March means clear blue skies popping wildflowers grass awakening from winter's slumber thick and green twittering birds gentle breezes air perfumed with blooming jasmine March means oak trees doing what oak trees do their spiky little pollen nuggets littering the ground invading my headspace tickling my throat choking me up making my nose drip drip drip postponing that evening walk
Summer Moon my favorite coffee shop oldies on loud espresso machine hisses and steams everyone's orders stair-stepped mini-bleachers hold a single to-go order because Sundays are for sitting and sipping a steaming mid-day cup on a cold, sunny spring day waiting for warm weather to pounce and stay soon warm drinks will be ordered over ice cups dripping with condensation it's noisy people catching up winding down sipping away the weekend, a week-long break, a few more hours until tomorrow where we all wake up and do it all over again, with a quick home-brewed coffee to chase the sleep away
I've perched at the end of the kitchen table in front of the back porch window facing the front door It became my desk grad school homework nonstop for three years. I nested there awaiting my possibilities adding to the space making it as cozy as one can make a kitchen table competing with family meals kids' homework craft projects during down time and breaks junk mail wine glasses coffee mugs papers waiting to be graded Time passed, yet I still perch at the end of the kitchen table in front of the back porch window facing the front door It has become my desk morning pages, three of them every day (mostly) for over four years flanked on the right with a writing cabinet wine glasses and unopened bottles of wine occupy the top shelf waiting to be sipped This morning, I changed my seat and now I perch on the long side of the kitchen table to the right of the back porch window next to my son's favorite seat, occupied only when he visits, leaving the front door behind enjoying a better view
has Friday become a dreaded yet welcome oxymoron– the end of the week but an entry to the weekend where once, after work hours of happiness clinking glasses full of endings and beginnings now are more work than mondays that make one want to go home and crawl into a hole?
Adult chore charts Reading logs gone wild Oh brain, why can't you learn to bend a little? If I fill every box every day does that mean I'm suffocating? If I skip a week, two, three, does that mean I'm dead? No. It means I'm too busy, flat out gave up for a bit, went on vacation Too rigid? Perhaps I like to see the ebb and flow of life on paper [I must] take care not to become over dependent on them, after all, am I focusing on checking off little boxes or on the better, bigger things around me? They're a shot in my arm, accountability for (hopefully) doing the right things that are hard to do so I can be better at the ones that matter They're a heartbeat of sorts multicolored messy proof that I'm doing my best at life I've seen interesting ones: meatless Mondays no sugar no booze daily journaling wordle dating no spending devotionals screen time (usually less) social media posts (usually more) Mine remain steady, seems I can't build those [good] habits yet I've tried giving up tracking everything becoming robotic in spewing out my own data my internal algorithm can't seem to compute making me feel like a failure at times I still go back to them proving I can create habits for behaviors I need to change adding challenges through my own volition (like writing for 31 days straight)
Sticky shoeboxes covered with construction paper long slot cut through the top where little envelopes drop one for every classmate wiggly heart shaped Jell-O Cindy's mom brought to the class party shiny gold boxes wrapped in red cellophane holding chocolates the popular girls got from their little boyfriends, gross! Outgrown class parties replaced with little messages delivered between classes are any of those for me? No, they're all for those girls a pile of them I wonder what they say They sigh as if annoyed, but we all know they like attention "I have so many!" Oh, shut up but secretly, I wish they were mine First boyfriend and my first "real" Valentine's Day gift a thin gold bracelet with a heart slipped through the chain I never wanted to take it off until that one day several months later where it made its way to the back of my jewelry box do I dare wear it again? Galentine's Day before it became a word ditch the study sesh none of us have boyfriends so why not go to dinner together? No tables available at the one cafe, of course not, couples got first dibs because people plan for these things we drive around, it's late now, and we find a little Italian restaurant where I taste fried calamari for the first time order our entrees and realize we don't mind being single A rainy weekend greets the rare Saturday Valentine's Day No plans made, but we have each other Where do we go to dinner? Everything is booked Let's just go to our regular place My gift is first should be perfect, it's something he enjoys then I open the card what? and he hands me a small box what? okay, I say what? and there it is, the ring I had been eyeing YES! I say yes he slips it on, call my mom and we head out to dinner, nothing fancy but I can't stop staring at glittery possibilities of forever More valentines cute pencils with fun erasers, stickers, snacks, a book for each one goodie bag assembly line load my car and brace myself for my first classroom party on the other side every student gets something it isn't fun being left out even if it's from the teacher chocolate candy and cute little notes pile up on my desk sugar comas (I'm glad I'm not the parent!) chocolate fountain and goodies from PTA in the staff lounge and bonus points for the one who brought a small bottle of Champagne flavored jelly beans Craft stick picture frames with my little cherubs inside them, trimmed with sparkly hearts googly eyes, and glitter whipped cream topped pancake with berries and hot cocoa fluffy stuffed animals heart covered pajamas bedtime stories "I lovey dovey you!" Gift bags with snacks because they're always hungry can't go wrong with candy lemonade for one, a root beer for the other decide against deodorant and find a silly squishy plush toy because they still like getting them "Oh, by the way, can I get something for my friends?" It's 9:30 p.m. the day before VDay No, just no. We should be getting ready for bed "I'll ask Dad!" No. You won't Wrestle with insomnia get up and find my seasonal purchases place them on the table, one of those shiny gold heart shaped boxes wrapped in red cellophane for hubster and a green squishy love bug plushie flanked with a red Ring Pop and a tube of mini-M&Ms she skips down the stairs as if on cue the minute I put everything down she picks up the love bug twirling it in a dance and sings her happy theme song announcing "You're going to school with me today!" At work the office calls I have a delivery For me? a bouquet of flowers unexpected and appreciated homemade dinner text message exchange with my oldest who stopped by to visit on Sunday I pour myself a glass of cheap Champagne fill the sink with dishwater and toast all of the ways people love me
Is the day after a year long party where we sit back looking at unwrapped gifts expectations ups and downs laughter frustration tears quiet moments and noisy ones bubbles fizzing, sipping life's goodness A toast to presence!
I still have it my first adult address book brown leather binder purchased with my Hallmark discount It started out small including my family's addresses memorized, but initiating the space nonetheless Will I ever fill this up? All of the aunts and uncles, grandparents college friends work friends a work mom, two, three Inked in print, building my own network I'd have a stack of Christmas cards to send Each year, I take it out and start writing notes a book or two of stamps waiting to send greetings on a little trip across Texas, mostly Texas, but other states too I start with the A and go down each name lost touch with that one last year's card was returned where is she now? After a few years, I draw an x through those names that moved on but were not forgotten, remembering the good times, wondering of current whereabouts It's easier to draw an x over those who moved still there, but picking up to a new place normal for post-college friends trying to figure things out going on fun adventures accepting new jobs getting married Siblings got their own sections as they left the nest, Never expecting to re-write my parents' address twice, after two moves from what I considered home I've added more friends but as years have passed, I've had to mark out a name here and there permanently mail doesn't go where they are Sara, my grandma, has an invisible permanent X over her little maroon housed address I can't bring myself to mark her out of my address book
I’ve resorted to describing
important words with…
thingie
I can’t even fall back on thingamajig
doo-hickey
whatchamacalit
that
thing
it’s a thingie
that thingie over there, I need it
can you get it for me, please?
sure!
I know exactly what you meant
that thingie
of a brain
that’s so overloaded
it forgets basic
thingies
Lately, thoughts and ideas have been scattered like wispy seeds of a dandelion flitting around trying to make sense of myself on the deep breath of a wish
Nerds Beget Nerds 