Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Thunderstorms, Strange Orange Flowers.... The Ascent of Summer...

Behind our house, grow orange flowers.

Waving; glistening, blue from rain.

Thunder causes them to shiver, 

Lightening, illuminates the train.

The whistle sounds despite the torrent,

Muffled by the water's path.

I am walking on the sidewalk, 

In the mist of morning's math.

Are they poppies? Bright green stalks.

They highlight our back cement.

The one bright spot in all the alley,

Marks our house, for we're content.

Soon will come the heat of summer,

Raging, bursting, bright and warm.

Spring is fading fast and faster,

Trees are budding with this storm.

I will long for rainstorms' whisper,

I will thirst for thunder's boom.

My heart burns for lightening's flash,

When hiding from the sun, in rooms.

Fans will dance with undulation,

Slow; their breath across our skin.

Iced tea sweats in glasses warming,

Brewed with sunshine, ice cubes thin.

We shall swim in lakes and rivers,

Beer and wine, tequila too.

I'll not drink, but taste the mint,

Which bites my water glass full through.

All too soon the evening's crickets,

Singing deep in trees and grass,

Will foretell of wind and fire,

Leaping, to repeat the past.

Ripe the fruit of lazy summer,

Sweet the taste of morning dew.

Sweat and freckles, books and movies,

All delivered right to you.

Then the evenings' mud will harden,

Cold and solid; black and thick.

Autumn comes; it slips right in,

Behind your thoughts; a worthy trick.

I shall miss the summer showers,

Wearing next to nothing: skin.

Fall, my favorite winds my hours,

For now, the rain begins again.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

In Defense of my Defense...

I find myself frequently running low on patience these days.

Normally, I consider myself to be a very patient person (at least for all outward appearances) because I consider that to be a trait of basic, common decency.

Being pregnant, all my "zen," has gone out the window.

I find myself talking out loud in the car... to no one.

Well, really, I am conversing with the driver who just cut someone off--
-- or nearly hit me by ignoring a protected arrow turning--
--- or who ran a stop-sign to my left--
--or who is tailgating myself or someone near me.

I also find that my passion is leaking out of me all the time!

Small things that would normally be the cause of a gentle discussion and frank exchange of ideas, set me up on a vehement soap box.

Most recently in defense of vegan and vegetarianism.

I find that I am less able to let things go -- I have to open my mouth. :-P


I was never so easily offended as I am now.

Noises, comments, worries... all of these things are parading around my consciousness.

The good news is, I have not tossed my cookies today -- without anti-nausea herbal help.
That's certainly a milestone.

The bad, or not "bad," so much as slightly disheartening bit, is that emotions (both my own and those of others) seem to affect me more than usual.

I thought I'd done my homework on this, but sharing a body with a tiny new life has spread my energies thin, and to be honest, I find myself becoming upset over ridiculous things that would never bother me normally.

I keep trying to envision "water off a whale's back," and to ground myself, but though I dig my bare feet deeply into the mud of the earth and my soul, I cannot seem to find my equilibrium.

"Oh Love, this is completely normal. Haven't you heard that pregnant women are crazy and hormonal and cry all the time?"

Well, yes. I have heard that. I will also admit, that I cry particularly quickly when I see cute things, like puppies.

However, while I am used to feeling passionately and deeply, I am not used to feeling constantly insecure and cranky all. The. Time.

Hopefully, this will pass.

Well, it has to.

In other news: I still love the smell that sits between the pages of books, as well as the smell of my fingers after playing my guitar.

At least I have some comforting things left. ;-)

Happy May Everybody.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

May the 4th Be With You...


  I jerked awake. 

An alarm had been going off in my dream... I was making lavender caramels for my mother and then a huge buzzer... wait, no... that was J's phone. Hastily I grabbed it, feeling him stir next to me.

"Honey, you got a call," I mumbled and handed him the phone.

"Mmmmph. I don't know this number."

"It's 1:45 AM," I said with a sigh, "Did they leave a message?"

"Nope," he replied, setting his phone on his bedside table. 

He snuggled up to me with a groan, and we tried to go back to sleep. I felt so uncomfortable, hot and cold... my pulse pounding in my ears. 

Groggily, and with a stuffy nose, I managed to slip back into the gray depths of dreams.



Mom smiled at me as the doorbell's sonorous tones echoed into the kitchen. 

"Good morning. She's only got the one bag. Thank you," I said to the shuttle driver as he opened the screen door, the springs groaned slightly.

"Well Honey, I'm so glad I was able to come. I'll ring you from the airport. Love you," she said quietly smiling. We hugged.

"Love you too Mom. Thank you for everything, we really appreciated your coming."

With a smile, she stepped out on to the porch, following the driver to the big blue van. 

Helping her up the step, he threw her suitcase in the back and then puttered off while I waved goodbye.

Breathing in the crisp cool air which was already beginning to sparkle with sunshine, I felt a little tired. 

I decided to go for a walk. 

I made it two blocks and had to turn around because of the blinding sunshine and the noisy, belching trucks and buses. 

Yes, I was a pansy this morning.

I am also quite certain that I looked silly, seeing as I had donned a summer dress; decided it was too cold for just that, and pulled on scrub pants and a red sweatshirt. 

The result was that my aqua skirt stuck out like a tutu under my t-shirt and hoodie, fluffed over my brown pants. 

The morning air was nice, but not quite delicious...  traces of exhaust mixing in with the smells of spring mud and budding plants.

This morning I was reminded of spring in Oklahoma: Early mornings when the dew from the thunderstorm the night before is still misty, and the smell of sprinklers and moist clay mix with the smell of cool shale in the shade and wet concrete. 

In Vermont, spring smells like mud, cows and melting snow. 

When I think of spring, I largely choose to remember Oklahoma as a kid.

 I remember "helping," my father in the garden and flower beds, getting more peat moss on my person that in the topsoil. 

I remember the brilliant hue of marigolds and their spicy smell. The purple and yellow pansies, nodding in the sunshine. Daffodils and tulips, springy and with bright green stems waving in the light breeze.

I long for spring and summer thunderstorms, for lightening and the cool, wet, slick smell of rain. For the gray and purple afternoons that seep lazily into the night; the hush of evening silenced by the calm and quiet before the storm. 

The prologue to the rain, and the booming thunder and flashing quickening. 
Just before the lights go out and the electricity blinks and stays off, and the beeswax candles come out and light faces with their warm and soothing glow.

Peanut butter and jelly, or pimento cheese sandwiches with iced tea and oatmeal cookies for dinner. 

Spring rushes into summer.....

Lemonade and heat. Sun baking the black tar asphalt and the waves of thermals visible in the roads... the grasses crunching and dry.

The longing for more rains, rains that will save the plains, begins. 

I'm not truly convinced that CO really knows what drought means... beyond fire that is. 

We know fire in CO.

I mean droughts that happen every, single year. Droughts that make families weep, not because of evacuation, which is terrifying in and of itself, but tears shed because the crops are dying. Financial ruin may not be far behind. 

My thoughts will be in the plains and the mountains this summer... I will always do dances...

For rain.

Now, however, spring has finally arrived.

Unless it snows again.

Which I cannot say will make me sad... not really.