Sunday, January 17, 2021

Pig and farm report


I took that photo in the morning thinking we’re going to have a storm and that night the wind came up and kept coming up 68 miles per hour I (cowered) in bed watching the young madrona outside my bedroom window bend screeching all the way to the ground then bounce back up then bend down again lashing the deck I could feel my house straining against its moorings as the trees moaned and whirled then a terrific crack as half a hardwood tree snapped off and hit the wall nearest my bed then a huge ripping noise that turned out to be an entire western hemlock unearthing itself and falling on the roof of the two story house at the end of my road all 120 feet of that tree my power went out at 10 pm then on then off then on then off again six times clearly a tree or branch bouncing on a power line then I saw the flashes of light coming out of the ground I thought at first it was lightning but it turned out to be power lines down all over the island on the roads dancing sparking and hissing wild and dangerous all the transformers on the island blew at once all this time Hal was in my bed pacing back and forth until he finally hid under my covers Wolfie and Jupiter were probably under a bed which honestly is where I should have been 

In the morning I pulled on my boots and put a warm sweater on over my nightgown and walked outside to assess the damage (some to my trees none to my house or windows or car) I pulled some giant tree limbs out of the street that would have blocked cars then drove around to see what roads were closed (most of them) I bought some iced coffee at a coffee stand with cash and stopped at the bait & tackle to shoot the shit and buy more water and junk food an island hub of sorts some people had two feet of water in their houses all the grocery stores were closed no cash registers 

Good thing I was a Camp Fire Girl because I was prepared I was ready I had everything I needed including bread and peanut butter and let me tell you I’ve existed on bread and peanut butter food of the gods

I got lucky

Power came back on just as the orange monster was being impeached a second time and that’s all I have to say about him I am finished and finished 

I am so grateful for electricity and running water and this house this solid amazing little house and the wild trees and deep water that surround it

I apologize for all of this being boring but I wanted to mark the day or close to the day of the storm and I lost energy half way through this post because I have a fever and may have caught a cold running around in the early morning wind in my jammies


fever lexicon 1. pistol in my hand pointing down 2. green slippery grass 3. ormolu lamp 4. gold leaf thin 5. tequila 6. lobster on the veranda 7. bibs like giant infants 8. a bad idea flying into that fog  9. without headlamps

Saturday, January 16, 2021

 cat & plush

striped cat
green glance 
tiger cut
said          I do
skirt the cold
tiger patterned
st. happy 
tiger          look
small dots 
on my dress
of cold green
& white
knives the dark
dot dress 
black & broke
I wear green 
broken window
watch-cap &
beethoven full 
glare cold dress 
heat my calves  
the wee plush 
a cat 
two children
times peony 
green dress
my hands          tail
lick the star 
of every beethoven

Monday, January 11, 2021

And angels bake the bread

And angels bake the bread 

The morning her veterinarian woke in her bed he fed her spaghetti smashed the noodles into her mouth lit a candy cigarette after sauce on her white coverlet the vinegar-bleached sheets. There wasn't a fight. She simply wished him empty of music. He was not allowed to tell her how his feet burned how bright steam rose from the dog's bowl. He held her head under water and sang Mahler Saint John has let his little lamb go to the butcher Herod. They watched TV at night drowning. It felt like progress. Life was good under the ginger bell the animal hospital's glowing blue cross.

Sunday, January 10, 2021

Sending out tendrils through the stars

Darklings, I have missed you and now I am finding my way back to written language to writing to poetry after my return to reading in such great gulping swallows and healing myself of the hunger that that particular loss opened in me. Here is my hand seeking in a dark room if you wish to take it. I miss you all but have followed your voices now bringing mine back in. Hello. Hello from the island. Hello.

Francis Ponge

Oh Louvre of language, which may become a home, after the end of the race—perhaps for the other guests, some monkeys for example, or some bird, or some superior being, like the crustacean that substitutes itself for the mollusk in the periwinkle shell. And then, in the twilight of the animals, the wind and the tiny grains of sand slowly penetrate it, while on dry land it still shines and erodes, becoming brilliant as it crumbles, oh sterile immaterial dust, oh brilliant residue, although endlessly tumbled and crushed between cutting blades of the air and the sea. At last! No one is there, nothing can reform the sand, not even glass, and it’s all over.

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Pig and farm report

 Advent poem December 6, 2020

Patty Hearst daughter of the bountiful deities of banks was taken to the underworld changed into her every her and so the earth burst with all the wrong assorted flowers the robbery of color poor Olympians Persephone of the yelling Persephone of the beret and of the rifle on the wordless television the pretty girl with a gun shouted pomegranate! pomegranate! motherfuckers!


I am here present as we said in elementary school I am here but I am reading reading returned to me like a lightning bolt to the brain the day the power went out all over the island and I was alone in the pitch black dark call me if the power goes out my son told me so I called him and said the power is out are you going to come here now with coffees and oats and ropes and batteries or what but nope so I crawled under my covers and started reading Atwood’s The Testaments with a flashlight I read straight through the night then I read Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials all three books and was into the second book before I realized it was a YA novel and I don’t care it was magic then Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower but only halfway through because it was too grim and scary then I read Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore which stunned me now I’m reading Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend I will never take reading for granted not ever again I know it can go out like a flame

I’m back where I was as a young woman when I left the commune inside of words and reluctant to turn on the television or look at a screen reluctant to surround myself in noise

I brought a tree into the house today from a Christmas tree farm ripe and green and pitchy I wrestled it into the stand and tightened the bolts with pliers I have done new things recently I replaced both the air filters on my car under the hood and on the passenger side so I had to figure out how to open the glove box by pressing in on the sides then sliding the connector tube up which involved me getting on my knees on wet leaves but I decided I didn’t want to pay $120 when I had YouTube to guide me like Jesus unfortunately there is no YouTube to tell you how to get a dead wood rat out from under your house but eventually the smell got to me and once again I knelt on the forest floor this time armed with my shop vac heavy gloves a long stick and a pair of barbecue tongs and managed to wrestle it out then fling the poor thing into its foresty grave


I read this tonight in My Brilliant Friend

“We lived in a world in which children and adults were often wounded, blood flowed from the wounds, they festered, and sometimes people died.”

