Thursday, June 14, 2018

Dear Darklings,

I am going to take back bloggity in my own way which means I am going to answer your comments right here an inverse advice column if you will which means no advice at all I am tired of all the blogfuckery here are some deer for you to look at while I get coffee good morning ha the only things that M$ taught me were that there is always a workaround and credit cards can fuck you up for years

happy summer!

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

fuckitall but I still cannot post on any blogs not even my own not on my mac or my pc dammit all to fucking hell I tried all three posting options including the dreaded anon but no joy I'm going to have to go in and figure out why new booger wants me to fail good morning and hello from the forest where it's been summer for days the beans and peas are amazing the strawberries are full tiny and incredibly sweet and cats run over me if I stand still for more than a minute going to town love


Saturday, June 9, 2018

it is amazing to watch Jupiter with the kittens
she lolls about the outer outer room with me and when the kittens wake up she walks up to them sniffs their behinds so she knows who is who then puts her giant front leg around their necks and starts bathing them oh god

I have not been able to take a photo of it if I move the kits startle but oh god seriously it is adorable

I wrote for an hour this morning but not on Queer Wing-ed I'm still going to reward myself by binge-watching Patrick Melrose here in an hour I am almost finished reading the fourth novel it by far surpasses the first three the growth in Edward St Aubyn's writing by Mother's Milk is remarkable I didn't recognize it the first time I read the novels probably because I was still learning (am still learning will always be learning) to be a writer

I have one half flat of strawberries left


Pig and farm report

I'm not able to post comments to my blog or to anyone elses' blogs not even on my mac as of today this is frustrating as hell as I can't pinpoint the culprit though I suspect it's Krapersky which I just updated on both my computers which is expensive I'm not even sure I can post here at this moment I hope so we had a delicious storm this morning and now it is sunny and raining both the owls sang along the forest for hours  and one swooped right by my window the second I've seen up close this week I stayed in bed reading and playing with all three of the kittens yesterday I worked on Queer Wing-ed (editing) for an hour and then thought I had lost thirty poems because I couldn't find them on the private blog where I posted them but it turns out I stopped posting there in 2015 today I will go in with the hard copy poems and order them that way it makes me nostalgic for the long ago days when I had a beloved typewriter that never required any more attention than changing the ribbon and an electrical outlet and before that just the ribbon but not really

yesterday I went to the farmers market and bought myself some peonies because I refuse to pick my own the peonies are pink and white and fragrant I also bought a flat and a half of strawberries some spring onions and a small piece of fresh farmer's cheese from a farm in Mount Vernon today I am going to write for an hour and later I will make strawberry jam

I wish I could tell you how it is inside here where the sun and rain make the air velvet where the softest imaginable kitty curls into a fist on my chest and calms my breathing where Jupiter rules the moon and teaches her babies how to hunt and cover their food bowls with whatever is handy where my son is freshly in love so much so that he can't think of anything else I wish I could describe my happy and my well being

I am sending out waves of good fortune and love to you Darklings I hope you hear me though electricity wages its tiny stinging war against my finger and Beethoven speckles the light

Friday, June 8, 2018

I can't tell if it's blogger or windows or my pc or kaspersky that makes it now impossible to post comments to my own gd blog I can do it fine on my mac which also has kaspersky freshly renewed and I would have gone elsewhere if there were elsewhere to go the fact that I can post on my mac makes me suspect windows and I am so sick of it and I refuse to install windows on my mac a machine that runs without hiccups but grrr grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Mary Moon writes eloquently and beautifully about Anthony Bourdain here

Pig and farm report

Dear Darklings it feels like I have been gone forever but I am deep in the pudding editing again Queer Wing-ed this time with the help of Prolifiko which is a great program and is free for the time being in beta superb especially if you have a big writing project going it works on a system of setting goals then breaking the goals into smaller steps then rewarding yourself for completing the steps (this is exactly how I teach violin lessons to children and why I never figured it out for myself is beyond me) and with that program and my small writing group yesterday I reached the halfway point I am not editing the poems themselves but cleaning up superscript circles and right angle arrows and making sure all my lines end in pilcrows weird stuff that if left can make editors hate me or so I imagine I have the original folder of poems which was once chronological which is how I intended the mss to read but when I updated my computer to Windows 10 the poems showed up in Word in alphabetical order GAHHHHHHHHH! so I am beginning a new manuscript and using my Queer Wing-ed blog to catch the proper order Prolifiko helps to manage all this and the founders are supportive and make me feel like I'm an actual person not just a number once they go public I will certainly sign on but enough about all that I have had to turn the sound off all my devices to get through this editing process as I am Pavlov's salivating dog when it comes to beeps and whistles except I'm listening to podcasts and books on cd as I go because it's all right brain stuff my small writing group are my cheerleaders it has been so long since I've had a writing community I am smitten

in other news the kittens are no longer feral they are in the world (house) at large now and have had their second round of vaccinations I spend a lot of time tumbling around with them and Jupiter is being a superb mother cat to them I knew she would be she now sings her rare song to find them in the morning and she gives them baths and is teaching them to hunt most recently moths outside through the window

this morning I woke to the news about Anthony Bourdain and I knew I had to shut away from Twitter today there is a storm coming up I can feel and hear it though the weather report just calls for wind nevertheless trout I have opened my windows to let the storm praise come in I have lit a candle for Anthony I have made a pot of coffee and it is time to go back into it

