In Memoriam Mae Noblitt
By A. R. Ammons
This is just a place:
we go around, distanced,
yearly in a star's
atmosphere, turning
daily into and out of
direct light and
slanting through the
quadrant seasons: deep
space begins at our
heels, nearly rousing
us loose: we look up
or out so high, sight's
silk almost draws us away:
this is just a place:
currents worry themselves
coiled and free in airs
and oceans: water picks
up mineral shadow and
plasm into billions of
designs, frames: trees,
grains, bacteria: but
is love a reality we
made here ourselves--
and grief--did we design
that--or do these,
like currents, whine
in and out among us merely
as we arrive and go:
this is just a place:
the reality we agree with,
that agrees with us,
outbounding this, arrives
to touch, joining with
us from far away:
our home which defines
us is elsewhere but not
so far away we have
forgotten it:
this is just a place.
--------
There is nothing in the world worse than having a child who's in pain. I had the weird sensation yesterday that it was like postpartum depression, the only time in my life I have ever been truly, clinically depressed: intellectually you know it's going to end, there are biological reasons for it and it's just a matter of waiting out a relatively brief period, but the sensation is that it cannot ever end, that something has been profoundly changed and the possibility alone that it could continue indefinitely is enough to make you hate the universe. Anyway, my son's gums appear to be fine -- healing anyway -- and he woke up feeling well enough to go to school, with the biggest complaints being about the taste of the antibiotic rinse and leftover cotton-mouth feeling.
I don't like approaching Rosh Hashanah without some sort of rough plan for the next year. I'm not big on specific resolutions -- swearing I'm going to lose a given number of pounds by a given date has always seemed like an exercise in futility; if I do it, it's not because of a holiday resolution, and if I don't, it only shows that I don't take these things seriously anyway -- but I like to have a really general sense of what I want to look for or work at or scheme to improve. This year the list would be so similar to the last two years that it not only depresses me, it makes me think that deep down I know I don't really want these things or I'd have done them already. I think the changes I want to make are on such a macro level that they scare me, and it's easier to fret at the micro level, oh I should keep the house cleaner and do more freelancing and get more exercise, blah blah blah.
Gosh I'm cheery this morning. *g* Shall spam. The Onion made me howl in a really painful way with this: "Female Athletes Making Great Strides In Attractiveness".
I sort of have a lunch date with my husband to go see Lisa Moscatiello and Rosie Shipley performing for free in Rockville (sorry locals about the lack of a heads-up, I didn't know about it until last night), but it's contingent on weather, his meeting getting out in time and things like that. My in-laws are coming this afternoon for the big Rosh Hashanah dinner with my parents before those who go to evening services head off for them and the rest of us go home to put our kids to bed. Tomorrow we are going out for our annual pre-services pancake breakfast and undoubtedly back to my parents for leftovers after services. Am curious if it counts as a sin to want to take my Palm to services with me in case I have any thoughts I want to write down, and whether ideas for fanfic are by definition not legitimate thoughts for the High Holy Days.
A sequel from yesterday: Poor Gollum; Sirius wants Aragorn.
wants to do it with 
What's Your Ultimate Fandom OTP?
Shiver My Timber--A Pirate RPG
And in my family even the cats play LOTR chess. Look.
No comments:
Post a Comment