It reminded me of growing up in Spokane

I saw four tiny goats balancing on a round bale of hay I gave myself a YouTube haircut that is not even on both sides but it looks much better and I baked some Japanese milk bread and made old fashioned fudge and now the scent of the tree is waking up everything in my head and my stupid heart


Hello Darklings hello

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

December 1

Green lights zip the sky

I stitched her palm into the palm of my palm needle slung through ho ho I said fat tabby settled her bottom against the bathroom tiles my hands waved in the tub mirrored stitches pulled out a palm with asterisks along its bony spine ha ha I said listen! her heart warbled on a crane twenty and five stories above the city silver under rolling palms hee hee I said as the sky zipped open the greeny green of her reflection

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Pig and farm report


I woke up at 5 AM and was very still in my bed listening to a huge wind storm which has already lost me power twice this morning and rattled my house's bones thinking nothing hurts nothing hurts for what seemed like a long stretch of time then I heard Hal or Jupiter acking up a hairball. Ahh nature's beauty. Did Emily Dickinson have cats? I don't think so maybe her famous hounds but I very much doubt they slept in her bed. They were wealthy Amherst hounds that lounged under the table gulping down entire platters full of duck a l'orange and slurping port and farting. But cats are not accustomed to all that twee. I doubt Emily ever woke to a windstorm got up to wobble to the loo and stepped in a giant slimy hairball cursing under her breath in her hyphenated way There's a certain Slant of light, Winter mornings -- that OH FUCK WHAT WAS THAT!?!?! You damned cat come back here now we need to have words where was I? Oh yes That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral WHAT? ANOTHER ONE? JESUS STOP EATING MY HAIR RIBBONS YOU LITTLE SHIT. 

I am flat flat flat as a 12th century map. There be dragons. I feel loopy and slightly hungover though I did not partake yesterday or last night though I danced alone in my flickering outer outer room. Here comes the wind again in swells and waves it is just incredible I do love rude weather and I always have. I need to be quiet for a while and listen.

Saturday, November 7, 2020

💥 🎇 🧨

I made a celebratory babka. And once my face stops leaking I want to talk about Dr. Biden’s utterly fantastic dress and I cannot wait until Joe rips down the three layer fence the baboon anus has erected around the White House and Dr. Biden brings a sense of style and grace back to the place. Boy Joe’s speech was a real barn burner. 


Monday, October 26, 2020


my aged cat never left my side ever I slept on feathers crossed my Ts clean as a fishwife the moment in which he rose up hallelujah I was not afraid of solitude but reckless pursuit neckties guns in the temple the low dome last week’s rent drew out the lining the ache in my side that proved resolve men rode motorcycles up and down the street pounded my door demanded open up demanded money as Russian girls in the cafeteria argued over the napkin dispensers cooed like release doves lacking a center I’m not nostalgic for the parasite the waterworm there is nothing left to talk about apples and sandwiches stuffed with fruit the mokrie dela disappeared from automats turn and slide the plastic door or the washateria the Laundra in Newport Loadstar Dryers coin tumble orbiting sensors in my bed gossiping bodies at night target practice on Thursdays in Dallas go ahead go ahead now tell me about the white capped angel of terror and desire

Friday, October 16, 2020

Pig and farm report


That’s a thing that happened I voted with my son and he took a picture of me putting my ballot in the box and when I looked at it I was astounded to see a great froth of pure white hair where my bangs used to be a tsunami of white it seems the only time I’ve looked at myself is when I’m making sure a mask fits in my rear view mirror 

two nights ago I dreamed about Obama he was just here warm and intelligent and comforting like a good father I see this as a sign 

I am going on as usual got an elder flu shot changed the filter in my furnace replaced the propane heater thermostat with a very fancy and very expensive remote control thermostat there is really nothing to report in this report I am in no mood to humble brag about these things or my daily climbs on the trails in the state park or my gourdy garden or my fabulous cooking mostly I am keeping watch I am keeping watch and keeping my head down I am ticking down the clock and growing out my white white bangs hello hello from in here

Wednesday, October 14, 2020


Leaving this here to wake up my blog I apologize if the fake hacker jumped from my posts to your email apparently if you close the door for more than seven days they break in happy October

Saturday, September 19, 2020

Pig and farm report


this morning I was finally able to go outside and breathe I stood on the front porch and inhaled the scent of rain soaked forest then I went out to the deck to take that photo of a sugar maple in my yard I opened all the windows in the house put the screens in then drove to the beach there is some stuff going on with my mental health that I am not ready to write about here and so I am stopped from writing anything at all for now last night I dreamed of a giant cabbage and women with weary intelligent eyes and huge dogs I am okay but not okay I will be okay just checking in here to say hello hello

Friday, September 18, 2020

Ruth Bader Ginsberg

Bone Lullaby

Cante la arena blanca,
sal rota sobre la playa, 
corazón del delfín
montando su onda lisa
en la noche.

Cante los huesos, 
la cáscara quebrada. 
Cocos hablan en le voz del Dios,
derramar la leche al mar.

Monday, September 14, 2020

Pig and farm report


I’ve been having a panic attack all day a panic attack for ten straight hours it’s a real doozy it is medium dark all the time now like a deep summer night in Alaska my son strapped two of his many bungee cords to my fan for a makeshift air filter it rained for a few minutes but it didn’t change the air quality index this is one whiny post

Sunday, September 13, 2020

Pig and farm report

the sky is brown full of smoke ash tar creosote and whatever else trees exhale as they burn as they die that picture is not current I just put it there because it is a portal I only stepped outside once yesterday to grab the CSA box from the porch and I held my breath while doing so no baking no frying no vacuuming (not that I was going to vacuum) and no running the dryer we are quiet inside both of us with raging headaches the house full of invisible smoke waiting for rain there are no birds flying or hopping around no birdsong the leaves on my rhododendrons are drooping my trees cast their eyes to the south toward Seattle and Portland which is now on alert to evacuate half a million people that amazing green place burning burning with an administration that has been steadily and quietly rolling back environmental protections an administration that does not believe in science an administration that disregards the entire west coast because our governors would not stoop to kiss the nasty man’s ring

my son is here because the fires were raging toward his orchard which isn’t really much of an an orchard anymore but acres and acres of lush green land in the Okanogan Valley because his dad refused to spray his trees with chemicals and the surrounding orchard owners complained because if Jim’s trees got infested then it could spread so he removed most of his fruit trees and sold a lot of his land and became very very rich I completely fell off the track in this paragraph 