I no longer receive emails when one of you comments nor can I enter my blog through the home page blogger is aware of the email problem but I don't know about the other every system I work in has tightened its security measures on account of the massive FB FU that's it for now Darklings I will be back to our regularly scheduled program as soon as I finish this edit of my book onward and upward

Love and kittens

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Monday, June 4, 2018

The Whale's Tale Newport Oregon 1976

heading out to get my Sufi heart tattoo re-inked when I return I will tell you how much I love you

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Pig and farm report

faster than light Prince Hal and Wolf day nine

my brain is full of garden sky deer bunnies ice cream editing hikes beach combing sun bathing eating outside corn on the cob reading unferaling the kittens who are no longer sequestered in the bathroom and are fully integrated into the bedroom and it is wonderful to have my beautiful bathroom back except at night when the kitties go back in so Jupiter can continue to sleep with me and wake with me pressing her head hard against my head purring both kitties asleep on me now for the first time now bye

100% full

This is the Porch Swing Full Beam Feral Bream moon

Friday, May 25, 2018

Wolfie (I call her Wolfgang though her name is Wolf)

I bought a beautiful soft gray kitty bed with a rounded edge for them to sleep in I bought catnip mice and official noisy balls on string and a catnip carrot with feathers and all manner of kitten goodness and of course they choose the shoebox in which to sleep and for toys it's toilet paper seashells the three heavy books I placed over the heater vent so their tiny paws wouldn't go through the bathtub the shower curtain which is now in a corner in my bedroom since they pulled it down and  of course climbing upon each other Wolfie keeps heading for the door so soon they will be allowed access to my bedroom their next big space 

okay they were allowed access just a few minute ago Wolfie made the leap wandered around under my bed then ran back into the bathroom

I cannot cannot cannot watch the news
my son reports the news to me

it was good to see Weinstein being led from his home in handcuffs but he had a bigass smile on his face was carrying a book to read and now he has an ankle monitor that he has to wear around his eight billion dollar Connecticut house

I hope the orange nightmare is next

our country is in shambles
another school shooting this time at a middle school for fuck sake
a bombing in an Indian restaurant in Canada "they" are saying it is not a hate crime a homemade bomb in an Indian restaurant not a hate crime
seriously I cannot watch the news today

yesterday I went to the outlet mall because the hole in my old man waiting for a bus shoe finally grew big enough for my toes to plop out I bought the exact same pair again those shoes lasted for ten years even though the new shoes were on sale they were three times as expensive as they were when I bought my first pair they at least tossed in some free socks I stopped at a strip mall on the way home and discovered to my pure delight a little restaurant named (hilariously) Gyro Stop their falafel and hummus were outstanding almost almost east coast good it is near impossible to find healthy vegetarian options out here in meat country hell it is impossible to find unhealthy vegetarian options that was my day

Fridays are usually my Saturdays in my brain because after 40 years of factory work Friday was the day where looking forward was the best thing ever

Happy Friday Darklings I hope you find bliss inside the storm


Friday May 25, 2013

The Surfer: Man his legs are skinnier than yours.
The Surfer: You have really really really skinny legs and his legs are about seven inches skinnier than yours.
Me: WHO?
The Surfer: Julie's husband.
Me: He had hip replacement surgery and he's over two hundred years old!
The Surfer: Yeah he's lost some muscle tone.

Good morning Darklings 

Thursday, May 24, 2018

morning dance music:

Jefferson Airplane Volunteers

Pig and farm report

Wolf and Prince Hal day 4

in the mornings I write because if I don't start in right away I get frightened of my own material I have been busy with it not the poems but with Strangle Town I sit in bed hunched over my laptop and by ten AM my back aches this and the feral kittens I was not told they were feral until I picked them up but no worries it will just take a bit longer to get them accustomed to human they are getting braver by the minute and Prince Hal has discovered his voice he vocalizes more than Paris the Genius Cat ever did in his entire I can't help but think Paris inhabits Prince Hal as I am convinced cats do Wolf is the aggressor in this relationship she instigates everything she is forward she is always sitting on top of Prince Hal but Hal is the most affectionate to me at least they have completely taken over the master bathroom and that is fine by me it is A Okay oh lord Jupiter is faring well she stands at the door and watches kitten paws come shooting out at her I rub my hands all over her before I visit the kittens then rub her smell under their ultra sensitive whiskers then when I come out I play extra hard with Jupiter more attention than ever more love then I rub kitten smell under Jupiter's whiskers between the cats the garden and writing this has been a perfect so far (I tend to ignore spring as much as I can) and it feels like summer to me the radishes are in the strawberries are huge and green the roses are opening the iris are blooming the tomatoes are planted and stretching their legs savage spring its terrible engine pushes and lunges forward as it always does and I am happy

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

What's that noise? "We heard nothing."

