Thursday, May 29, 2014

Longmont Library

It's no secret I consider libraries to be sacred ground, and Longmont's library is no exception. The richness of its offerings is there for your perusal each and every time you step throw the doors. If you have questions, the librarians have answers. While in the children's section, I found an ABC book I liked. The artwork appealed to me, but the examples for some of the letters of the alphabet struck me as funny. The book was titled, "Country Road ABC", and was written by Arthur Geisert.


A is for ammonia fertilizer.
(You say what?)


I is for inoculate.
(and D is for debeaking)


K is for kick.
(H is for hamburger)


N is for no mail today.
(This is my favorite. Really? No mail today?)


Q is for quicksand.
(a very common problem apparently)


U is for uphill.
(Right up there with A is for air)

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

The Workweek Begins

It was a productive three-day weekend, with a little bit of fun thrown in, but not enough. Each day, the weather was nice in the morning, but clouded up and rained later in the day. We like the moisture and being able to delay the annual ritual of turning on the sprinklers. (that never work well anyway) Our bathroom looked like a grey prison cell purchased on eBay then outfitted with bathroom fixtures. Steve painted it over the weekend. I'm sure that isn't how he wanted to spend his time but the results were worth it.

I am now the owner of the writing software Scrivener. I am doing my best with the tutorial but it's not going smoothly.  Scrivener should be able to help me with organizing my novel. I lose a lot of good stuff as I slog along the writer's path. I need every bit of good writing I can generate. I would like to meet someone who is currently using Scrivener.

It's time to get in the car to begin my week. Grandchildren await my arrival. Wish me luck with the software.


Prison color VS new innocuous color


Pretty Monday morning caused a short drive to occur

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Flash, Boom!

Coming home from Boulder last night, we were treated to the sight of a huge thunderstorm to the north. The sky was flashing and booming right over the Loveland area, causing flooding of both rivers, lakes, and the town. More flooding is almost a certainty after last year's catastrophic flood. Damage like that cannot be healed in mere months. The fires, of which there were many, denuded large areas in the mountains, adding more water to the watershed as the snowpack begins to melt. Still, the storm was beautiful.

After several days of severe thunderstorms along the Front Range,  today was a welcome respite. Colorado is lush and people are outside enjoying the moderate temperatures. The major weather events make the national news but hundreds of perfect days like today are why we live here.






Sunday, May 18, 2014

Farewell Weekend!

With such good weather, the weekend turned out well. Lots of work in the yard, but also coffee with a friend, a walk, writing, grocery shopping, housework (boo!), but we ended the weekend with a canoe trip around Union Reservoir. There were so many birds on the reservoir tonight, and a large variety of frog sounds. One large fish jumped out of the water right when I was looking, and I particularly enjoyed the yellow-headed blackbirds and the pelicans.


Spring has been gentle this year.


The mountains are barely visible in the photo, but they were snowcapped and lovely.

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Well-Adjusted Robins

This warm and sunny Saturday was perfect for getting outside to prepare the yard for summer. The canopy and fountain are set up, the innocuous wooden wind chime is in place, a lot of weeds were pulled, and one hanging basket has been planted with petunias.

I'm tired.


A robin took a long bath, with repeated dips in the pool. I was pulling weeds beneath the bird bath, getting pretty wet from her afternoon ablutions, but she wasn't bothered by my presence in the least.


A robin at the hardware store made her nest in a display of trellises. The nest is composed of organic matter and the plastic from the garden shop. She was nervous from the attention.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Bogus Calls From Sierra Leone

I'm getting a lot of calls from a number that looks like it's from a 232 area code, but it's the country code for Sierra Leone. Turns out it's a scam to get you to return the "missed" call. You are then charged an exorbitant amount for your international call. There are apparently a few other scams originating in Sierra Leone and Pakistan (among others). This does not improve my opinion of my fellow man.




Spring is Tricky in Colorado


The big rule for gardeners in Colorado is to never plant a thing until Mother's Day. Nurseries do a huge business once that holiday comes along.  But, this year, Mother Nature  decided to give herself the gift of more wintertime. Maybe she overslept. Maybe she's feeling a little bitchy. (she's no spring chicken, after all) So she's snowing and freezing and bending branches, and crashing cars, and it's after Mother's Day. Saturday was warm and a beautiful spring day. Sunday was not.
Saturday




Eudora Welty's Request for a Job

When I read this letter, I immediately regretted I would never know this woman in person. I've always loved her writing, but this letter reveals her personality in a most unguarded way. I'll bet she was a hoot at a party. I'll bet Thurber laughed out loud at her remark about him.