but behold! all is not bleak! last night wee feral cat Hal caught his first mouse and jumped up on my bed with it crunched between his pointy feral teeth (not carrying it neatly by its tail singing a kill song as Jupiter does) I quickly dispatched the mouse into the forest and commenced giving Hal highest praise and catnip and strokes and thanks for his brilliant gift there hasn’t been a mouse in the house for over a year I’m sure it was just seeking sanctuary the second goodness is that two days ago I started to read again finally I read Iain Reid’s I’m Thinking of Ending Things after watching Charlie Kaufman’s brilliant film based on the book because I was so intrigued and mesmerized by the film (on Netflix highly recommended) and yesterday I read halfway through Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments I read the way I’ve read my entire life nonstop lost enthralled and happy like there had never been a long stretch of time where reading left me my most beloved portal

after I eat my egg this morning I’m diving right back in but with even more love for the art of reading now that I know such a gift can be lost to me

I hope you are safe wherever you are

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Pig and farm report

tomorrow I see the doctor not for anything special except for the billion diseases and maladies I’ve imagined for myself since my bloodwork plus a very real case of what might be ringworm which I have not had since I was a very small child but this quacks like a duck and if it is what I suspect it is then it came directly from my friendly neighborhood veterinarian and the whole idea of it causes me terrible stress and dreams of my brother and needles 

mockingbird wish me luck

 On Tour with The Billy Tipton Saxophone Quartet

A woman walked toward me stuck her fingers in her eyes to avoid looking at me it’s like playing piano she said (that easy) like playing Bach she said (that easy) or running with a broken champagne flute in your mouth easypeasy she said. I rubbed the hairy wen on my left wrist. It pained me to think of his constricted chest the muscle pull yet I would gleefully take hot tongs to his tongue nothing worse than feeling duped than waking up to cold meat and beer. The Portuguese boy in the cigarette factory lopped off his thumb he said I’m no performing monkey when the ambulance drove away lights pulsing as cuckoo-shrikes rose from the mud to announce their lack of water. Darfur water conflict. Tibet water conflict. Sudan water conflict. Water stressed countries. The next day I discovered a velvet bag in a chicken pot pie. I was not the best hostess. I had to play Snow White in Port Townsend that night. I wore paper slippers the blue and yellow dress my skin white as an egg. I rode the ferry first car at the prow. I let down the chain let down the wedges at my front wheels let down my pinched bodice let down my windows and slid into the Pacific Ocean.

Sunday, September 6, 2020

Pig and farm report

I kept busy today but my brain refuses facts refuses the fog that feels like cotton refuses the noise the muted hum of a typical Sunday with its repeated news and its weird 

yesterday I was inflicted with a terrible kind of self pity that led to me to wandering the house Ophelia-like in my white nightgown and also eating six or seven meals I lost count not big meals I had a huge salad at one point then I had a half a cup of brown rice with broccoli tossed in then I had three baby bok choy that I sautéed then later I had a huge soft pretzel on a bee plate and much later still I had two corn tortillas with butter and pretty soon I started to feel like crap and I still feel like crap I think it began with me trying to make my own iced coffee and I'm still not sure how much coffee I drank inside my experiment but I couldn't sleep last night I dreamed I found a huge U shaped bright orange pumpkin with octopus tentacles wriggling around the tentacles were grabbing at me and I was grabbing them and they were slimy 

I was making pretzels and when I pulled my hands out of the dough they looked like hooves and I was a disgusted with myself I felt like my life had just opened its eye I felt pain in my back and the weight of writing from a place of meaty violence the wolf world holds me in its wet soft mouth I worry that I might be the last person to believe the plague is behind us I might be the last person to leave my house into normal into the after I seem so much more worried than everyone else barely fledged and now carried into another season foolish and sentimental 

if I am reading one paragraph at a time does it still count as reading? I read this fantastic work in the Yale Review by Dana Levin not a long piece but it too held me in its teeth and took me two hours I am so glad I finished reading it’s deeply moving my difficulty with reading right now breaks me I feel not here like a forklift ran over my jello brain in an underground parking lot like my soul is a ghost limb begging for a scratch not being able to read refuses blood and butter salt and honey I chide myself for it here but believe me it is the worst punishment my brain could have concocted for me it is not a joke but I have to hush now Ophelia is back knocking like a hungry wasp on my screen

there is the little house in the tree I took this picture by hiding myself on a side street in plain sight you can see the little white picket fence they’re building and the basketball hoop attached to the stairs I feel pretty sure this place holds deep magik like carnivals and Florida and rivers

my son has asked me three times now if we’re going to have a Christmas tree this year and I assure him yes each time and that’s all I know of the future that question and its exclaimed answer but will I be last to go into the green?

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Owls video attempt #4

All the Montanas live in me

 Counting figs and wasps

I followed your dither through the maximum amount of Christs and a small helplessness to see how things looked after the dustup my day-glo dress yielded a razor and a couple on a sidewalk near a pub in Chicago 1947 held hands she hummed he frantically searched his pockets there were holes in the wall of his belly I insisted beyond names until the day we woke the rats and elk in the clearing startled up their flanky desire

Thursday, September 3, 2020

Pig and farm report

today I stabbed the lid of a Tupperware container with the tip of my big butcher knife because I couldn’t pry it off

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Pig and farm report

I feel equal parts energetic and rebecca-small-r tragic yesterday I baked this delicious and amazing loaf of bread stuffed with gruyere cheese roasted tomatoes and basil from my garden today I swapped out my spring duvet cover for my winter duvet cover then I paid my property taxes which were not due until Halloween actually on Halloween which is altogether hinky but I kept thinking about the enormous sum of it the Halloween of it the power of the receipt in my hidey place kept creeping up on me and I’d worry worry worry and so I just did it I paid online early then I bought myself a pair of bright red boots they’re good for navigating out here and that’s pretty much all I wear now boots in the winter surfer flip flops in the summer the rebecca-small-r tragic part is me feeling like I should be a super woman who can read a pattern and sew a mask sew ten or twenty masks! sew 40,000 masks! masks for everyone! but I can’t even read a book these days and when I look at a pattern the lines and measurements swim across the paper or website or page in a distressing way and I refuse to explain myself further or be shamed by my lack because fuck it look at this biscuit light loaf of deliciousness that I baked and I paid my property taxes like a grown up and also no one can rock a pair of red boots like I can