Prince Hal


Sunday, May 20, 2018

Meet Prince Hal and Wolfie

I went to the shelter and signed all the paperwork and adopted them this afternoon they are spending the night and I will pick them up tomorrow morning at 8 even though the shelter is closed on Mondays they are siblings litter mates brother and sister 8 weeks old Prince Hal has a little hiss but as soon as I picked him up he started purring Agnes of God Wolfie is milk-fat and calm she barely woke when I picked her up but purred I haven't had tiny kittens since Orlando and Paris (also sister and brother) were 12 weeks old these kitties have been neutered and spayed and chipped and have had their first rounds of shots oh lord oh lord I fell in love hard

I have been looking for a kitten to adopt this time a companion for Jupiter who clearly misses Orlando and for we humans as well I have been looking at the CASA website the shelter where I adopted Jupiter since April since that is when kittens appear much like lilacs I have yet to meet this kitten who is two months old but he whispered at me through this picture exactly as Jupiter did

my son will be here Wednesday (payday) and we're going to go say hello and if kitty doesn't gouge our eyebulbs out or turn out to be a small dog then he's going home with us

I have already named him though my son doesn't know it but I have already named him so without further ado meet

Prince Hal

Saturday, May 19, 2018


Still life with oranges

Creamsicle Cake

this is the cake I built today

I replaced the fresh orange juice with high quality frozen-then-thawed orange juice concentrate for both the cake and the glaze
I also dropped one drop literally one drop only of almond extract into the glaze because oranges and almonds marry so well I also added an extra 1/3 cup of sugar to the glaze and I'm going to warm it up over a double boiler so it becomes syrup not just sugar and orange juice bumping into each other

this cake is going to be amazing the frozen-then-thawed orange juice concentrate was a great addition I know this because I licked the bowl clean several times

all of the bowl
and then the spatulas

it tastes exactly like the creamsicle ice cream I loved as a child the kind I got in parochial school a small wax cup with vanilla ice cream on one side and orange sherbet on the other side these came with small paddle shaped wooden spoons that made me shiver when I bit into them

I didn't use my big mixer I never do for cakes I find it over beats them I used my hand mixer to cream the butter sugar and eggs but I gently stirred everything else by hand then toward the end by spatula

I know if I had used the juice from the actual oranges who gave their zest for Jesus  my cake the cake would have tasted like watered down faint maybe hint of orange and the zesty taste of zest I know the cake is the right consistency because I've made cake before

it's in the oven the quiche is out and now some of the quiche is in me

and now I wait


Creamsicle Cake


·         1 cup/225 grams unsalted butter (2 sticks), at room temperature, plus more for the pan
·         3 oranges, preferably organic
·         1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
·         3 cups/375 grams all-purpose flour
·         ½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt

·         2 cups/400 grams sugar
·         3 eggs, at room temperature
·         1 cup/235 milliliters buttermilk
·         ½ cup/120 milliliters fresh orange juice (Sunmaid Orange juice concentrate)
·         1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice + one TINY drop of almond oil
·          cup/66 grams sugar ( I added 2/3rds cup)
Butter a deep, 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment or wax paper. Heat the oven to 325 degrees.
2.      Finely grate the zest of the oranges into a bowl. Squeeze 3 tablespoons of juice from the oranges and add it to the zest. (Reserve remaining oranges for making glaze.) Stir in lemon juice and set aside.
3.      In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking soda and salt.
In a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream butter at medium speed until fluffy and light, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the sugar and beat to combine. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing after each addition.

4.      At low speed, add a third of the dry ingredients and a third of the buttermilk, mixing until the batter is just combined. Repeat with remaining dry ingredients and buttermilk, adding in batches and mixing until just combined. Add the orange zest mixture and combine.
5.      Pour batter into the prepared pan. Bake until just firm in the center and a tester inserted into the center comes out clean (a few crumbs are O.K.), about 1 to 1 1/4 hours. Start testing after 1 hour.
6.      Meanwhile, make the glaze: Heat the juices and sugar over a double boiler until sugar dissolves.
7.      When the cake is done, let cool in the pan for 15 minutes (it will still be warm). Turn out onto a wire rack set on a sheet pan with sides (run a knife around the edges if it sticks at first).
8.      Peel off the paper and use a baster or brush to spread a few spoonfuls of the glaze over the top. Let soak in before adding more. Continue until all the glaze is absorbed by the cake, including any that drips through onto the sheet pan. (Use your brush to pick it up from the pan and transfer back to the top of the cake.)
9.      Let cool at room temperature. Eat immediately or wrap well in plastic and refrigerate. Serve at room temperature or cold, in thin slices.

