Up the hill

This post was originally written in October 2015.

Wild turkey and deer darted and foraged between the houses, in the gardens and among the trees. 

I took a walking adventure, just heading uphill and moseying along without a plan... Listening to a random variety of music on the iphone, wandering until coming upon a wild grassy field perfect for laying on my back, gazing at the sky, and daydreaming. Such grounding there is in making physical contact with the earth where grass and wild weeds grow. Rested and refreshed, I got up again and walked until my phone battery was dead, and eventually came home. It was four miles.

Rain may fall tonight, in which case dry fields for daydreaming will no longer exist. We do need the rain. But we need daydreams too.

My Other Blogs

I'm trying to figure out how to link my other blogs to this site, so that they will all be accessible in one place. So I'll try it this way.

http://cloverlawn.wordpress.com/

http://cloverinthelawn.blogspot.com/

Altered Book Consciousness

Exposed,

the edge of disaster 

wolves eat dogs

and my shoes keep walking back to you.

Reality charting

family history.

If you loved him

(what’s a father for?)

there is room for you.

The plan:

behaving like adults.

-are we there yet?-

Life studies,

true enough,

nothing but the truth,

nothing to fear.

Used

to believe not to believe

the worst day of my life, so far.

The story of forgetting

this happy place.

All or nothing.

A greater good,

no hidden meanings.

You know better.

Fever, secret life,

the woman in the cloak.

She is me, 

who I was supposed to be.

Crazy woman blues.

How I got to be perfect.

My found friend, Ouende, makes altered books. She posted some photos of the books she has collected, chosen for their titles, and I made this poem out of them. The lines came together in a particular fashion, inspired by a young woman I know in her mid-20s. I bet a whole different poem could be composed of these same titles, with a whole different meaning - if someone had a mind to do such a thing.

Larry Gruman. You inspired us to ponder. For that I am grateful. Rest in peace.

Larry Gruman's Blog

Enthusiasm for "Here on the Edge" by Steve McQuiddy

"... there’s something about talking with the kids, something that resonates beyond sharing a great story. Something vital, that lightens the weight of time. I guess you could call it optimism...."
 /http://hereontheedge.com/2014/05/09/another-great-talk-with-the-next-generation/

Some days have no order to them.

It was an intense day. Music, songs. Unexpected loss. Friends. Strangers. Tears. Love. Prayer. Sky, sun, clouds, smoky fire. A mistake, forgiven. And then another. Some days have no order to them. This day has been like that. 

One marvelous thing leads to another...

March 27, 2014

    I have the habit of looking at photos of people and reading the names underneath, thinking maybe there will be someone I know. And I sometimes find that there is. This time, it was a relative.
    Accidentally discovered, because there was an interesting article in Oregon Quarterly, Winter 2013, about Gordon Gilkey, the man behind the movie “Monuments Men” about saving art work from the Nazis during WWII. And this topic greatly interests me.
    In this issue also was an excerpt from a book about the conscientious objectors in World War II, and there was a photo, and under the photo were names. One of them was Dick Brown. I knew that Mom’s cousin Dick had been a C.O. so I emailed the photo to Mom and she said, “Yes, that’s him.” The book is Here on the Edge by Steve McQuiddy.

    Today I went to Tsunami Bookstore to see if they had a copy of the book, so I could give it to Mom for her birthday. She will be 89 tomorrow. I was carrying my copy of the Oregon Quarterly and when I walked in the door, the girl at the front desk was busy with a guy who looked like he was selling or consigning some books. So I decided to go to the restroom first. When I came out, she was free, so I showed her the article and asked her, “Do you have this book?” She said, “Oh, I was just talking to that guy.” I said, “What guy?” She said the author of the book; he had just dropped off a box of books for them to sell. I said, “Really??? Seriously? That was the guy you were just talking to when I came in?” She said, “Yes.” I said, “Where is he?” She said he was gone; he had just gotten into his car and driven away on his way to the beach for a presentation. I showed her Dick Brown’s picture on the cover, and told her that he was my mom’s cousin. It seemed odd to me, how calm she was, like this was the most common thing in the world to have happen. But I was astonished.
    Maybe that’s why things like this happen to me - because I am continually astonished by them. Yes, I do enjoy the astonishing life.
    She told me that Steve McQuiddy was planning to do a presentation at City Club of Eugene tomorrow, so I bought the book. I guess I’ll go tomorrow, and ask him to sign the copy for Mom.
    So when I got home, I went to Steve McQuiddy’s website and looked around... he is a historian, and he has also written about Opal Whitely. He has fascinating links to fascinating history archival websites. I can get lost in that.


http://hereontheedge.com/