I have been tending to Hal’s cold by locking him in the bathroom with me for twenty minutes twice a day with the shower going full blast hot and the fan off so we both get the benefits of a sauna me for my girly complexion Hal for his crusty boogers I also attempt to smear erythromycin ointment into his literal eyeball which is enflamed and trust me he is still very feral when it comes to having anybody poke around in his eyeball and I am too I’m taking him to our covid free vet Friday which means stuffing him into his wee crate then waiting in my car in the vet’s parking lot as they check him out inside their office I am okay with this arrangement because I have not forgot last January when after wrangling Wolfie to the hot vet office I fainted right there on the goddamn floor like a Victorian spinster though I did not fall I just sat on a chair quickly then sloped onto the floor Hal is a little better today he has been howling for attention and he ate mightily and he “helped” me swap out my duvet covers but he surely does look like a drunk little pirate with his sneezes and his wonky eyeball 

this morning I met this basketball sized wasp nest hanging from a slender madrona branch behind my house hello I said to the many many very busy wasps while slowly backing away from the nest there is no way I’m crawling all the way up a ladder at night in the pitch black woods to contain them while they sleep nope we have agreed to live together peacefully yay nature

I spied a tiny house in a tree near the beach not a treehouse and yet a treehouse all the same with windows with lacy curtains and a proper pointed roof and power and a tiny tiny yard with weird small playground toys in it now I go there every day and just stare at it as it is fabulous beyond belief I can tell someone is living there so no picture but still I keep staring as I pass because it is pure magic

Sunday, August 30, 2020

Happy Birthday Summer’s End

four years ago today I went to the elderly escrow lady and signed the papers to become an actual house owner the first line on the many pages of documents read 


and then fourteen thousand pages of signatures

it struck me as weird since it had been so long since I had been a married person still there I was a completely alone human woman with a chonky inheritance ready to buy a house all by myself but questionable because I didn’t have a man a husband a helpmate someone to bring home the bacon a breadwinner a spouse a partner a childhood sweetheart a sugar a honey a king a prince a lover boy a bae a main squeeze an old man a hubby a mate a paramour a better half a significant other a lord and master a helpmate a bedmate a groom or a man of the house there I was manless and therefore somehow wrong somehow lacking

the elderly escrow lady peered up at me like I was trying to pull a heist but I finished signing all the papers then asked if I could keep her pen

I have not stopped loving this house since I moved in not one single time not even when Alice cringed and said I didn’t think it would be so rustic I love my huge kitchen with its walk in closet pantry I love my master bathroom with its slate walls and cedar ceiling I love my outer outer room and my library I love every tree in my wood and I love my proximity to Desolation Sound and Port Susan and the Salish Sea

I had a terrible nightmare that left me drenched in sweat when I woke a ptsd dream Hal has a cold so two times a day I trick him into my bathroom with wet food then shut the door so we both have a sauna he isn’t happy about it but it is good in fact for both of us

I’m making pico de gallo peppers and red heart tomatoes and onion and cilantro and far too much lime juice for most people that’s it for me chopping vegetables and herbs and listening to Elementary on the telly not following along but hearing Jonny Lee Miller’s voice is a whole mood for me that and the forest the beach. 


Friday, August 28, 2020

Pig and farm report

early this morning I was awakened by howling and screeching screams that I thought at first was a pack of monkeys being murdered by coyotes in my back yard I used to live near the Woodland Park Zoo and I have personal experience with howler monkeys 

I woke up Page so he could hear it too and filmed it with my phone at the same time though it was pitch black out there Page thought it was Bigfoot but this is no surprise since this summer we both saw bear scat in the yard and immediately thought cow

the howling went on for a good 30 minutes and I eventually figured out it was two owls mating and sent the video to Mary Moon She Who Holds Knowledge of All Things and she assured me that indeed those were owls having wild owl sex practically on my deck possibly right below my bedroom window

Mary I apologize for waking you so early but damn woman, nature, right?

August 28, 2020

I’m watching the march on Washington D.C. on the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.’s I have a dream speech delivered from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963

George Floyd’s brother Philonise spoke surrounded by his family and I watched him rub his brow and bow his head down deeply and I knew he was having a panic attack as the crowd surged in on him I knew it as clearly as I know my own name I thought he was going to faint but they got him out of there and my son said he was being held up by the ghosts of King and Malcom X and Gandhi  Muhammad Ali and Medger Evers and Rosa Parks

I give my tears to the dead today I give my water to the dead

Thursday, August 27, 2020

Pig and farm report

I bought some authentic real grits (not that mealy west coast crap) from the company Southern Queen whose incredible logo is right up there a Black owned business with an amazing product which I will be having this weekend along with honest to bog collards curtesy of my CSA box

tonight the Mets and the Marlins met on the ball field facing each other in two lines removed their caps bowed their heads in silence for 42 seconds then waved to each other with their ball caps and walked off the field leaving nothing but a Black Lives Matter tee shirt on home plate having canceled the game and this finally is the thing that triggered my tears that now fall freely under my fingers as I type after days of stuffing those tears back into my head as I’ve watched the news in horror holding my head up in the air so the tears would not fall out but baseball is my game and this is the image that broke me

we witnessed yet another young Black man gunned down in front of his own children by police in Kenosha

a 17 year old maga proudboy shooter killed two people and wounded a third during a protest in the same city then walked away past several police officers saying what he had done admitting what he had done bragging about what he had done and the police told him to go home which he did before turning himself in later

murders ordered by king donald 

Riot Kitchen an organization that offers hot vegetarian meals to protestors across the US an organization I have been supporting had their crew members grabbed from the street and thrown in black unmarked cars in Kenosha last night and now they are disappeared

all they were doing was feeding people

Feed my sheep

those are their blond blue eyed baby boy Jesus’s supposed last words on earth

Feed my sheep

no one can find them who took them police? FBI? NSA? all the american president’s gestapo

Jacob Blake the man who was shot repeatedly in the back by police remains handcuffed to his hospital bed paralyzed from the waist down

why is he shackled?

