Old man one day (unfinished)

Within the yellow warmth of incandescent glow,
The mustached professor sat by window as snow
Fell gently on French countryside, garden and wood.
At his desk he sipped single malt before he could
Take a moment to sigh and wonder where his pen
Could have gone--not on the blotter nor in his vest.
Then instead his weary mind sought distraction lest
He not remember at all where he had set down
His faithful stylus. So notebook he seeks, a frown
And a furrowed brow upon his face. His journal
Where memories, ideas, pleasant or infernal
Could be let loose without affront or offense
On cream colored pages, his cursive letters so dense.
With Moleskine in hand, he still sought that pen to write
Thoughts that coalesced in shadowed mind on winter night.
Confessions, obsessions, anecdotes, text sublime
To write in shaky meter and unstable rhyme.
Papery fragile fingers rustled scraps and notes,
Pictures of now grown children upon whom he dotes.
He forgets the pen, for the moment anyway.
Photos and notebooks mental cobwebs swept away.
...

Cross-post from 'A Beautiful Card'

The Moleskine: Mini-Memories A-Go-Go

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With tickets gifted from the kids' grandparents in hand, we trekked into Atlanta. With the aid of online navigation over the phone form my boyfriend John in New York, we found the Green Lot for parking at Turner Field. We went to the ballpark. We rooted for the home team. I bought peanuts. We didn't win. But it wasn't a (cryin') shame because the kids and I had a good time. On TV, Major League Baseball bores me to tears, but live, with all the fan fun and with diaper bags faded memories of the past, we had a great time. I think it made for an all-American night at the ballgame. Even though, as I remarked to the Phillies fans behind us, it seemed as if we'd traveled to the past, an 80's night when the Braves habitually lost. Did they do it just to reminisce on the good times? You know, for a team that's over 100 years old, the fact they can even make it onto the field is impressive. ;0)















(Photo © 2008 Atlanta Braves and MLB)

Talk about an expensive night! But to quote my man John: "It's only money; they print it every day!" Here's the tab:

• Souvenir T-shirt, foam finger, and foam Tomahawk -- $42
• Pizza, hot dog, peanuts, French fries -- $34
• 2 ice creams and a smoothie -- $15
• 5 Cokes and a beer -- $25
• Gasoline to get home -- $48 (ouch!)
• That goofy grin on my daughter's face -- Priceless (Oh, like you couldn't see that coming!)

Chipper Jones knocked a homer, and the crowd went crazy. The kids and I danced at our seats; we helped get a wave around the stadium twice; we booed bad calls from the umpire; we mocked the Phillies' catcher and pitcher who looked like lovebirds with all the time they spent together on the mound. And when a drunken rowdy fan stooped to deriding one of his companions for ordering a Pepsi at Turner Field in Atlanta the Coca Cola capital city, I agreed with those Phillies fans behind me that baseball fandom had reached a new low when soft drink preference was fodder for insults, and whatever happened to slurs about a body's mother or sexual orientation?

Marie, Page and I had a bit of fun guessing what some of the crazy abbreviations meant on the scoreboard. Honestly, I think they just make them up on the fly. But in the bottom of the ninth when the Braves were down by 5, I knew that it was time to beat some of the crowd, and potential drunk drivers, to the parking lot.

The drive home kept us talking from Turner Field to our suburban Interstate exit, and we knew it had been a great night for the three of us. After showers to wash away ballpark stink and sweat, I tucked in two tired teens, and I was asleep fairly soon myself.

Thanks, Atlanta Braves!

Two new photos (151 posts!)

Here are two recent photos. I love using my Olympus E-410. Thank you, John My Sweet Man!

The first is entitled Bathroom Reading and the second is Turtle at My Terrace.

Weekend work

At the eighth hour of a Sunday morn'
instead of in my bed a-snorin'
I sit at the table in my den
to see if a bit of work can then
be done.

However, as I search the 'Net,
finding the right resource is met
with frustration and consternation I read
that the linguistic resources which I need
are hard to locate and aren't too many
and what there is costs a pretty penny
at least.

It seems though now my sear is now thwarted
my trip to Montreal will leave me rewarded
with new materials, dictionaries and books
to get my jobs done quickly looks
possible.