Black blanket dances
brilliant lights filling the sky
while Moon waits backstage
first under-blanket
morn of fall; pumpkin spice tea
latte in new mug
Specialized motor
gives me fresh legs fit to move
through sand, rocks, and time
sitting in love with
feeding birds; this ladderback
comes to sip nectar
Reading in my bed
Prose and poetry good nights
Sweet dreams on the page
On another note:
In March, Sally shared this template that she uses to record her monthly literacy life. I finally tried it for September, but I let it spill back into the whole summer, since I couldn’t really remember when I finished these books. I’ll need to start listening to some meaningful podcasts and audio books. About that speaking, though, I’m unconvinced.
Sept. 12, 2023 TwoWritingTeachers.orgIt sounded worse than it was, I think.So much greenery and water on the trail, which is unusual for late summer in California.We saw several little waterfalls.Evidence of boulders blasted to make the trail more passable.Panorama image from our picnic spotEpilobium canum (California Fuchsia) – These were such pretty wildflowers dotting the landscapeTahquitz Rock from where we started our hikeTahquitz Rock (on the right) from the highest climb of our hike. Do you believe some people climb that face!?
In other news this week…
¡Lo hice! Aprendí español por ocho cien días. Realmente, 803 hoy!
Last Saturday, I participated in a fun event: The Poetry Marathon. I wrote 24 poems in 24 hours. We were given two optional prompts each hour–a text prompt or a photo. I chose to use one or the other of the prompts each hour. I’m sure I will revisit them, and consider the ones I didn’t try. I posted my Poetry Marathon poems with links to all the prompts here.
Now during the last couple days, I’ve gotten even more inspirational mileage from this event. As I read and comment on poems of other participants, I’m getting more ideas. I modeled this poem for my Slice of Life after a similar one someone wrote. Here’s a taste of my tender week:
Ten for Tenderness
Keith squeezes and says
“I’m holding Denise Reed in
the desert,” then sighs.
I loved meeting sweet, Blessen LaFleur, written by
Margaret Simon
Amber cuts my hair
the soft touch of scissors and
comb makes me tingle
Lori brings a box
of treasures from the sale, things
she knew I would love
Lotion plumps my skin
with “overnight Retinol
therapy” for dryness
The Hilary storm
helped a tall cactus send a
late bloom for the world
Move the couch in place
Popcorn and movie ready
watching in his arms
Funny joke, Milo!
“Jabber, jabber, jabber,” laughs
like a kookaburra
Three meals lovingly
made Saturday while I wrote
Then he did dishes
Sonny comes running
to get his treat then lies down
for a belly rub
“Argh, Lori! Look at the water!” I shouted to my sister, as I ran the noodle pan to the living room to show her the brown gunk that just came out of the tap. We were fixing Thai food for my sister, my brother and his wife on Sunday night. “We got a load of water on Thursday! How can it be out already!?”
Oh, yeah. My sister had warned us that this almost-forty-year-old tank was vulnerable because it was about the same age as a tank that was leaking at one of her houses. We didn’t do anything about it until today, when we were forced to. We were almost finished preparing a six-pot dinner (we definitely would have had a different menu if we knew this was coming), but now we were committed. We all ran out to check the water tank, feeling the side of the tank for the water level. Unlike the usual phenomenon, of the bare metal in the sun being very much hotter than the metal with water behind it, now the whole tank was hot! And empty. My brother left to buy some gallons of drinking water. My sister went and got ten gallons of water for flushing toilets. Then we proceeded with our meal (and games even). Afterwards, I washed a bazillion dishes camping-style, while my husband went to buy and fill some clean five-gallon buckets.
My husband and I were musing about what we would have done if we didn’t live close to these desert rat relative-friends. They have helped us navigate so many difficulties. We probably would have packed up and moved into town many times over the past two years. This time with having the water go out, even with their support, we are still on edge, feeling the vulnerability everyone on the planet feels when water is not easily accessible.
On Monday morning, we called Underground Economy Tank and Supply, who was recommended by the water hauler. Mike said he could bring a new tank out in the afternoon. What? Wow! But we had to put it off for at least a day The former tank, which was metal and now giving us rusty sludge, was set down on gravel. The new plastic tank will need to sit on a smoother surface, like sand.
So Monday evening, my brother came over to help us remove the old tank. He attached it to his truck with a cable and pulled it over pretty easily. I didn’t have my camera out when it toppled over because I was holding my sister’s dog. (The future of that water tank on its side in our yard is still in question.) It was obvious from the rust and pressure on the gravel below that there had been a leak for sometime, which caused a little stream through the gravel.
My sister came to help us haul sand from the intersection where cars get stuck, and we dumped it and leveled it in the frame. Now it’s ready for the new water tank to be delivered in the morning.
Thank you, Water, for your cleansing, life-giving presence.
Our water supply for a few daysDisconnected water lineThe 1985 water tankKeith moved some of the gravel out and around the edges of the pad.The rusting process was working hard throughout the bottom.Can you see how the water moved the gravel under the tank to form a little river of leaking?My sister shoveling sandKeith joining the sand crewWe finished adding the sand by moonlight. After settling for a day, we’ll check it before the new tank arrives.