I have a feeling of dread about the republican convention tonight in what used to be the rose garden a garden I stood in as a girl with my uncle 

something wicked this way comes

this week I successfully took myself to the clinic for necessary blood tests to keep my psych meds alive in my brain then fell up my porch step onto my stomach bruising my entire left side after I had successfully driven myself home the top of my left foot absorbed most of the damage and is now black and blue and swollen like a weird squash and it hurts like a motherfucker but I’ve mostly been keeping it up and iced

my left foot has absorbed most of the damage of my entire life now that I think on it and when you damage your foot you pretty much think on it  

a lot 

my favorite word for 2020 so far is problematic 

my left foot has been problematic since I was a girl 

I’m still going to the beach every day I saw a hawk knock a raven out of the air I saw a great blue heron standing in a culvert just inches from where I stood I watched a two year old girl walk with her mother on the lee side of the island this morning the child was wearing a bright pink gauzy shawl that was at least five feet long and it furled out behind her in an amazing wave I finally moved my tiny belongings out of my gray winter purse into my spring purse which is pink and has a sixties boxy look I was saving it until after covid but here we are I began a skin care routine with a fancy cleanser then masque then cream then lip exfoliant but I gave it up in one day the gladiolus are finished drooping their long stalks with one determined flower hanging onto the ends of each one with ridiculous hope the dahlias are up the bullfrogs sing in the marshlands behind my house my son is still here but he is leaving Saturday going to the city then to his orchard we talk about politics and art and memory and music my son is brilliant and his thoughts constantly keep me thinking we talked this morning about how our brains grow rigid if they are not used we think this is what happened to Terrible America its denizens grown rigid and stupid

I can’t practice Bach because when I play my violin I keep my right foot in front of me and my left foot behind me then I move my body using my left rear foot as a propeller launching me almost out of my chair at times something that used to disturb The Jackal my prize student’s mother all that moving around she’d say the queen of judgment and I’d beg her to go see the symphony for herself so she could see that I was not broken

ps. I teach my students to sit with both feet in front of them planted firmly on the floor

I wanted to write about woodpeckers how their tongues practically curl around their brains and about penguins’s terrifying sort of teeth these creatures are not at all disneyfied but instead I’ll confess that my terraria my science projects are all over the place now at different stages of growth and decay fecundity and death and according to my son are problematic but I think I’m done with nature at least for tonight

Saturday, August 22, 2020



this morning I baked that completely fucked up pan of brownies and that’s my day so far though all this is saved by the fact that I saw two blonde llamas just chilling in the back of a truck at the beach the other day

last night I dreamed of a plane crash in the sky above my yard at first one white sneaker fell then another then more white sneakers fell faster then part of the wing came crashing down and the survivors were on my porch asking to come in asking for water asking to use the bathroom asking for help I used to work on the wiring inside those airplane wings with Alice I know exactly what they look like Alice are you here are you the wing burned and burned near my fig tree among all those white sneakers my name is on every single wing I ever tied and crimped the wire bundles for my name goes into the sky every time one of those planes flies and when they crash the people who inspect the crash sites know who wired the plane but they never tell because the knowing would be too much to bear 

Friday, August 21, 2020

Pig and farm report


my right hand hurts because tendinitis has gripped my first two fingers the fingers in my bow hand my right hand hurts because I have been practicing Bach my right hand hurts because I am anxious my right hand hurts from pulling weeds and kneading bread my right hand hurts because I have been driving so much and I'm gripping the goddamn steering wheel like I'm about to be raptured and I'm not right with jesus I have not treated my hands as precious babies throughout my life they are pretty beat up

I go to the beach every day I watch the beach for hours I am not in a hurry with it I have distributed the silk sheet I have rinsed my hair in a tide pool I know which seabirds will be standing in the mudflats I know how barnacles stink in the sun I know what the tides are I have read and memorized the tide tables I have culled and given away the sea in my head I have considered how long it takes wounds to heal 

sometimes my son feels like my jailer everything wobbles and is in flux especially time during covid I am at 37% or 10% or perhaps 22% I cannot function after a few days of rain last week or two weeks ago or last week or yesterday I realized it was autumn as firmly as a handshake as riotous and alarming as a sneeze or a white boy high five never high five me my right hand hurts from high fives my brain hurts from high fives there will be no more high fives I love my son who takes care of me and he never tries to high five me and I am so glad and so lucky that he's here

autumn moved in and the entire planet shifted and I felt the shift this is not crazy old lady talk I felt the shift in my bones it was a few days before I woke and smelled campfire smoke from the state park come in through my bedroom window early in the morning the campfire smoke took root in my hair and stayed and it rained another day and six trees at the beach gave up their root balls and crashed blocking the road today it is windy a wind storm and I have a plan to make enchiladas and I should get to it but I have misgivings about starting a cooking project when the wind is high and trees are going to tree heaven just eight miles away and I lose power out here so frequently

my son's truck is fixed for now and it cost me a pretty hunk of change and it cost him a pretty hunk of change it cost all of us but I feel it the most because I have so very recently been dirt poor and I still think in my wobbly brain like a dirt poor person it is not that far behind me just four years behind me I worried about all the money it would take to fix my son's truck I worried that I would become poor again even though I own this house and have a pantry full of food and a bed that won't fall through the floor and working electronic toys and a car I rarely drive any more except to the beach and the state park gripping the steering wheel like I'm about to be raptured

that picture up there is from the only sleepover I ever had or attended as a girl as a leggy wild eyed girl with my friend Elena Benoit who I remember because not only did she attend my only sleepover but she and I read the entire school library in the third grade including dictionaries and encyclopedias this was a pact we agreed on and kept already that sleepover at my mother's terrible house looks dangerous and unsupervised what was happening what I tried to crop the photo and because I am typing on my pc because my right hand hurts too much to hold my ipad and type with one finger as I usually do the crappy cropping mechanics combined with my lack of skill made the photo too dark but I have the original and maybe darkness is required to see myself here my leggy wild eyed girl self with one friend and a lot of books my right hand hurts and my hair smells like campfire smoke and I am not okay this morning I am still a wild eyed girl twirling in a bright blue dress with a belled skirt

all I have done so far today is wonder why my heart keeps pounding like a horse inside me and make a roux and smell my wood smoke campfire hair swirl around my head and even though I know what a roux is what a roux is meant to do* I am still impressed when I make a roux and its thick magic happens every single time and now all the things are happening at once the enchilada sauce is cooking the lights are flickering I am writing to beat the wind and to apologize to myself for not writing here every day so it isn't such a shock to find out I can still do it

my right hand hurts because I went too long without practicing Bach and thought I could dive right in even though I know better and my writing practice here suffers and I suffer because writing feels lost but Bach felt lost until I rosined up my bow and got to it

mastery of practice is mastery of art I know this deep down in my leggy wild eyed self I taught this to all my students both writing and violin for years and here I am twirling in my blue summer dress and pulling weeds and listening to the news though this dress is a bell and when I twirl the skirt balloons out like a Sufi dancer and my whole head is holy and fills with smoke and air

