Summer?

This woman is sick of thinking about how people make babies.

This baby will someday want
a sea monster for a pet.

These trees look like veins and capillaries.

9:50 PM (1 hour ago)

Seriously, it is a solid 80 right now. Full dark and windows wide open. Oak pollen a fine yellow dust over everything. Like warm light itself, gone to a powdery sort of solid.

And again with the double serve.

I am putting off turning on the big machine, with it’s bloggage (blockage?) and it’s .docx

So, I’m out on the porch, reflecting on a day that was bright and screwy.

Literally ‘screwy’: I built a bench. Not the best bench ever, but definitely a bench. It took about an hour, all told. I wasn’t hurrying. Well, maybe a little. Trying to get as much done in a single day as possible.

Today: wrote short story that – to anyone I’ve spoken to in the past 5 days – is obvious in inspiration. Drew louvred (sp?) door, messed it up. Need to practice drawing on graph paper.

Need to be more formulaic?

Travelled east and then back west with dogs and children. In between directions, sorted wood at my parents’ and borrowed the truck to purchase 1000 lbs. of rocks to dump around the pond. I guess place around the pond – pile around the pond – ? I can only carry one at a time.

I want the effect to be of a very deep and rocky watery hole in the ground. A little spooky, but eventually softened by horsetail equisetum and around the dry edges a riot of sedum. Stonecrop.

And then I built the bench and negotiated several exchanges of information with the pregnant teenager. Arms held wide to hold the whole thing in frame and help me balance some line of extending welcome but refusing to take full responsibility.

I have offered a place, but the place is as yet unwanted. I will not offer again. Worlds are sometimes just too entirely different and apparently old houses are prone to ghosts? The girl will not like the bucket full of antlers I brought home from my parents’ house. My father did not kill the small bucks, they died some death on an island. My father found the bones, brought home the antlers. Years it took to collect this small bucket full of bone white and moss green branches.

I’m not sure what I am going to do with it, but it will likely involve taking pictures of a bucket full of antlers and then scattering them around the house or grouping them as a tabletop centerpiece.

I made two grilled cheese sandwiches and one peanut butter and jelly and cut the crusts off of all three. Ate the 24 (!) small strips for lunch. Delicious. Sliced one pear, very perfect. Reflected on the scent of semen and carrion that emanates from the white-blooming Bradford Pears.

Pheromones.

Unloaded one bookshelf, moved one small table, made dinner (rice, tofu, corn – very monochromatic:( installed bench, fed children, sorted paper pile-up, swept backporch, made slushy out of December’s snow mixed with maraschino cherries, cherry juice, and 1/2 a lime popsicle (Olive and I had made the ‘snowcone’ in Fairview, gathering only the cleanest snow)(later found cup of thawed slushy on back steps, drank it. Too sweet: many jellybeans had been surreptitiously added.

Did dishes a million times, fed dogs+cats+hedgehog, played with Rabbit, reloaded bookcase, made coffee, facilitated sleeping children…ach.

Things I still need to do: draw, plant the blasted peas, finish clearing bookcase purge from dining room floor, shower, update bloggage, write program for inquiry Building program for preschoolers…do the dishes again, clothes in drier cause I haven’t strung the line from the back room porch to the shed: soon, reset clock (again) – many power failures this week, always blinking noon and midnight.

Figure out what can be put off ’til tomorrow?

This picture was taken very near a gravel driveway, in a town far away from the sea.

The world is full of trickery, isn’t it?

This is a wild turkey. Really. It is. They live along Brush Creek Rd.

Sometimes they are wild within fences.

(I don’t know what the duck’s story is.)

Here is the story I wrote this morning.

That girl has got to go. Been out paintin’ houses all damn day and then get home and the woman, girl’s mama, is layin’ up on the couch, wearin’ a sweater. Can you believe that shit? A sweater!
That’s how I know she ain’t done shit all damn day. Got so hot around the eaves today, my back was hotter than hot. Yeah, hotter than hot and those two old scars up by my shoulders were like stove burners. So hot they stung and itched.

And then I get home after stoppin’ off by Uncle’s to sip a beer in his dark living room, smoke a cigarette at the kitchen table. Damn woman’s always sayin’: “you best not be smokin’ round the girl. It ain’t good for the baby!”

“the bay-be” she says it all sweet and white like a pear.

Goddam woman and that goddam girl. Best of the lot, far as I can reckon. Got real good teeth and eyes that ain’t muddy. Goddam.

And then I get in the house and the goddam woman is layin’ up on the couch wearing her goddam sweater and the house is dark and stuffy.

“Hey, Twin…why you all pissed off?”

Shit, I didn’t even know I was pissed off ’til she said that.

“What you got that sweater on for?”

“C’mere bay-be…”

And the way she said it was like the way she talked about that goddam girl and her goddam belly.

I went back to the room and saw the girl back by the washer, that’s where she’s taken to stayin’ – said the t.v. and carryin’ on kept her up.

Kept her up! Can you believe that shit?

She’s only been here ’bout a week, but it seems like a longer time.

faithrhyne@gmail.com

show details 12:18 PM (11 hours ago)

Between Friday and Saturday I drank a whole bottle of vodka.

Girl gave Woman one of her pills and then when the Woman’s face fell all slumped and beat-up lookin’ – that’s how she looks when she’s asleep – the Girl went on back to the wash room, where she’d made herself a little pallet across from the closet. She don’t know there are spiders in there. Big one’s.

House on dark sides of hills always got spiders and this place is full of ’em, but she ain’t been here long enough to notice. Landlord won’t do shit, don’t even both askin’. That’s what I told the Woman when she started up ’bout spiders and the bay-be.

Spiders the least of that baby’s trouble, near as I can see.

Girl’s all hung up on that since she got back to town and the baby’s daddy, some long haired man from Hon-Dur-Ass, took the Girl in for all of a day – a day! – and then… Damn.

What was I saying?

I been out paintin’ houses all goddam day.

****************************************thisissleep………………………………………………………………

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