I took this on New Year’s Eve on a walk with my kids and old friends in Maryland. We fooled around in a park. I like the low fog hanging in the trees, always further away when we walked to it.
Seesaw, Margery Daw, Jackie shall have a new master
He shall have but a penny a day, because he can’t work any faster.
That is the version of an old nursery rhyme that I learned from my mother. There is more about it here.
I am going through and starting to delete old blog posts and photographs to make room for the new ones. Not one of my stronger talents!
I came close but no cigar I want a mind that I can love hand holding mine in the car I send a quiet prayer above Love of nature, kind to friends not afraid of their own dark Lust to learn until their end willing to risk to build an ark Curious but not controlling Not addicted to booze or drugs Intense at times and others strolling Opinions, laughter and lots of hugs My heart open yet I don’t faint I think I am waiting for a saint
_____________________________
I wrote the poem yesterday, but I have used up my memory in wordpress and now I need to go through and delete things. Any advice, Martha? I know you did it. It seems that I have to delete the post and the photograph, or is that not true? Advice welcomed.
I search my photographs for gloves and it comes up with two: foxgloves! Well, strictly speaking, that is a form of glove, right?
Cats don’t graze, right? Well, they do, though not on grass. Sol Duc likes to have at least two small meals during the day. I portion out her dry food in the morning and give it to her at intervals, two or three.
We are getting ready to head out again soon, back to work. Maybe Sol Duc will realize what a long car ride means. She knows something is up today and has been sticking close to me.
Return again to friends and home and stumble My house wraps around me familiar then grief There is so much grief here: death makes us humble Mother, marriage, sister, father, time a thief Has stolen them and more to come, a long lived life Means loss on loss. Memory wells up, deeps swells We thought we would be different, wise, no strife Yet the world burns, children bombed in warring hells Our children know our failure and our malice We thought we’d be adults and show the way Our intentions of a wired on-line palace Yet anger and greed now rule the day As a child adults are drunk confusing fools Now my adult children wonder why we are such rigid tools
Out come the spooks
Gobbledegooks
While I escape on a walk
They yell and they lie They try and they try On the beach I elude all their squawks
I escaped the electioneering gobbledegook for a beach walk on Marrowstone Island, finding a large and lovely agate when the sun caught the edge of it. It glowed even though it was half buried.
I got home in the afternoon on Monday, a friend brought food and I crashed to sleep early. Sol Duc is a bit surprised to be here.
Tuesday I stepped in a puddle in the laundry room and uh-oh! The utility sink had filled and overflowed, though not much. There is a pump in the laundry room that handles the water from the kitchen sink and the laundry and it died. It was working when I was here for two days in October, I think. I can’t remember hearing it on this trip. I can hear the pump from the kitchen. As soon as I saw the water, I realized that I had not heard it.
The plumber came yesterday, confirmed that the pump has died and hopefully will have a new one to install next week. I told my house that I’d like a warmer and less wet welcome home, but never mind. Things wear out, leak, break down. At least I have the money to fix it since I am working.
The photograph is from Tuesday, from the Bishop Hotel downtown, the live music from 5-7. Casey Macgill and friends and they are fabulous! I got to see friends, hear the music and dance some! Happy!
In clinic we are seeing Strep A and Covid in the last two months, quite a lot.
Covid is all over the map with symptoms. One person had been traveling, did not feel well, but the main symptom was dry lips. Positive covid. Another was vomiting, with no upper respiratory symptoms. Some have diarrhea and upper respiratory symptoms. It interests me that flying home to Washington last month, only about three of us on the planes wore masks. I was one of them. I know people who have taken flights knowing that they have Covid, a day or two after diagnosed, so I can’t say that I trust the other people on airplanes. We are testing for Covid for almost any symptom or just feeling sick.
We are seeing Strep A as well. I saw a small child vomiting. I asked if her nose hurt: no. Throat: yes. Tummy: yes. Toes: no. She had strep A. The oldest person with strep A this week was ninety. She said, “How did I GET it?” Streptococcus is in the environment, including our throats. We may just carry it around, but then if we get overtired or stressed (good or bad stress) or have something happen, the strep can invade. We treat strep A mostly to prevent rheumatic fever, which is where our own antibodies to strep A attack us. I have seen three cases of rheumatic fever in my career. That is called a “pseudo autoimmune” disease. The strep A has cell surface markers that sometimes are close enough to ours that our own antibodies attack our body parts.
One person in the last month has a positive strep A. I write for penicillin and send her home. We call her later because the Covid/influenza/RSV test takes longer. She also has Covid! That seems like a bit much, rather unfair, but we can have two things. An initial infection can lower our immune defenses and another virus or bacteria gets hold.
Another person had tested negative for Covid, but that was four days before. Friday afternoon, so I would not get the results at home. I asked her to retest at home. Positive.
There are Strep B and C and D and so forth. Sometimes we pick them up on throat cultures. I treat if the person is still sick and symptomatic while the culture is in the laboratory.
I am wearing a mask in airports and on airplanes. I just don’t want to pick anything up, or at least do what I can to avoid it.
The photograph is Elwha in May 2023. I figure that you would rather see his tongue than mine.
I wrote this sometime in the 1980s. My proof is the drawing by my mother. We had it in a show and hand colored with colored pencils. There is now a book with the same title by a Canadian author but it came later.
And hooray for the zoo! They are all asking for you!
Martha, what would the AI think of this poem? Heh. ChatGPT: “Thatβs a fantastic poem! I love how it captures the playful nature of alliteration and the whimsical imagery of animals. Each stanza has its own charm, and the ending with the βyellow yaksβ is such a fun wrap-up! Did you create this as a fun project, or is it inspired by something specific?” Ok, so ChatGPT doesn’t get sonnets, but it likes nonsense poetry.
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete 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.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
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