I am at 37% or 10% perhaps 22% not in my right mind though I am neither depressed nor manic I watch too much television news I worry about the post office I am distraught over what is happening the past three years to our very basic freedoms I worry about women of child bearing age who might need an abortion or a divorce or a vote if the republican party gets another four years I am fucking worried and we should all be

I feel a little bit crazy but not actually crazy you don't have to be the Kleenix Lady who rushes over when I start to cry at an AA meeting or a doctor's office or any public space because you want me to stop you want to stopper me to throw a blanket over my whole messed up life to stop me from howling to stop my animal grief to stop me from becoming fully my animal self as my terrible family destined me to be I might go into survival mode in a ball on the floor today but it's okay you don't have to be the Kleenix Lady instead join me in keening and howling join me in the best ever cure

I am so glad the days are getting shorter


*I know what a roux is meant to do might be a Johnny Mercer song but it is not and he's dead so he can't have it though honestly he should have thought of it living in the south as he did

Saturday, August 15, 2020


my six strand braided challah is the same burnished color as my old mahogany Franklin upright piano

Pig and farm report

Caveat : both of the links I tried to make for this post are broken but I’m to blarghhh to fix them

I rescued this coleus last year I put one of them outside when I gave up on it because its leaves were falling off and I stuck the other in the window with my Christmas cactus and weird mushroomy orchid where it not only thrives but is now flowering all they needed was for me to stop loving so hard on them clearly this beauty prefers being ignored I didn’t take a pic of the flowering one it’s much more private but this one on the deck greets my coffee and me every morning and we have a little chat and I promise not to touch it not to maul it with my sad human love

here is the peperomia watermelon that I planted to root on June six in the plant hospital of my kitchen the upright leaf hasn’t done much yet but the bigger leaf that slipped down flat sent strong roots out from its bottom and now you can see a baby leaf finally poking up behind it and if I gently lift the adult leaf I can see that baby leaf is coming up with his whole family mom dad the twins the four cats and two dogs grandpa and grandma and the three aunties

not only are these gorgeous plants when they grow up they’re fascinating to watch as long as you don’t mind slowing down and who among us has not slowed down 

here are more pictures but they’re none of them very interesting because I made my brain shut off after a big week of finding out my kid needs two new catalytic converters and two new headers on his truck very pricey stuff over two thousand so his dad and I pitched in to help with half the bill on account of the kid hauls our sorry asses all over the place I took a drive out the old highway to Mount Vernon past the tasseled corn fields in a crazy black storm sky and bought figs at the Co-op and bought a burrito and stood in the Skagit River with my skirts tucked up as we who stand in rivers know how to do 

here are some pink plants I love I am sorry poetry has fled my brain my kid with a broken truck is here so very much so very very much and he wanders in from his half of the house to put the news in my ear in both my ears every few minutes even though I look at him and feel my eyebulbs glaze over plus he wants to drive my car and I let him but I am not comfortable with it 

the last picture is that ginger I planted going berserker behind it my grand attar of rose geranium behind that my pyramid lamp that I bought years ago in Port Townsend my metal Yellow Submarine that the Beatles still pop out of and my Read Hard cup on my desk

I took my library books back I called and canceled LegalZoom’s free legal aid for only 14.99 per month taken directly from your checking account call and cancel any time within the next 14 days! I have my will in hand ready to be notarized I scrubbed my toilets I wandered around in my yard eating blueberries I saw that Figgy Pudding has finally branched up and out so now she is three trunks strong I put away my laundry and I bought some cheechee face stuff something called a moon mask for hydration and some lipstick I love buying makeup and girlie crap almost as much as I love buying books I always have the cheechee-er the better even though I rarely wear it but my face has become very tender where the masks cover it I swap out different masks for different days and use the paper blue masks when I’m caught by surprise (they really hurt) 

I just braided a six strand challah that’s in the oven rising my brain is stupid but my heart is AOkay I took that eagle picture from inside my car this morning it was cool but sunny we had a few days of rain then it was autumn I felt it so strong a shift in the earth’s crust the fragrance of the forest swinging wide and I feel it every morning when I wake up and the owls feel it too their morning and evening calls deeper and closer now as if they’re packing up their camping gear and heading back to their wild nest in my giant hemlock tree we will have a couple warm days but summer is over

Save The USPS (postcard)

 I am not a believer but I suspect he pretends to be like the rest of them so I wrote upward 

Fight the power

There is a letter writing campaign happening now in America I sent him a postcard this morning I suggest you to do the same

Louis Dejoy

806 Country Club Road

Greensboro N.C.


Thursday, August 13, 2020

 Dear Henry,

how does it feel how does it feel to get old like summer in Chewelah like sugar pie an unmanageable stain a kind of hoarding I abandoned my clothes Hugh Hefner wore a suit in public enough already with the stained smoking jacket and coiffed hair tug your sweater across your stomach dear or sit with a pillow on your lap watch the bone gaunted mules pull cart across Wyoming I gave you my hung my pedicure my airplane hangar everything in aspic how many evenings you wasted soaking your foot in a bowl of hot water and Epsom salts it’s time to stage a fake suicide scatter your final notes everywhere including the Aurora Bridge and the mighty Mississip swallow whatever Jesus puts in your mouth choose another child an empty prize bent toward the shack where they gut fish where we gutted ourselves the artist who created Superman had a gig on the side drawing for an S and M fetish mag knew it wasn’t ripe but he kept eating guttural momentum would it make a difference to the sperm splurging split that morning I bought steaks and a GI Joe doll roasted the hairpin that hid your surgical coin folded it into the secret girl book this morning I’m looking for you not one bit shy buster not one bit plague or earwig in your egg drop soup I am hammer toed I am a hammerhead shark waking up God

