She slept inside a strawberry
Alone and kept on her own
You took big bites each day until
Juicy red flesh collapsed upon her.

Tonight's three minute poem written in response to a FB status update:

Stu Carpenter --

Lions, soldiers, unborn babies, and black motorist... God made them, while we create a hierarchy of who deserves more sympathy. These tragic losses point out differences where empathy could go.

Laurie Kruczek --

They all go to sweet pillow clouds Lofty dream spaces on horizons pinked and peached The daily reminders that destiny is an unmarked destination cultivated by culture, created by domestication We drift, despite the windless, mindlessness of predestination, dividing ourselves between today and a thinner atmosphere Do you want every question answered or do you want the magic, miracles, and surprise of another day?

Some male "friend" on FB just raved on about Elizabeth Hurley, how hot she is at 50, how "fat and gross" American women are at 50+, and how he needed he needed to move to London ASAP.

I read what he wrote and was taken aback. The guy is like pushing 40 fast, losing his hair, 35+ lbs overweight, etc so I was like, 'Who's this guy to pull these standards out for 50+ year old women? Why is it that men think they can be slobs, but expect us to be perfect?

I decided to respond to him without much edit, to make sure my feminist credentials haven't washed off just because it is FB, land of the polite.

My response:

"Those 'fat and gross' women in their 50s don't have the genetics or money or time or desire to continue to binge and purge, suck and tuck, and publicly flaunt their bodies for the consumption of pimple assed balding dudes worldwide, fapping into old man socks while guzzling Mt. Dew in mommy's basement. Most women are mothers and grandmothers by 50 and have richly rewarded lives that don't require men's approval any more than men require ours."

He unFriended me from FB & blocked me from twitter.

😂 Guess my credentials are intact. 😂

So when you see misogyny, much like racism, you have to call it out & claim your opposition. Dudes may hate you, but it's probably because deep down, they know you're right.

Mostly Nightly

Restless sleepless
Tired enough for us both
Up late with laundry
Binge watching canceled shows

Online off line
Over the line
No really, I'm fine
Refresh timeline

I drank the bottle
I ate the cake
I watered the garden
at 2:05am

Forget the sunset
Forget the pink stars
Up comes an amber sunrise
Now pillowing my head

I love my family, even on stress filled days like today. Our family is based in love for all of humankind, not just white vs. black, Christian vs. Muslim, gay vs. straight, or neurotypical vs. intellectually disabled.


Jesus preached not to judge, but to love thy neighbor. If you do not hold this above all else, no matter your religion, race, intellect, or sexual orientation, your walk amongst humans is heading you into a brick wall.


And you dont need Jesus to understand that. You might be atheist and still understand that loving each other is the only way we will ever move forward. We all struggle. We all need empathy. We all need to get real with our prejudices and be decent people on this planet. Please think critically about what you believe before you "believe" it.

Sitting outside in the gorgeous twilight
Looking out over the Columbia River
Lights coming on in the city below
62 degrees and silver-blue skies
Tomorrow will be 70 without a cloud
My sour cherry tree is puffy white
I hear frogs more than traffic
The chickens are finishing off some grasses
My dog is asleep

    Ahhhhhh spring!

weave

There you go.
You have to tell that story.
I'm falling over laughing
and you have to tell that story next.
It's not enough that I love you,
or need you,
or make use of you regularly.
You have to entertain me,
regale me with antics of past mischief,
blind me useless with tears of hysterics,
make me wonder how you got this way,
this especially funny way,
in your lifetime of Catholic masses and stiff business suits.
I can't compete, and you know it,
but it is my insight
(or relentless pondering for insight)
that keeps you interested.
And if it wasn't enough that we loved each other before we met,
or that we married quickly on a rainy Portland night,
but that we turned ourselves into a complexity of counterparts that nothing could separate.
And it never mattered
when we had money or when we didn't.
Three kids (and no water) in a mountain snowstorm,
and the springtime building of a quarter acre garden from nothing.
Butchering chickens,
crying over ducks,
canning wild fruit,
and swimming in the creek.
You thought it would,
but it never broke us when one child left.
We slipped into a tighter weave,
as the other two flourished.

I grew it.
You cooked it.
We ate it together.

You gotta accept it.  Sometimes you wanna go, but you really have to stay, and even though the fairness in that is pretty skewed, just swallow hard and take the blows.

The Dalles is a provincial, slow moving town.  There are times I would give anything to be living in Japan or Hawaii again if it meant not longer living in this conservative backwater.  Of course, we chose to buy a home here, because well, this is the Columbia Gorge, and of all the beautiful scenic places in the world, this is pretty nice.  We figured we'd just make our own scene, like so many other scenes made before.  And probably WE won't have to do very much to make anything happen.  Seems like gradually good stuff is happening, anyway.  Ultimately it will be the wine industry (or even the cider industry) that will save this place from its own demise.  As much as the old timers try to kill this town, it will rise up by the power of invention, and there is nothing those folks can do about it.

But before realizing things would get better, I built up all these projections into moving from here... this 100 degree dirt and sage summer... and well now, that is just gone.  I can live with it.  It always comes down to money, and I totally hate it, but I can live with it.  Being forced to embrace it, you tell yourself to look to some silver lining... to see something unseen but wonderful... and somehow a transcendence will take place.  There are times I recognize the value of what I have.  A natural malcontent, I relinquish my surliness.  I'm not suffering in so many ways others do, and for that, I am extremely grateful.  That doesn't discount how amazing it would have been to live on the Oregon Coast.  I'll cry about it plenty when I'm not so dehydrated.

If you can't walk the beaches of Oregon, you find substitute pleasures.  First choice beach, second choice whatever else you can tolerate.  Nothing beats the first choice or ever will.  I do walk along the Columbia River.  I play God with the nature of my backyard.  I go to the gym and torture myself so I can live forever.  I read about all the things I can't do.  I escape into Alex Chilton melodies and Rolling Stones guitar hooks.  I think about what I want to write and occasionally write about it.

Hey, did you ever pick up momentum, like the world is so perfectly laid out in front of you, only to have one incident nearly destroy it?  Oh god today, I was almost there.  But you know, I REFUSE to let that one incident deter me.  There is nothing worse than letting some asshat get to you, crawl up under your good vibes and send your emotions all to hell.  One little fly on the lip of your glass... you have to just brush it away and get on with the drinking.  My life is too short to answer the question, "So how long do you want to live?"