Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
SPRING: 18 Bahá (7 April) Weather where I am: 68º and partly cloudy. Weather where my mother lives in Amherst, NY: 46º and rain. Weather in Gabarone, Botswana: 73º on a clear evening. Normal is over-rated. What is normal? Not me! Not SusanL's daughter!! Not Susan . As Susan said, "Normal is over-rated." And not Spring weather. In Botswana it will be daily highs of 80 and lows of 60. Very pleasant weather. Here it will go up and down like a roller-coaster. We are actually praying for rain, GENTLE RAIN. Very dry. Not as bad as the area around Amarillo, Texas where large acreage burned, but still ... May is our rainy month. No rain in Spring and we pay ... dearly. TREASURE OF THE DAY Celebrate. Letlafula. Ululate And let us feast on Bogobe, Lebelebele and logola. Pound seswaa, fry the phane; Bring morogo wa dinawa, Serobe and More bojalwa. exerpt from:
The review I sent: Incredible flow of words. The Setswana makes this enjoyable to read. It would lose much if it were translated. The definitions at the end are great, but one gets the impression that this is a time of joy even without them! The food sounds interesting; although, I may pass on the phane . I'm glad to know there is a Bostwanan on site! Even if you do impersonate a lawyer during the week. Great read and I encourage others to read it as well. Henbit versus Purple Deadnettle: The controversy rages on! Found both growing in the same lawn today. Both have the square stems typical of mints. Henbit has groups of lavender flowers ringed around the stem with deep-cut delicate leaves. Dead nettle has larger heart shaped leaves grouped with the purple flowers at the tips. This is henbit: ____ lllllllllllllllllll l l ________ llll lllllll lll l l l l __________ llll lllllll llll l l l l l l ____________ lllll lllllllll lllll l l l l l l l l This is purple dead nettle: ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ l l l l l l l l l l l l l l Does that settle it? Sketched on Wednesday: Midwifery There was something about the whiteness of that page that irked me. It screamed purity and innocence, as if, the touch of pen would violate virginity, expose invisible ink between blue lines, bring to light the details of a sordid life. As if, the paper had a life, more pure and innocent than babes, who die within the womb, never to speak ill words, commit one sin. ALL, lied within, the whiteness of that page. With the midwife of my pen, I gave it birth. [163.44] Assignment: write an autobiography! Maryam needs to interview me for her project for her Poetry course. To help her I need to write an "autobiography" explaining the influences on my poetry! Should've done this long time ago. No sweat. Gotta get it done by Sunday ! Poor Maryam is ill. Severe back ache. I explained to her that she should talk to her professor if she is still ill on Monday. It's not like she's 18 and went on a beer-blast-binge. She's married, from Kuwait, has children and must be around 30. She also hasn't missed a class. Like I went to all my classes ... . Speaking with old friends. I love new friends. Hey, what would I do without all of you at WDC and all the folks I've met in Oklahoma and Kansas these last three years? Still, it's nice to speak to people who've known you for awhile. Michelle Pastorelli first met me in 1986. She was the secretary at my new job. No sense lying to her how things are; she can smell bullshit from a thousand miles away . I told her I'm okay. And that's the truth. I'm coping, in spite of some situations that are rough. Michelle is very competent. The OFFICE could not have functioned without her. Surely, the managers had no clue. She knew where everything was, knew the staff better than the bosses (you could talk to Michelle!), and was grossly underpaid. She should've made executive secretary wages and we all knew it. Everyone, except the uppity-ups, of course. Still, she does okay. It was good to hear her voice today. A cheerful voice from a time of sadness and troubles. Notes: I write most of my sketches in small 3x5 memo pads. Friends know this and have bought me a few. Today I've finished 1st Hubbard, an orange pad that has lived in my pocket since the First of Spring. Alas, tis full (constipated, I'd guess). Only 48 numbered 'sketches'. But plenty of notes for more. It will join 1st Robin, and 1st and 2nd James. My next book is black and is named 3rd James. I may not write gospels and just a few epistles, but I have pockets full of shit . This blog has 2,275 views when I checked. Awesome how those numbers keep rising like dough left in a warm spot far too long. I can smell the yeast and love it. As for causing trouble . I think I may have stirred up the plot regarding Tor's missing Dirk-the-Duck with my own rumors. Read Nada's or Tor's blogs for updates . |