last night I dreamed I looked out my kitchen window and saw that the potatoes had sprouted flowers that the flowers were turning brown which is a sign that the potatoes are ready for harvest I ran outside and knelt in the dirt and started digging up red and white potatoes then I dug up a small dead black bird which I placed on the deck

today is Dennis's funeral it began at 11 at the church
this morning I spoke to my son and to my son's best friend and I spoke through my son to Michael my other brother in law (married to Jim's sister Linda) who I knew before I even knew Jim who I have always adored who is now in a wheelchair and on oxygen because of damages to his body from Agent Orange in Vietnam where he served as a Green Beret

and cigarettes
and drugs

today is the worst day for me I watched the royal wedding and cried now I am crying for Dennis for my son for Michael for Jim for my brother for all of us

today is dark

I am of course baking because later tonight I will have my son and his best friend and their girlfriends but I would have been baking three headed dog no matter what I decided to make a quiche and also the orange cake but I ran over myself because I made my piecrust and put it in the freezer and realized that I only have one oven so the quiche is in everything for the cake is mise en place I washed up my mess-so-far I did not once get my apron tails in the toilet I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher

I have been listening to the talkie edition of American Gods all morning and now I am completely stopped

Royal moments I loved

the choir sining Ben. E. King's Stand by Me

when Harry was putting the ring on Meghan's finger she kind of booped it on herself just a tiny boop but it slayed me

Doria Ragland every second

Meghan’s hair had come loose by the time they walked out of Saint George's Chapel and she left it did not brush it off her face

the white horses oh the white horses

the hats all of them

Duchess of Despair

I was born for this
I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.
~ Charles Bukowski

Friday, May 18, 2018

Pig and farm report

yesterday I wandered wandered wrote and wandered then vacuumed then brought the garbage can in from the road where it wanted to run over my heels I finally emptied the dishwasher and filled it again I finally washed the clothes and put them in the dryer I ate beans then wrote into the night

I am going to bake this orange cake it looks delicious but I am going to use frozen orange juice concentrate in place of the actual orange orange juice on account of how weakly and sad oranges are here in not winter I tell myself I am baking this cake for my son who returns home tomorrow night and leaves again Sunday morning but that is a big old lie we all know it you know it I know it that cake will reside in my heart right next to the beans

now I am going to apply lipstick and go to the bakery and not get in trouble for coffee beans then to the library which is next door to the bakery which is next door to the coffee roasters then to the Bait & Tackle to find three decent or fairly decent or even crappy oranges for their zest

I do find it eccentric and odd that this island has its own coffee roasting company and its own French bakery but not a decent slice of pizza or much of anything else for that matter except of course the ocean and the forest

I have discovered a completely white horse here and when I pass her I scream UNICORN in my outside voice

I rinsed my hair with vinegar a few minutes ago it helps tame the well water effect and yes yes I do smell like an Easter egg

Here then are excerpts from a section of Strangletown

Dear Henry,

you said you knew what it's like inside but you lied

under a bank of lights men and women moved rapidly covered  me with warm sheets I chose to stay awake in spite of being betrayed perhaps a saintly height there was a knock we were under arrest Frances the kids the bookie hand-on-chest heroics I wore dark rimmed glasses showered every morning and every night you never satisfied my obsession with truth or learned to cook a lye-laced Bon Ami shot at best and drunk without books enthusiastic about my portraits and my magneto giant vulpine loping and scratching in the muddy crawl space under your precious floorboards

Dear Henry,

I keep dreaming little dreams and in each dream I am being chastised I spent a lifetime being chastised so I wake up in my dream if you are pulling my hair questioning how I tend my animals reminding me of your fierce life your sweet addictions your chambers your lighthouse I think I have it figured out but I don’t even have my own lungs figured out much less the architecture of the universe the meaning of the cigar smoke I smell at the oddest times or why that damned black bear swam across the sound wandered around on the beach then visited a suburban neighborhood before he ran across the freeway only to get hit by an unsuspecting driver and how that driver must have felt seeing the bear out of nowhere I swell up in my head and my eyes push out like turnips I wrote my phone number on the inside of a red matchbook but the phone doesn’t ring you are feral I am feral I keep my legs crossed at the ankle and my arms inside the ride at all times but it’s tricky it’s tricky and it seeps out into my pungent reality I can’t see around that big curve of earth and up the mud-soaked red clay road I can’t remember what I promised or why the irises refuse to bloom though they are packed tight in their green dresses packed so tight and hard they burn purple lips crisping at their edges

Dear Henry,

I am mindless no belief in angels barely sentient immobile and singular it’s Sunday I can hear the veins of the rational world everyone in a dream is also dreaming the milk hour the gaunt hour the childrens' hour I need to dream around the planetary tides here on the border everything is exposed malignant blind without direction you walk in the river measuring my attention the contrails of dreams the complicated earth instead of the one I love

Dear Henry,

my friend brought me a bear and I lived with the bear in my house and we were quite happy the bear and I then my friend came back and told me he had to chop off the bear's paws and I would have to eat them I sucked the meat out of one paw and I was disgusted and filled with grief now I'm eating an avocado that tastes like fifty-five acres of California heartland it tastes like Frida Kahlo's dream of having a baby it tastes like sugar and sweet-grass and cream and butter and cotton bed sheets dried on a clothes-line in the hot sun and it tastes of the cornfields that spread across Illinois this avocado came into my hands like Jesus on a bender I'm not kidding

