Another Sweater Tale

Whoa! I wrote this several years ago when I didn't know that time and distance would give me a broader and more nuanced perspective.  But still, for me, there is truth in this complicated allegory. We all know life can get complicated .

FYI: I wouldn't know how to  interpret this for you, so  I'll be interested in what you may or may not get from it. 

Love
kj

Because

 I know the most about this, I have to be the one to fold it over and inside out so it still looks and feels like the same soft sweater that fits in every nip and tuck but the trying on and taking off stops for once and all. It’s too late to side step the price tag-- imbedded charges with accumulating interest—but still, I wouldn’t change the cost even if I could, which I can’t .  

There are certain steps that must be taken today. There is no return-of-goods counter—just a “you buy it, you own it” policy with fine print I didn’t read then and don’t want to read now. I know I must hem the predestined pleats and complicated seams, iron out past and future wrinkles caused by sitting still too long, air out the fabric so it remains pure and air fresh.  Meanwhile, even though I’m dressed to the hilt, I’ll still carry those tarot sticks near and far, carry them because I freely picked them up to begin with, and I want to hold onto even the smallest  branch. I’ll be taking one step after another on my way to town, even though the one-day- all-out tag sale is for naught.  

If destiny has another plan, I’ll be there, waiting first in line for the doors to open.  But there is no special sale on this day. There is no discount or resizing that can make this anything other than what it is. It is not that. It is only this. And what it is is so inestimable I will spend the better part of my life on the budget plan, making regular payments into an account where withdrawals will be scarce, (but worth every penny?) I can purchase only what I have paid for, and I can take home only certain sizes even if they’re wrong for the circumstance.  I came here freely and knowingly. I knew then there was no warranty, but the fit was so exquisitely perfect I made a deal with destiny. I would carry the sticks and accept the conditions in exchange for the moments when the fit came straight from God’s designer.

Meanwhile, under a canopy of shining stars, we dance and then we linger. And then, always, once more, we are  free.

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

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

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

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