At my desk today in my ROMO (room of my own) even though it’s sunny & pleasant outside & a little cool & windy. Yesterday’s laser treatment forbids me to be out in the sun for two to four days. I plan to take a walk around 6 pm when the UV index is low. In summer I always walk after dark due to heat & humidity (this is New Jersey, after all). The house we live in is nearly 100 years old & along with many other houses (too many), it backs onto a 23 acre park. It’s good to just step out the back door and walk the meandering paths lined with mature trees & backyards created by folks who actually like to garden. Their botanical patches of land show it. I’m envious but not one of them—although I love fresh flowers & herbs. If I decided to try it, as I did years ago, I’d have to deal with the wild rabbits who seem to like our grassy backyard above all others. Some lovely green things that bloomed with small purple flowers were planted a season or two ago & we were thrilled to see them grow healthy, tall & pretty, until one day we noticed they were down to an inch above ground before they disappeared completely. We also noticed a fat rabbit hopping away. Another version of the Mr. & Mrs. McGregor & Peter Rabbit war? (which suddenly makes me feel like baking current buns). We decided to let the rabbits reign. They are cute. And I can buy bouquets of flowers at the supermarket. Especially in winter.
But it’s Spring, nearly end of April (so fast) & it’s been a month of every kind of weather imaginable, except maybe a heat wave, although there was a day or two when it hit the 80’s (also 30’s). Now I’m waiting for May to rescue me.
My books are being shown & are for sale at the cosy new CoZie Cafe in town. I’ll post a photo next time. I love the way it feels to go in there for my skinny vanilla latte & sit for awhile in view of the open bookcase with books from ‘locals’—I guess that’s me. No sales yet, nor do I expect many (any?). I read something recently that stated as a poet you could expect one thing: you will be immune to income. And so it goes. But it’s not about money, right? It’s about doing (we say this to ourselves because no one else wants to hear or believe it). However, I did have a lovely poetry experience last Sunday when we were invited to a friend’s home for Easter. There were other guests, one of whom was a lovely seventeen year old with long auburn hair who writes poems. After a lifetime of living in many interesting places in the world with her family, she has spent the last six months alone with her grandmother on a small farm in Virginia. And she’s writing. Our friend had read one of her poems to us when he visited us a few days before so I looked forward to meeting her & giving her a copy of my new book, There Was Always Enough Time (Nighthawk Press, NM). She was pleased & I saw her snatching quiet moments reading in a corner of the living room as everyone talked & argued whatever the hot topic was at the moment. As the afternoon filled with debates & mimosas & good food, she & I talked a little. When we left she said she asked would I be her mentor. I was touched. I don’t know about the mentor part, but we hope to correspond about poetry via email. Mostly, I suggested, just write, write, write, read, read, read… & it’s okay to write the worst junk in America in our private notebooks (as Natalie Goldberg so famously tells us in workshops and books). Just write….
I’d be pleased if you buy my book (it’s also available on Amazon, book & kindle) & if you like it, please write a review.
