm. We had home baked bread and fresh strawberries and Vermont bacon.

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Eight acres

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a front yard garden
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no reason to wear shoes

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time for three Big Yellow friends to sit

in a coffee shop

most of the morning

and write and read aloud together
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time to admire the art of watercolors

(check out the website of Mark Neilsen),
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the colors of the local farmstands

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time to cook together and eat together

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to watch birds and play with cats,

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to color, hide, seek and giggle with two great kids,

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to enjoy the rhythm of friends

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and remember how deep and sweet love can be
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to let yourself be astonished

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by simple sights
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to walk the land
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relax

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do cartwheels

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follow the cut grass at dusk
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until you see the light again

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and in the end,

effortlessly say thank you

for the times that remind and replenish

everything good.

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(and when I arrived home

I was greeted by a friend

so dear.

She gets embarrassed sometimes

when I gush over her,

she who watched over my dog Stella

and my homestead;

she who I hope will

grant me the privilege of

being her friend for a goodly

lifetime)

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love

kj