Dear Henry,

I was inside an old pentecostal church where cakes were being auctioned I tried to buy a perfect tiny orange cake for you I told the auctioneer I have three dollars but the auctioneer said sorry this cake is fifty dollars I stuffed a giant wooden crucifix into my suitcase I sat in a chair smoked a cigar
what are you doing here

Dear Henry,

in Chicago my son was in jail you had been abducted by aliens and recently returned you said wear the green dress which I kicked under the bed Violet’s car broke down and I placed round tables covered with white cloths embroidered with Napoleon’s royal bee crest up and down Webster Avenue summer undulated my hair a blond tangle of sweat my feet were buried in hot asphalt and the heat rose up through my body like a kundalini picnic all set about with fever trees now a pure god a nasty little salamander lives with you in my heart

Dear Henry,

you and my cat were bit by a scorpion a terrible deathly bite I had to choose who to save because I didn’t have enough money for two doctors I chose my cat the three of us drove onto the Nestucca ferry landing a long uphill ramp when we got to the top the ferryman said you had to pay him five dollars then we went down another long ramp onto the boat then drove on to another ramp going up again and the ferryman said you had to pay him five dollars and you handed him a huge five dollar bill painted on severely creased paper with mimeograph ink  and water colors the ferryman said THAT IS NOT REAL MONEY and my car slid backward down the ramp out of control my foot was crushed ached sharp its own scorpion bite

Dear Henry,

I confine little I confine very little I confine everything I tell the truth I am a liar I write the truth I tell nothing I have forgot last night Violet and I played the game I wrote of it here sad and stupid I am tired of you being Jesus scraping your spoon against your bowl sucking your fingers putting your fingers in your nose sucking them you are a disgusting dangerous Jesus and a bully you’re angry because you did not ascend (again) screech screech scrapes your spoon as you attempt to get every single droplet of cheese out of your bowl I listen to Beethoven so loud my hair cells bend to their knees screech screech srapes your spoon Jesus no one asks you to stop your noise stop putting your fingers in your nose then your mouth then touching doors that I touch in another locked room I need to remember how to be a good writer I am afraid it is slipping away from me I am afraid of forgetting how I am sad I have forgot

Thursday, May 17, 2018


All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace

I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.
I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.
I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace.

~ Richard Brautigan 

All watched over by machines of loving grace

I threw some clothes in the washing machine and started to empty out the dishwasher but I got distracted (by Henry Darger) and picked up all the loose kitty toys and dangly wires from my floors and started up the Roomba (Oh Maryrose how this little robot has saved my beans) now the Roomba is running around in a rather random fashion since I think it might have a tiny bit of old age brain (as do I) and Jupiter is following it from room to room as she does to her great amusement and I ate an apple then I sat down here distracted (by Henry Darger) and ordered a luscious lipstick from Chanel Rouge Coco Ultra Hydrating Lip Colour (my shade is Mademoiselle which sounds deliciously whoreish) I was never much of a lipstick wearer until I hit my fifties then I wore it at the strangest moments until I went to Dartmouth for my first reading of Queer Wing-ed and wanted to fancy up a bit and Alice told me my color was not in fact pink or red that my color was brown which sounded wrong but turned out to be exactly right and now I am wearing lipstick all the time now that I am pulling all this Darger research together but I didn't make this connection until just now just now  right now as I am typing it is not the most expensive lipstick I've ever purchased but it is the second most expensive and I put it on my credit card and I am between paydays but it's okay I will not go hungry nor will I be unable to pay my bill though I forget this all the time I forget every single day that I am okay now until something makes me remember though usually it is having enough toilet paper not fancypants lipstick

If you're sad, add more lipstick and attack.
Coco Chanel

Pig and farm report

a relief from numbness today light rain last night soaked my plastic deck chair and the coral and white polka dotted beach towel with which I covered it the rain also watered my potatoes and strawberries and fancy snow peas and lettuces which are all that have sprouted so far I have been managing to write every day though I always make fun of writers who write that they are writing every day because that's what we are "supposed to do" but I am specifically writing about Henry and now about the contents of his room and I rarely do what I am supposed to do

it took me seven years and three months to be able to delve into this material without suffering fevers headaches nightmares terror panic attacks and flat out fear

I want and need to answer your comments here I am sorry for being so very late

yesterday I baked an elaborate loaf of bread ate two pieces then tossed the rest away panic baking at its best and how rich how incredibly wealthy am I to be flush enough to throw away flour and oil and egg and milk and cheese

today my son is gone and I can care for myself I can be myself I can relax a bit this morning I was reading in bed and Jupiter climbed onto my chest and pressed her head as hard as she could against my face which is hard indeed (I had to turn my cheek so I could continue to breathe out of my nose) and she purred and kneaded my hair for a very long time such intense animal love such intense goodness we exist here in the forest the two of us a strange marriage watching the birds and deer and bunnies and frogs together