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

Madam Vice President

I had a real crappy day and my kid had a crappy day too but then I heard the news that Kamala Harris a Black woman is running for Vice President of the United States and this news filled me with so much joy honest down deep joy and so many happy tears I finally turned it around by baking a cake pink icing with pink glitter stars for Girls my Kamala cake and I will build another when she is voted in

And all the little girls around the country looked up and waved because they now too have a chance

Amin Amin Amin

Thursday, August 6, 2020

Pig and farm report

Rosemarie sent me this spectacular carrot cake for my birthday which I had almost as much fun unboxing as I did eating and I mean almost as it was indecently delicious 

I took a little break from writing here and now I see blogger has completely changed its mind about what it wants to be when it grows up it took me a couple seconds to figure out how to post those photos and I have no idea how they will fit on the page will I have to eventually write in something other than my elderly iPad damn

I can’t see when I type but that might be because I’m typing in bed and jesus is punishing me for sloth the reason I haven’t been writing is because I’m being summerly which I tend to do and as long as I can avoid the news I’m happy sleeping with no mania for months or possibly I’m manic all the time and the rest of the world finally caught up

I have not eaten a single fig but I plan to correct that tomorrow today I did the big shopping three weeks worth of shopping and I asked four people to please not wear their masks around their chins this in Snohomish County the actual epicenter of the disease in this country I felt combative and pissed since two of the people I spoke to were working in the store one was putting away produce the other working in the bakery I came home and sent the store a scathing letter I get so angry at stupid the store is the Kroger QFC in Stanwood in case you want to stay away I’m done shopping there and will take my business to Haggen’s down by the freeway from now on

my tomato plants are full of fruit every morning I bend down and pull weeds and just inhale and wait in that fragrance my blueberries are finally blue but not quite sweet the little madrona outside my bedroom window my arbutus menziesii is shedding its brownredbrown bark for the first time since I bought this house four years ago and it is dramatic and stunning my yard is full of these amazing trees

I woke to hard rain this morning I asked Page two days ago to climb up on the roof and dig the pine needles out of the gutters which he did just in time as we used to say at the Big Airplane Factory jit factory work the kanban method of always being busy managing your flow which always makes me think of Ken Kesey who wrote go with the flow who lived that flow and I think about the shop every day what it looks like now who is left the people who had seniority or the fastest workers I was a fast worker my fingers flying across the form boards as I bent and strung and crimped and tied the wire bundles that control everything inside the airplanes until the tendons in my thumbs shredded and I had surgery to rebuild them running for miles a day on that concrete floor but now I’m reminiscing like a grandpa here is kanban in Japanese 看板

for some mysterious reason my son finally got interested in my science experiments the terrariums and he wants to make one in an olive oil bottle he has saved since his olden days I can’t wait to see what he comes up with it has a narrow mouth so he will be planting with my long long tweezers

today I made a will through LegalZoom all I have to do now is wait for the actual papers to get here then get it notarized then bob’s yer uncle it isn’t the first time I have admitted to myself that I may die from the virus I also showed my son where I keep the deed to the house and the title to my car here in a couple weeks I’m going to talk to the bank just to make sure everything is squared away financially for him and I reminded him that I want to be cremated and told him if I get sick in a coma to just pull the damn plug then he got a little freaked out and wouldn’t let me talk about it any more one of the greatest parts of keeping a garden is watching how everything goes back to dirt

has anybody been watching Perry Mason on HBO I think it is fantastic and so much closer to Erle  Stanley Gardner’s books than the constipated black and white version of my youth

my television died for two days and I had to let a stranger into my house to fix it and I wasn’t happy about it for many reasons but at least he kept his mask on inside ugh after he left I boiled the entire house in bleach and lye

I stood in the Skagit River hello

ps. I figured out how to edit images but now it won’t let me update my post

Monday, August 3, 2020

100% full

This is the Mississippi Goddamn Nina Simone moon

pink slip goddamn eviction goddamn soft potato goddamn sick in the head goddamn doubledown Monday goddamn fed up motherboard goddamn blood down my leg goddamn vampire government goddamn two headed dog goddamn rancid labyrinth goddamn live wire black anemone goddamn slumlord goddamn car crash goddamn collapsed lung goddamn autopsy goddamn

Nina Simone O Nina Simone I need your fire to rise up in me

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Pig and farm report

that up there is ginger growing in a clay pot on my desk

I admit that I made my go to cake an angel food cake yesterday then had one piece and it was so unlike a carrot cake that I threw the rest in the bin full of snot and longing I stood outside this morning among the tomato vines inhaling to fix my heart and it may have worked tomato vines growing in the sun is a fragrance right up there with new babies and milky puppies and low tide mixed with campfire smoke and the forest floor after a rain and the first handful of lilacs in spring that signal joy directly to my brain I soaked a ginger knob overnight in water to remove any growth inhibitors that might have been on it and threw it in a pot with some soil and watered it when I remembered I was surprised to see it grow so violently after a long time of dormancy my son brought me dahlias this morning and a black moleskine notebook and now he is out getting us dinner to go at a Mexican restaurant the next town over I had a burrito at Taco del Mar a couple weeks ago or months ago but other than that I have cooked every meal I’ve eaten for five months and I am heady at the thought of eating a meal someone else has cooked this morning Hal threw himself at my bedroom window and howled his first ever feral kitten war cry at an outside grey interloper cat who was standing looking stunned by Hal’s ferociousness I was stunned too and after I rewarded him with catnip and praise and sang songs and hymns to his wild instincts who knew such a big sound could come out of such a small body it even brought my son barreling from a deep sleep in his room asking WHAT HAPPENED such excellent excitement for a July morning for a July girl filled with longing

that down there is what happened to a tiny fern that I planted in a Weck pickle jar three years ago my first summer here the fern has exploded upward and it’s raining in the terrarium and all is well here at the Zero Hour Bar and Grill at the end of the world


Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Pig and farm report

Pictures and adverts of people without heads make me uneasy they are usually click bait so I never click to see if the heads appear

William “pig bacon” Barr does not believe that there is systemic racism in America’s police force

Gladioluses look like hilarious spears and clematises look like Mickey Mouse flowers I am unsure of the plural form of either of these flowers

I have to mute the television when Gym Jordan speaks because he is so screamy and irritating and wrong and his lack of a suit jacket at all times proves to me that he has no respect for america whatsoever

Tomorrow is my 67th birthday if anyone ever says I’m “67 years young” I’m going to sock them in the neck