March 15, 1933
Gentlemen,
I suppose you’d be more interested in even a sleight-o’-hand trick than you’d be in an application for a position with your magazine, but as usual you can’t have the thing you want most.
I am 23 years old, six weeks on the loose in N.Y. However, I was a New Yorker for a whole year in 1930–31 while attending advertising classes in Columbia’s School of Business. Actually I am a southerner, from Mississippi, the nation’s most backward state. Ramifications include Walter H. Page, who, unluckily for me, is no longer connected with Doubleday-Page, which is no longer Doubleday-Page, even. I have a B.A.(’29) from the University of Wisconsin, where I majored in English without a care in the world. For the last eighteen months I was languishing in my own office in a radio station in Jackson, Miss., writing continuities, dramas, mule feed advertisements, santa claus talks, and life insurance playlets; now I have given that up.
As to what I might do for you — I have seen an untoward amount of picture galleries and 15¢ movies lately, and could review them with my old prosperous detachment, I think; in fact, I recently coined a general word for Matisse’s pictures after seeing his latest at the Marie Harriman: concubineapple. That shows you how my mind works — quick, and away from the point. I read simply voraciously, and can drum up an opinion afterwards.
Since I have bought an India print, and a large number of phonograph records from a Mr. Nussbaum who picks them up, and a Cezanne Bathers one inch long (that shows you I read e. e. cummings I hope), I am anxious to have an apartment, not to mention a small portable phonograph. How I would like to work for you! A little paragraph each morning — a little paragraph each night, if you can’t hire me from daylight to dark, although I would work like a slave. I can also draw like Mr. Thurber, in case he goes off the deep end. I have studied flower painting.
There is no telling where I may apply, if you turn me down; I realize this will not phase you, but consider my other alternative: the U of N.C. offers for $12.00 to let me dance in Vachel Lindsay’s Congo. I congo on. I rest my case, repeating that I am a hard worker.
Truly yours,
Eudora Welty

Monday, May 5, 2014

Springtime Rocks

Spring is extra sweet when you dislike winter as much as I do. Steve went canoeing this morning before work, I wrote several pages that needed to be finished, then I went to the ranch to enjoy the lush green grass, and the good company of my horse.



Cooper

Sunday, May 4, 2014

The Airport as Melting Pot

You see a little bit of everything in an airport. The stories I imagine about people run the gamut. I wonder about the lady with six kids struggling to take them to the bathroom before their flight. Ranchers in full western regalia, visitors from other lands, student trips with harried chaperones. If I made a full list of the types of people I observe in an airport, it would be extensive.

There is a blog I enjoy reading that is written by a very successful writer. She travels the world doing fascinating things, enjoying other famous people's company, then writes about it. But one of her posts didn't sit well with me. Granted, I'm from a different social class than hers. (and I don't believe our society is classless) This writer was stuck in LAX and getting, admittedly, "scrappy", but besides making questionable remarks about someone's weight, crop tops, people wearing pajamas in the airport, and the amount of food being eaten, she also used her great gift of writing to harp about  footwear. People who wear Birkenstocks without socks make her "queasy". People who wear those shoes with each toe separately enclosed make her "sick". Crocs make her "super sick".  I wanted to find her super-secret address so I could wave Birkenstocks in her face while wearing my Crocs and yelling at her, "Who actually cares about crap like this, Bitch?"

I'm a terrible dresser. Not going to change anytime soon. I wear hiking boots because they're comfortable. And here's the big news: I wear Tevas with socks. The horror! I don't like the feel of Tevas without socks so, here's an idea, if you don't like the way I dress, then quit looking at my damn feet!

I was taken aback the last time I flew, when an adult woman wearing flannel pajamas and slippers sat in my row. I frowned. I cogitated. I decided I'd seen much worse on a plane than a clean-looking woman in cute pajamas, then I read my book and minded my own business.

I'll continue to peruse her blog because she's a fine writer, and I do believe she's entitled to her opinions. Maybe she was venting as she waited for her postponed flight, but I'd like to see the side of her that is kinder and not so upper-crusty.


I believe the middle seat is mine.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Boundary Issues in a Tough World

Eric Maisel writes: When we say that a person has boundary issues, we mean that he is doing one or the other of two inappropriate things: that he is insufficiently protecting his own being or that he is aggressively intruding on others.

This is a subject I'm thinking about lately. I'm trying to find some new writers for the writing group and, through the advertising, a past member contacted me and plans to rejoin the group. So what"s my problem?

She has a brain condition that causes her to be, most of all, angry. She's also frustrated, opinionated, bad with money, and very needy. My heart goes out to someone who has these major issues to deal with.  It was no fault of her's that this happened to her. But...because I didn't protect my boundaries, I ended up giving her rides while listening to her monologue of anger the entire time. She would walk to my house then need a ride home. She borrowed cat food, telling me it had been days since her cat has eaten, and borrowed money. Because of her short-term memory problems and confusion, she would show up in my neighborhood then knock on doors until she found someone to phone me to come pick her up. The end of my patience was the 3 AM phone call from the hospital to come get her. She was raging but the doctor, in his medical wisdom, decided to send her out of the hospital in the middle of the night. She shoved a duffle bag at me and I almost fell over. It must have weighed 40 pounds. She was carrying around a cast iron cauldron and all of her Wiccan accoutrements. A police woman laughed and walked away as we left the waiting room. I think the officer knew that she was the only one present with appropriate boundaries.

And this lost soul wants to be in the writing group again. I always thought I was a kind person, but she is the one who wore me out. She showed me the water level in my well of kindness has dropped.

Why is she out in the world on her own? She has a mother, a social worker, different kinds of doctors, neighbors, yet lives alone. She won't take her medications, sleeps with any guy who shows her attention, and she just repeatedly wears people out with her inability to be happy. If I could find her mother (somewhere in Arizona) I would throttle her for abandoning her daughter.

I don't know where to set my boundary in this case. I'm not capable of throwing compassion out the window but, if she can't listen to the professionals who try to care for her, then it's hopeless. If she comes to the writing group, I won't be able to give her rides. Not even once because that's how it starts. I won't give her my phone number. This will be a major issue. With what I know now, will I be capable of setting appropriate
boundaries?