I should start about my day or I should get back into my notes before I lose courage

two visitors yesterday this doe casually walking past one of the outbuildings here at Summer's End as I stood on the deck drinking my coffee until she saw me and hissed the same way Jupiter hisses when  walk next to her right hip the hip that was fractured when I adopted her not a spitting hiss but a hiss nonetheless     


Tuesday, May 15, 2018

100% numb

Sunday, May 13, 2018


my Christmas cactus appears to be blooming

I swear Summer's End is a gardener's paradise 

Becky Homeowner Doing It Right

I bought these expandable screens on sale for $3 each last December when the snow would not stop at Tru-Value Hardware The Store That Spells Its Name Incorrectly bwahahahaha! I have one for every single window in the house

take that global warming

also it's only 68 degrees but that's forest hot I know you eastern and southern women are laughing at me I don't care I already have a farmer's tan


I just made a batch of currant scones for myself and later I am going to make creamy polenta with marinara and mushrooms because my grief is a ravening lion and there is no one in this divorced existence to bring me cheese-laden casseroles and churchy desserts


Last night I watched the first episode of Patrick Melrose on Showtime and it is crazy wild and beautiful and fascinating and incredibly acted I read the books by Edward St. Aubyn back in the 90s and I was so I was hoping the show would hit the mark and it did oh boy did it

I have never had cable television before in my life
hell I didn't even have a television until 1992 though I would rent one at Christmas at Rent-A-Center so Page and I could watch Christmas programs

when I returned to the city from the commune the noise of not only television but radio was too much to bear we barely had electricity up there where I learned to be human


Pig and farm report

this morning I ran around my house with Jupiter and her magic elastic string she is busy hunting birds through the window a few seconds ago I thought one of the hummingbirds was in the house because I noticed its reflection on my floor right next to my feet but it was only shadow thankfully once when I was married a bird flew into our little house and I was alone and didn't know what to do so I put a wastebasket over it then sat on the wastebasket until my husband came home and rescued the poor bird I am a grown ass woman now and can deal

when I wrote that I ran around my house that is literal Jupiter is a fine companion and she loves to chase she also loves to play peek-a-boo there is no other way to describe it I crouch down on one side of the sofa and then pop my head out and she pops out and this could go on for hours if we let it

I never think of myself as her mother however I know many people who refer to their pets as their children or their babies I just don't though I won't judge you if you do at least not so you could hear

and that's all the MD crap I'm going to post today as I do not observe though my son called to tell me that he is coming home tonight and will be here a few days until he goes back for Dennis's memorial service next Saturday

grief flows in and out of me
Dennis struggled with cancer for ten years which is a very long time and he was in terrible pain those entire ten years and he and his wife believed that Jesus would cure him
they prayed a lot

Dennis occasionally snuck out and shared a beer or a toke with Jim though and a couple months ago when Page was there Dennis came roaring up on his four wheeler even though he had a tumor pressing into his brain and was not supposed to ride it

fuck rules

yesterday I listened to part six of S.Town a podcast in the house and cleaned and dusted and then rearranged the pantry then I listened to part seven of S.Town out on my deck in my brand spanking new plastic patio chair with my legs up in the actual real sun later on once the podcast was done I wanted to keep listening so I put on my Books on Tape (cd) version of American Gods and made tortillas I have read American Gods twice and watched the first season of the television show that was on last year several times so I didn't have to listen as hard as I listened to S.Town about which the indomitable Mary Moon wrote here and I ate liberally of fresh warm tortillas with nothing but butter so delicious and then I wrote

by the way S.Town is remarkable as good and compelling as a sprawling southern gothic novel

yesterday morning I decided it was time to finally fetch the eight notebooks that contained my hand-written notes from the Robert A. Roth Study Center in Chicago there is a dangerous stack of notebooks that hold not only those notes but an entire novel and who knows what else piled in an inverted pyramid in the library closet which is how I pile everything strangely and I had been dreading having many heavy things drop on my head when I finally decided to let them loose but I got my flashlight and my steel-toed boots and my tool belt and a canary in a cage and I tossed back a cold beer (not really I don't drink anything at all my pancreas says NO) and dove in and as I was standing on my little step stool I noticed a tidy pile of notebooks in my green bookcase the antique bookcase I bought on the island last summer so I opened the glass door and Lo! and Behold! there were the eight notebooks

somehow during my frantic move here to Summer's End I managed to separate those notebooks from their herd and I honestly don't remember doing it or putting them in the green bookcase but I did and now there are alive and seething

I was going to post something here today from them from the hybrid animal I am writing (Thank you Rosemarie for the encouragement on this) that was originally going to be an introduction to Queer Wing-ed but now looks like it will be its own book its own something as it is voluminous and goes deep I am working with a group of writers on it in particular Shanna Compton founder editor and chief bottle washer of Bloof Books who created a safe space in Slack for those of us who dare but it is too dark of a post for a day like this

drinking coffee watching the green forest burning a ginger and grapefruit scented candle eating fresh tortillas with butter for breakfast hello Darklings hello from the forest the ocean the last end of the world


Friday, May 11, 2018

I am perversely excited for the royal wedding. I have had zero interest in the royal anything ever with the exception of Grace Kelly’s clothes in Rear Window. We all know who to blame.