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross was 78 years old when she died she fought like a wild thing full of anger denial and general piss-offedness I love her for tossing her own goddamn five stages of grief out the window at the end

I keep thinking about the blue land crabs that marched through a Miami suburb in early June I believe they were harbingers of a strange and eerie art perhaps a reversal of doom we should have paid attention

William “pig bacon” Barr twirls his pen adjusts his glasses smooths his hair and attempts to talk over anyone but especially women right now he is leaning his head on his hand giving himself a hitler mustache with his middle finger he has a lot of tells William “pig bacon” Barr can also be called William “pig bacon” Tell

Earlier this week I gave myself a tragic haircut and now I can’t tuck it behind my ears hippos get deep cuts and scratches and ticks and bites on their skin which they can’t reach (obviously) so they enlist barbell fish to nibble them to clean and sooth them after which the hippos go into a deep happy trance this is how I feel at my hair stylist

I saw a harmonium on the side of the road just hanging out among the trees it was a perfectly good harmonium and it was on the road for two weeks I wonder where it was going and why

White men have weaponized their cars against children’s soft bodies why aren’t these republican politicians on television outraged and why is it more important to them to protect buildings instead of the soft bodies of Black men and women and children

When I was seven years old I learned how to do yoga from a book about the practice written by Jascha Heifetz and Gloria Swanson once I learned how to stand on my head once I found my center of gravity I was unstoppable and I have been unstoppable ever since no one has knocked me down though they have tried

I believe that human unmasked faces will become ero genous

Do you remember May 30 when we watched a dragon launched into space

I am going to become a secret lip-synch assassin when I grow up but first I am going to learn how to build a carrot cake

My lion-headed son just drove up in his giant truck

That’s it for now

Sunday, July 26, 2020

In deepest July

I am in a dark cave I can hear the whole wolf world howling at me but it’s muffled I am in the cave scrambling out because the tide is rising

I saw remarkable and terrible things this week

when I was at the beach an eagle flew down and plucked an oyster from the sand not three feet away from where I stood his tail feathers spread he took his time with it in no hurry to fly off

this morning I sobbed watching John Lewis’s body travel over the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma Alabama in a cart pulled by two black horses a cart with red iron wheels driven by a stately Black man in a top hat the bridge covered in red rose petals Mr. Lewis’s family walked behind and near the end of the procession each member of his family was given a single long stemmed rose which they placed in a row on the bridge upon which the black horses walked their hooves loosing the petals I could hear people singing We Shall Overcome

this is a historic moment in our country’s dark time on a Sunday in which fires blaze in our cities a Sunday in which the president is a craven beast encouraging us to bring civil war to our infected cities our infected farms our infected schools and hospitals our infected democracy a terrible dark time in this country

I saw a dead owl on the road this week his huge wing fanned out I watched three young boys carry a forth by the arms and legs down the street all of them laughing I watched a lame rabbit drag his broken leg behind him as he disappeared into the underbrush at the state park I walked past an eight year old boy tap dancing like Gene Kelly alone in the back of a truck with the tailgate open a look of pure concentration and joy on his face

two people flew giant homemade squid kites at the lake

Friday I baked a peach pie and after I put it in the fridge before I baked it I realized I forgot to add flour that magic bit that binds the juices so I cut the top of the dough off in a circle and mixed the flour in with the peaches and sugar and nutmeg and lemon juice then put the top of the crust back on and tried to reseal it as best as I could and that pie was delicious though not very pretty having been through violent surgery

I found some lavender in a bucket on the road *thank you unknown lavender woman* and have hung it near the back door to dry

this week I ate my first tomato and mayo on white bread sandwich of the year the tomato from Maria Lopez’s garden not mine the mayo Best Foods the bread as close to wonder bread as I ever get it was spectacular one of my most favorite treats since I could hold a sandwich one of my pure summer joys you can take the girl out of Spokane but...Spokane is connected to me like my shadow

the madronas all around me are shedding their red bark to show their startling bright green underthings these amazing trees these luscious beauties I am embracing deepest July outside at the state park in the lake and in my fragrant kitchen in my woods in my garden I am embracing deepest July with my entire being because I am and always have been and always will be a summer girl

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Pig and farm report

I can’t seem to do a g.d. thing except go to the beach stand in my garden enjoy the heat and yell at people who get too close to me at Maria Lopez’s fruit stand even if they’re wearing a mask though they usually aren’t

I did however make this spectacular pizza the pix are after and before instead of before and after because The World

I want a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting for my birthday but I haven’t made one since high school and have no idea to go about it

going lake swimming this morning

A Rabbit As King Of The Ghosts
by Wallace Stevens

The difficulty to think at the end of day,
When the shapeless shadow covers the sun
And nothing is left except light on your fur—

There was the cat slopping its milk all day,
Fat cat, red tongue, green mind, white milk
And August the most peaceful month.

To be, in the grass, in the peacefullest time,
Without that monument of cat,
The cat forgotten in the moon;

And to feel that the light is a rabbit-light,
In which everything is meant for you
And nothing need be explained;

Then there is nothing to think of. It comes of itself;
And east rushes west and west rushes down,
No matter. The grass is full

And full of yourself. The trees around are for you,
The whole of the wideness of night is for you,
A self that touches all edges,

You become a self that fills the four corners of night.
The red cat hides away in the fur-light
And there you are humped high, humped up,

You are humped higher and higher, black as stone—
You sit with your head like a carving in space
And the little green cat is a bug in the grass.

Sunday, July 19, 2020

Friday, July 17, 2020

Three strange things

A wasp nest attached to my back door that looks like the Invisible Man in a hat

An alligator lizard of all the goddamn things in my yard near the roses the lizard was about seven inches long more alligator than lizard he lunged at me so I lunged back

A wee mushroom the size of my fingertip growing in an orchid on my windowsill

There are so many things I want to write but this much exhausted me Portland is a fire bomb in my heart I have zero plans for July for the first time in maybe ever I have so many friends who are teachers who are deeply concerned about the school year when I taught orchestra in middle school I could not have imagined containing all. those. droplets. I built a plant stand today I have green tomatoes and sugar snap peas and roses and calla lilies in my garden I made cinnamon rolls last week and canned marionberry jam this week

I feel adrift lost at sea I wave from my boat Ahoy! Ahoy!