I am preparing the cats to travel a bit. I acquired this foldable framed container. The cats are getting used to it. Elwha has decided it makes a nice hammock platform from which to watch me in the kitchen.
We still have smoke from the fires. Seattle is worse than here. The cats are not out for their daily walks until this clears. I am getting lots of knitting and continuing medical education done.
Yesterday I built a Corsi-Rosenthal cube. I bought a box fan and four MERV-13 filters and duct tape. Tape it all into a cube with the filters facing in and the fan facing out and voila! An air filter for my house. Even though I’ve kept the house closed up, the air has been bad for a week. My house is from 1930 and not tight so there is seepage.
Our native maples are Big Leaf Maple and Vine Maples. There are Red Maples all over town now and they are exquisite and spectacular. Rain is supposed to start this Friday and since we still have bad air quality from the fires in Eastern Washington, I think we will all be glad for rain.
I took this yesterday at Chetzemoka Park. I went to see if the air was ok to beach walk. It was not ok.
The panoramic photograph shows the smoke obscuring the Seattle area and the hazy sun. It is worse there than here but it is not good here either.
I wonder if the trees have trouble breathing too? I am wearing a N95 mask any time I step outside. The cats don’t want to go out right now. They don’t like the smoke.
This is a sunrise, not a sunset, two days ago on Marrowstone Island. The air quality was deteriorating and I am mostly staying indoors today. We are at high particulate matter and high fine particulate matter, coming from the fires to the east. The recommendation is to mask outside, keep windows closed, use an air filter and mask outside. Also to not exercise heavily outside.
It looks sunny out now, but the air looks wrong. Dirty. My lungs don’t like it at all, not surprisingly. I hope people are taking care of themselves. Stay in, take it easy, mask. Our air is supposed to improve tomorrow.
I took this three days ago, watching the sunrise on East Beach, Marrowstone Island. The fires in eastern Washington cause amazing colors. We could really use some rain in Washington, though not too much. The rivers are down, fishing is locked up, because the salmon are stuck in smaller pools and are too vulnerable. Some rain, please, but not those flooding atmospheric rivers?
At any rate, it is gorgeous watching the sky and water turn pink and orange.
This is another poem where I did not know where it was going when I started it. I was thinking about the sea and sirens and singing. My poems go where my heart thinks I should go, but I don’t know where that is until the poem is done. And it’s clearly a song and next I need a tune. And chords. And more practice.
I sing from the sea, from the sea, from the beautiful sea
tied to the mast, you won’t come to me
unplug your ears, unblock your heart before it breaks and truly stops listen to my lonely heart we’ll make music and never part
I sing from the sea, from the sea, from the beautiful sea
hear my voice, listen to me
our hearts melt together like stone
in the depths of my volcano home
you shut your heart down, run away
lava strings like glass, all the way
I sing from the deep, from the deep, from the beautiful deep
small child calling, she still weeps
volcano boiling from ocean floor
new island built as lava roars
small child with faith as adult caves to fear
small child holds your heart dear
I sing from the land, from the land, from the new born land
don’t be afraid, take my hand
hope has feathers, a poet said
in the darkest time, hope is not dead
I morph to dragon, to kite, to bird
your resistance is so absurd
I sing from the air, from the air, from the smoke filled air
vision dark, can’t see where
circle in flight, hope you too
listen to the small child hidden deep in you
a promise is a promise, you know it’s true
I do not give up on you
I sing in the wood, in the wood, in the beautiful wood
five elements sing as all things should
In the wood in the trees
on an island in the sea
in the heart of the volcano
my heart is free
I sing from the sea, from the sea, from the beautiful see no matter what happens, my heart is free
I took the photograph at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, a painting by Shinique Smith.
I am reading Kim Addonizio’s Ordinary Genius, A Guide for the Poet Within, for a class. In the chapter about cliches, she suggests choosing a cliche and playing with it. The first example on her list is “A sudden fear gripped me”, so she inspired this:
A sudden fear gripped me by my nipples I hear my mother: Colder than a witch’s titty Why must the witch’s titties be cold? Must they dance naked even in the bitter winter? Can a witch retire at a certain age Sit warm, clothed, with her cat and tea By a fire with enough fuel for winter? You’d think they’d get pneumonia dancing naked In any weather; yet witches are usually old. Maybe it acts like jumping in to cold water To dance around a Beltane fire; maybe witchery is hot work and they aren’t cold at all. Maybe a witch’s titty is warm all the time And meanwhile the fear is gone, upstaged by titties.
The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is hollow. Hollow, halloween, hollow promises, and hallowed promises. Which is it?
My friend in Michigan was teaching his three children to use a fire extinguisher at Thanksgiving. What a wonderful use for the hollow rotting Halloween pumpkin! They each got a chance to use the fire extinguisher and put out the fire. Emergency preparedness on Thanksgiving Day! That is an example of wonderful parenting as far as I am concerned.
Refugees welcome - Flüchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflüchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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