Terrible America 

Pig and farm report

I made two perfect baguettes yesterday and had this for dinner

the deer are back and huge they come at night before dark into the forest so close to the house a doe a buck and two fawns two days ago a ruby-throated hummingbird flew through my hair in the mornings I pour a cup of black coffee and sit with Jupiter and watch the green forest it is spectacular this time of year thick and wild I have been walking the marsh trail then up into the the black tail forest (Camano Island State Park) every day if I go at dusk and reach the highest point where the trail stops it is a brand new planet the apex where the sea meets the trees it smells like Jesus heaven odd and teeming and solitary in the best way

Good morning Darklings good morning the lilies I cut and brought into the house are finally losing their petals last night Jupiter came tearing out here to play and she stepped on the petals which I left on the floor because I couldn't bear to move them and she jumped straight up into the air and spun her sleek body around and landed four feet away ahhh ahhhhhh when the earth's surface changes without notice


Thursday, May 10, 2018

my corner

this house has eighty seven billion windows and if I face them all I do is look out I am expert at looking out also running with that tidy desk messy mind idea

Pig and farm report

Tuesday my son and I drove to Tru-Value Hardware in town and I bought two forest green fake as in plastic but sturdy Adirondack chairs for $19.00 each and two small folding side tables to match we spent the day in the sun on the deck drinking Dr. Pepper and soaking it in I actually put on my swimsuit

yesterday we were both frozen with grief and my son wandered around outside and I did not

this morning my son finally left for his father's house for the orchard and I am anxious and it's raining and I am sad and it's raining and I am sad

I'm going to make Julia Child's French bread because it takes forever and it's complicated with many steps also I have some radishes from a farm close to me so red and fresh and I crave a radish and butter sandwich but I have no bread and no desire to drive to get some hell I don't even want to leave the house to fetch the mail so there it is I tried to type purchased in the first paragraph of this dispatch I tried to type it six different ways but could not find the correct way until I reached this stop

last night I dreamed Jupiter was a beautiful woman eating in a restaurant in NY

today Jupiter is looking at me scornfully because I don't feel like running around with her magic piece of stretchy string those gold eyes those gold eyes


The Violet-Green Swallow named Laurel

embracing the politics of radical aloneness

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Dennis Loudon died Monday May 7th at 4:30 in the afternoon. I am rocked by grief that I cannot consume. I spoke to Jim my ex for a long time yesterday. I wish I could be there. Torn up. Dennis was 56 years old. Did I already write that? I am deep in the pudding now.


Friday, May 4, 2018

My son's uncle Dennis who has been struggling with metastasized lung cancer for the past ten years had a stroke a little while ago a few minutes ago and he chose to go home my son is here but will be driving up to the orchard tomorrow I am worried about my son and I am worried about my ex-husband who is not one to show emotion but Jim and Dennis and the three sisters are close the whole clan are close they always have been honestly one of the main reasons I married Jim was so I could marry his family I lost Dennis in the divorce which is how things go but I got to be there when Gramma Fay died I loved her with my whole heart oh shit spring is so fucking brutal Page is pacing around calling his friends who are all friends with my ex-husband who has more friends than anyone I have ever known he is loyal and kind just as Page is just as loyal and kind goddamn


I met this little beauty in the black tail forest on my hike yesterday


a new thing that has begun with my wild dancing and hiking up and up and up into the woods every day is that my hips ache at night very lightly not really pain but it's there it's real also my butt now looks like two small bags of dry corn kernels yay mirror finally at the correct height
She taught me the speech rhythms that are essential to being a good storyteller. There is a drumbeat, in which you have to get your idea across in a breath.
~ Ken Kesey, The Paris Review, The Art of Fiction

I reread the Kesey interview last night my hero my friend and I discovered as I always discover in his words the reason why I needed to dance my way through the poems I wrote in April they were so raw that I needed that drumbeat to force the words out and while I wrote I was breathing in a drumbeat little breaths huh huh huh huh huh an actual breath cadence which I've been doing since I started writing Queer Wing-ed or at least since I began trusting myself in writing it but I didn't realized it until I started dancing in this house and now there are some poems I want to go back into breathe life into them this morning I had a great conversation with my son about how as artists we need to trust our gut instinct about whether our art is perfect or flawed but how we must question our process all the time so we don't get stuck I'm curious what you might think of this in terms of your art

and then I danced

it's ten degrees cooler this morning than it has been all week so I'm heading out to work on the garden then I'll go to the beach then I'm going to go fetch my book from the library then I'm going to scrub all the mildew off my beautiful metal window frames I live on an island after so there it is then I have to finish an interview I began when I got sidetracked by April an unimportant day except for the fact that I spent over an hour and a half writing this morning on Slack where I finally decided (this is a lie nothing is final) that I need to trust my Henry poems to let them stand and turn my voluminous research into its own separate ideas its own book I believe in my stupid pinched heart that the research is important