Lakshmi Bhat at her blog, Mukhamani, recently shared how during a busy time she made time to finish reading a novel. About The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese, she said, “It is one of the best books I have read in recent times.” I wanted a book that I could say the same about, so right away I went to my Libby app and was able to check out the audio book. The 30-hour novel was narrated by the author, who had amazing voices for all his characters–English in all kinds of dialects–Scottish, British, Indian. Some Malayalam too, and probably other languages (I forget). From the beginning, his wonderful voice kept me enthralled, and then I started falling in love with a young bride named Mariamma and her patient and kind husband; and in Part 2, at first I was disappointed to leave the couple in Kerala, but when the story moved to Scotland, I quickly fell in love with a new character, an aspiring surgeon named Digby.
Taking time to listen to the story each day during the last two weeks was a highlight. I would highly recommend The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese. As Oprah said when she chose it for her book club book, “One of the best books I’ve read in my entire life. It’s epic. It’s transportive . . . It was unputdownable!”
I finished the book on Saturday, which was also the day we started watching for Hurricane Hilary (or tropical storm Hilary). She was coming through our area with predictions of up to six inches of rain. (Our annual total rainfall is about eight inches.) We had some thunder, lightning, and showers on Friday evening, then a bit more on Saturday and Sunday morning. We expected it to be crazy winds and rains; I don’t know why we kept watching for it earlier than they said (which was Sunday afternoon), but we did. It was so long in waiting for it, that we began to think it was not going be so bad.
But by Sunday afternoon, just on schedule, the rain poured, and the wind finally blew. (We had battened down the hatches, shored up our little tree, and put everything away that would have blown to the next town.) We lost power for a while. Then we went to bed and slept. The storm passed sometime in the night, and Monday morning was sunny. We had a total of four inches of rain over the weekend. It was quite uneventful, but thankfully the weather service prepared us and we followed the advice and stayed home so we didn’t get in on the flash flooding roads.
Schools were closed on Monday, as there were many roads closed. We took a bike ride later on Monday afternoon. On our bike ride, we saw just one uprooted tree, and lots of sand and dirt covered roads. There wasn’t as much damage in our area as there was in the lower desert, like Palm Springs.
This is where our dirt road joins the highway. The loose sand is usually so thick there at the opening, but this time a lot of it washed across the highway.This is across the highway, the same road, but it’s paved on this side (under that sand).Here is some of the sand that was removed from the paved road and pushed off to the side. (Here we use our plows for sand rather than snow.)This is our dirt road farther up and closer to our house. The dirt roads become rivers during storms and leave us to drive on the dry riverbeds.
An hour in the life of my 13-month-old grand baby this afternoon–
If I Could Talk More
I’d tell you that, yes,
I do want to play ball, and
after that, I want to drop the toy
forks and knives into the narrow slots
on the kitchen set and then I want to throw
balls out of the ball pit. Pick me up now, please,
and take me outside on the swing and don’t
forget to let me scratch off the lichen
from the patio light fixture. I won’t
eat it this time. Then I’d like
to crawl around your bed
again and laugh as
you try to keep me from
going too close to the edge.
Do you want to see how fast I can
crawl? You know, sneezes are about the
funniest thing I ever heard, whether it’s me,
you, or my parents sneezing. What is that funny
noise? I don’t eat that stuff anymore. Now I
just like to eat fruit. I want to listen to
that book you are reading, but I’d rather
move during story time. I like those
times before bedtime when I drink
milk from a bottle. It reminds
me of when I was a baby.
I might be getting
sleepy, Grammy.
After watching our niece play one of Ariel’s mer sisters in The Little Mermaid at The Old Town Temecula Theater on Sunday (it was precious, by the way), we drove home on Monday.
About 45 minutes from home, we decided we needed a break and stopped at Hadley Fruit Orchards in Banning, California. As a child visiting grandma, we made a regular stop here to buy all our raisins, walnuts, almonds, dried apricots–all things fruit and nuts. This is the old building, still on the premises:
Today, Hadley is owned by the Morongo Band of Mission Indians and is located in a new building next to the old one. My grandma used to live on the other side of the highway, within walking distance.
Imagine the scene below without Chipotle, or the parking lot, or the landscaping, or the skyscraper casino. (Or the outlet malls behind me.) That’s what it looked like when I was young. Yesterday I wondered what it would be like if my grandma could be here and see all the changes. That is always fascinating to me to imagine changes over generations.
The inside has changed a lot too. There are still plenty of dried fruits and nuts, but there are also every imaginable snack food and drink and candy and souvenir and so much more. I wanted to buy a dozen different things, but instead…
I just bought a date shake. Everyone needs a date shake when they go to Hadley.
crochet potholders for Karli’s first apartment
pick up tiny yarn bits from the floor
stir the oatmeal on the stove
mix thin set and then grout in perfect ratios
scrape and sling grout into needed crevices
chip at and free the roller from dried-on paint
scrub suet stains off the front porch
photograph beautiful monsoon rainbows
wield tools like:
a tiny thin needle with thread
a power drill turning in a three-inch screw
a knife cutting thick slices of watermelon
a paint brush to reach tiny corners
this keyboard I’m writing on
These hands wear rings–the wedding band for more than 40 years–
and they hold your hand while we watch Jack Ryan before bed
Keith squeezes and says
