A Poem For A Tuesday

Swallows
Leonora Speyer

They dip their wings in the sunset,
They dash against the air
As if to break themselves upon its stillness:
In every movement, too swift to count,
Is a revelry of indecision,
A furtive delight in trees they do not desire
And in grasses that shall not know their weight.

They hover and lean toward the meadow
With little edged cries;
And then,
As if frightened by the earth's nearness,
They seek the high austerity of evening's sky
And swirl into its depth.

Daily Delektables

Will I ever mature past the point of the "delektable" cheap trick? Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway after a few weeks of extra work hours, high stakes meetings (haha high stakes ballet meetings haha), and some serious neck pain that has persisted through it all, I've been seeking "self-care" products. Some to pamper, some to help control the stress, and some to prevent it from building up in the future. 

Jane Gee Aromatherapy Soaps

I'm a tad obsessed with Jane Gee, a natural products shop in Portsmouth that is seriously like a breath of fresh air. It's brimming with bath, beauty and cosmetic goodies and has this absolutely amazing smell when you enter. And that smell is their aromatherapy soaps. The display in the store doesn't hurt either; a sort of soap bar with bars lined up and beautifully packaged in kraft paper with a simple white wrap. Mmm, mmm, mmm. I've tried a bunch since discovering them this fall and my favorites have been the Lemongrass Sage, Oatmeal Milk and Honey, and Grapefruit Orange. This time around I grabbed Garden Mint and Lavender Spearmint. I also picked up a eucalyptus bath bomb which helped soothe those pesky neck knots. You can even order their soaps online.

Q and A a Day: A Five-Year Journal

After discovering my old journal last week, I've been trying to find a way to get back into the habit of journaling. The blog is a helpful tool but there's also something about actually writing (instead of typing) that is a useful outlet. I pulled out a blank book and, well, just stared at it. The pages were overwhelming and I wasn't sure where to start. So naturally, I turned to Amazon. And Amazon delivered! Well, not until Wednesday when they promise to bring me "Q and A a Day: A Five-Year Journal." A simple question a day but each question has the space for five years of answers. So for March 30, 2015 I'd answer "On a scale of 1-10, how happy are you?" then circle back to the same question a year down the road, two years down the road, etc. Could be interesting and I'm hoping the questions provide enough focus to avoid writer's block. I'll let you know how it goes!

Color Me Calm Coloring Book

I guess creativity is soothing. Although it's on backorder right now, I can't wait to get my hands on "Color Me Calm," a collection of 100 coloring templates for meditation and relaxation. Zen! Mandalas! Call me crazy (or 3 years old) but I think coloring would be a nice escape for a bit. I'll let you know how this goes too.

A Poem For A Thursday (That Really Feels Like A Friday)

I'm all sorts of discombobulated this week and have been a day ahead since Monday. Tuesday felt like Wednesday, Wednesday felt like Thursday and I really woke up believing this was it - FRIDAY. Imagine my dismay when I realized there was a whole day to go. Could be worse.

Anyhow this poem has nothing to do with days of the week or silly humans who can't keep things straight. But I did jot it into my journal about 13 years ago and it also popped up earlier this week on The Writer's Almanac. That seems too coincidental not to share it.

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

William Butler Yeats

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Curating

I used to collect chapsticks when I was younger. Mostly Lip Smackers - remember those? At one point I had over 45 flavors ranging from Dr. Pepper to Pina Colada to Candy Cane. There was something so satisfying in selecting new ones and watching the stash grow. Oh to be 10 again.

I have no idea where they all ended up, but yesterday I came across another "stash." I happened to pick up an old journal that covered 2002 to 2012 (egads). I started thumbing through and realized that in addition to yammering on and on about who knows what, I was also collecting poems I liked. They were literally pasted inside the book, scrawled between the lines, or chopped into a tiny piece of paper and wedged inside. It was great to revisit them, reread them, and rediscover why I had pulled them in the first place.

This blog is a poetry curation of sorts too. Instead of hand writing poems into a journal, I've got almost 70 poems stored here. It's kind of neat to scroll through a gathering of things I hand-selected for one reason or another. Lazy man's creativity I guess. It's progress from the Lip Smackers phase...

Spring Has Sprung

HAHAH. That's hysterical. Spring has sprung. Yeah right. Nowhere near here has spring sprung. Maybe spring has sprung a leak but that's about it. It is hideously cold outside with a searing wind and sure, some sun, but it's the kind of sun you can't actually feel because your exposed skin is numb. The worst part? It seems that everywhere else in this country does have spring. I'm seeing photos of flower blossoms and buds on trees and gardening and outdoor activities and tee-shirts. TEE-SHIRTS!

In a few months I'll likely be raving about the heat so I should probably embrace this hell. I'm not going to do it without kicking and screaming though. Meanwhile, the indoor plants are staging a dining room table battle for seasonal supremacy. And my brain matter is somewhere at the bottom of a crusty snow pile.

A Poem For A Thursday

Wild Geese
Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

So often we hear the things that we should be. Should be skinny, should be pretty, should be career-driven, should be happy, should be honest, should be tactful, should be quiet, should be assertive, should be wives, should be moms, should be good. It's nice to let this narrator tell us we don't have to be good, we don't have to do all those things we've been told or all those things we let weigh us down with expectation. Instead we just have to love what we love, do what we do, go where we go. And whatever it is we decide to be, the world is there doing its thing around us, waiting for us to dive in.

Just A Little Moment

Oh I never know what to say and how to say it. I found this little moment with Merwin a few minutes ago. He looks so cozy on his blanket and the flowers make me happy and there is a tiny bit of spring in the air and the sun is out and I can hear the snow melting and it's calm inside and I'm being productive. Made me smile.

Life On The Farm

We're dog sitting our buddies' two pups this weekend. Last night Simon was reading, looked up, and remarked "it's like a farm in here." Apparently, this farm is exhausting for its canine residents because right now they look like they've literally melted into their respective snoozing spots. Real rough life being a hound.

Quick Trip West

We took a relatively spontaneous trip over to Central New York this weekend. My older brother, who lives in Washington State, was on the East Coast for a conference and swung by Syracuse before heading home. We rarely see him so figured it would be a nice opportunity to say hello. His three better quarters weren't with him (his wife and their two cutie pie daughters) but he was plenty entertaining on his own. 

Before we showed up, Jim dug through my parents' 2-3 feet of snow to create some running trails for Merwin in the backyard. The dog loved it! He sort of seems like a little train on the subway tracks.

On Saturday afternoon, we spent our own time out in the snow, traversing some trails at Beaver Lake Nature Center. It was sunny and somehow not bitterly cold so we rented some snowshoes and tromped around the woods. It was my first time on snowshoes and I didn't fall...well, I nearly fell. For some reason, I insisted on holding my leg up for a photo to make it clear I was wearing snowshoes. This was entirely unnecessary (it is easy to see the evidence of snowshoes when they are firmly planted on the ground) and resulted in nearly bringing my bro down with me. Simon captured the incident so my low level of intelligence will be forever documented.