Good morning Darklings Happy Friday and Fuck the NRA and all of its goons


Thursday, May 3, 2018

Pig and farm report

Tuesday I was visited by the dread insomnia in spite of doubling up on my meds (as indicated by DOGNURSE) only got two hours of sleep I had a busy day and drove to La Conner and stopped at Snow Goose Produce and bought some tulips and felt very happy and trippy then I came home and mounded more soil around my potatoes I think I got too happy overstimulated as the Johnny Cash Psychiatrist used to say and I never believed it was a thing but I might be changing my mind because yesterday the non-sleep day I felt horrible all day and anxious but I planted some snow peas and non-poo-tainted lettuces on my deck then later when the house was all toasty by the sun I decided to bake a cake which I tossed in the bin this morning a waste of eggs and butter but baking still is a good stress release for me today I am back to normal (hahahhaaaa) and I am working in Slack (has anyone here used Slack?) to work on my intro to Queer Wing-ed with a closed group of writers though my plans may go horribly awry as I am easily distracted and the sun is out and the birds are singing etc

I discovered an elegant way to hang my very old very heavy mirror which has been on the floor since I moved here yes I used to be a painter but my hands and my wrists won't take any long term painting these days though I suspect that's just an excuse as I can play my violin and dig in the dirt for hours nevertheless here is my beautiful French easel put to good use and also I can see more than from my knees down and it feels good to have the easel in the house instead of the shed and I think it looks cool yes I still say cool I am so old but I still got up and danced this morning

yesterday I cleaned out all the uneaten frozen soup and chili from my freezer to free up the jars for my summer garden then I made fresh soup minestrone and cooked it for hours and this morning I am still cooking it adding flavor deepening the taste it is delicious and I am so rich now that I was able to put a parmesean rind in there oh yum

here are my tender young veggies and my canning jars in the dishwasher (I thought they were pretty)

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

If you ride horses enough, you will eventually fall off.
   ~ Austin Anderson, trick rider. New York Times Magazine, April 29, 2018

This quote filled me with glee. Here are some star lilies I grew my own damned self. The sun is out and I'm going to the beach.


Monday, April 30, 2018


Finish it.
            ~ Don Draper

Put one finger down put the next finger down then begin again put one finger down put the next finger down this is how to be a writer in case you forget in case your mother molests you in your bed every night in case you do not learn to speak for twenty & seven years because you are slammed into yourself put one finger down put the next finger down then begin again this is how you fly when your mother throws your violin your books your records one pair of patched jeans & you into the yard into the street into the wolf world before you have even begun to bleed put one finger down put the next finger down then begin again in case your great left toe freezes & gets gangrene & falls off inside your boot while you are a homeless teenage girl in a brutal Spokane winter in case you live outside or in a boarded up building or under the bridge & all  you think about is pain day after day in case you get caught stealing cheese from a bin in the grocery store & police chase you in the parking lot & pin your girl body to the curb put one finger down put the next finger down then begin again in case you are thirteen years old with a limp & dirty hair & you go to a motel with a strange man to have a shower in exchange for sex put one finger down then put the next finger down record every word hold that man in your chest & all the other men & all the other showers & all the other knives in your warm body your soft folds forever put one finger down put the next finger down & begin again in case an eight year old boy who is squatting in a house with you takes LSD & screams & can’t stop screaming because he thinks he is going to die in the toilet & you don’t know what to do because you are a child & squatting in a house put one finger down put the next finger down play the keyboard like a stupid drum in case you marry at seventeen to escape the streets put one finger down put the next finger down then begin again in case you hear fire engines up the street on a Sunday morning in case you’re getting divorced again & moving to another house a haunted duplex that holds fleshy true injured children in case you have to move in the middle of the night with your infant son & your ex-husband lets your feral cat shoot out the door a cat named Fledge tiny & gray with stripes while you move books & records even after you warn him to be careful put one finger down put the next finger down in case you go to the old house at three in the morning every day for months calling Fledge sobbing her name even though the loss of Fledge is much worse than the loss of your husband put one finger down put the next finger down record it in case you need to make order of the senseless wolf world in case your brother has a child he never gets to see in case the boy was born in a dank ugly town then whisked away from your brother or you were whisked away so you never knew each other put one finger down put the next finger down in case your father moved to different state to start a brand new family with three brand new daughters but tells you he’s sorry he’s sorry he left you with her one month before his heart explodes & you lose him forever put one finger down put the next finger down if you want to be a writer in case you were raped in front of your own goddamned house in a familiar car put one finger down put the next finger down this is how you do it this is how to write open your mouth outside on a wintry day & see if birds don’t fly out see if they don’t fly right out riding your plumed breath cover your ears & open your mouth to hear birds whisper to one another this is how to do it one finger at a time moving over the waves that’s right now get up & scream your fool head off one finger one letter one word at a time.