In the spirit of soon-to-be St Patrick’s Day, I watched Darby O’Gill And The Little People. As I slept I dreamt of nothing clearly but I know little people were in it. Was King Brian paying a visit? We’ll see. I have to say it’s gray outside like St Patrick’s Day usually turns out to be. An omen? Maybe they just like Italian. Growing up I don’t recall hearing stories of little folk, but there were a lot of saints.
Well, here’s something fun or not, depending on perspective: my spelling and grammar check indicates instead of saying ‘growing up I don’t recall’, I should’ve said ‘growing up I doesn’t recall’.
That means: I doesn’t, we doesn’t, you doesn’t, s/he and it don’t, they doesn’t
Even my Italian grandfather spoke better English. Now ‘I doesn’t’ is underlined in green and the grammar check is suggesting I may want to give ‘I don’t’ a try. Good thing I have an inkling about English. Technology!
How peaceful it is without cars whhshhhing by. From the window I see a leaf or two trembling implying a breeze but nothing substantial to cause branches to bend. The house is still asleep.
Anyone up for a coffee?
It’s been a while since I’ve propped myself up in bed and typed. Usually I sit up to the desk after I’ve opened the blinds but they’re still shut. I see what could be sunrise framing the window, my arms are cold, and I’d prefer to cover up and see what’s outside; besides, I feel an early-morning coffee coming on – all first thoughts of the day.
(Ha, SMS speak. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve just figured out what LMAO stands for… an epiphany!)
I sit up to the desk
Must open the blinds
Light frames the window
Verse not so sublime
Could it be sunrise?
Yet a chill in the air
Cover up then I rise
A hot drink it will be
My second thought of the day
So it is as you see
Nifty, no? My teacher-brain is forever in gear and I wish I were still teaching English as a foreign language. My Turkish students especially would love this. I can see them putting their heads together (yes, go ahead and imagine one big head) as they write their verse from a few lines they’d just spoken or a response they’d just written, and can hear the Turkish-English conversation that’d be taking place as I keep reminding them, “English! Argue, discuss in English!”
What’s also got me going has to do with a recipe for Shrimp Etouffee wraps. It calls for fresh shrimp, and I’m talking the whole critter, in order to make stock from the heads and skins, not easily found around this part of the country. When I lived abroad that’s all there was. Yes, you could find frozen stuff but seafood was fresh, sometimes trying to crawl out of the boxes they were in and off the counter. It was everyday to have seafood stock in the fridge for all your cooking needs. Being landlocked it’s commonplace moreso to get sawdust seafood that’s been frozen an eon or two. Cook it up and it hardens. Dreadful. Reminds me of one of the first times I’d bought vegetables. Istanbul was the first ‘other’ country I’d lived and it was there, after preparing fresh spinach and taking the first mouthful what I was savoring was different, from the past, and I knew immediately I’d grown up with this taste. How many years had gone by that it’d been missing? I realized on the spot a result of engineering foods for shipping. What else is lost thanks to chemical alteration for the sake of profit, like I didn’t always suspect but could no longer deny?
Somehow I’m going to figure out how to make it anyway.
And that is that.
The entire household is up and the day begins. I could lament my grandson should sleep later but he’ll being going to daycare soon and will have to be up earlier anyway. This is an early day home for my daughter, “Do you have errands to run after work?” “No.” “If you did I was going to tell you to do them with him today. He needs to be in the habit of being up early seeing he’ll be going to daycare, there’s no sense being distressed he’s up now… as long as you’re coming right home.” Mommy’s it! She can have the con!
Decision, behavior were his
Genes not his control
Blended, nonetheless sacred ground
Why he is brought to the light
Woman fated, forever
To prove what is worth
A presence, strength undeniable
A battle to be seen
As life rages on
Sounds of a shower in the background, an occasional car rolls by but my birds are silent. Hope the sudden dense cold didn’t discourage them and they flew somewhere else. Even with this sinus ringing-in-my-ears I should hear their chirps. Nothing. Don’t give up. This coming week there’ll be spring.
For the first time I tried making a deposit using the cell phone. It’s advertised everywhere. Even through shows that are streamed no one is spared commercials: a happy teen brings home her first paycheck, hugs her parents, is reminded paychecks are good but studying is the most important, high fives her siblings, walks to the dining room table and there chooses the banking feature on her cell and deposits. Her Abuela requests a copy of the photograph of her granddaughter’s first pay. If your bank has the feature, first you photograph front and back, (if your cell has that feature) and then hit ‘deposit’. Easy-peasy as Mickey Mouse Clubbers say. The money clears by the following day. Nifty. I like it. For the first time in almost two years I had a warm and fuzzy feeling toward my Smartphone, the scourge of cell phones as far as I’m concerned. Nonetheless, when this contract is up it’ll be replaced. I won’t miss it.
I thoroughly enjoyed the seasons of Teen Wolf I’ve digested. On the whole each season told a unique and excellent story with excellent transition into each, and excellent acting, excellent effects and gripping excitement that redefines on-the-edge-of-your-seat.
Profound words otherwise fail me today. Spring fever is creeping into my soul, creating the problem that’s causing what could be profound to melt into intense warmth and silent emotion. I’m going to the kitchen to make an espresso, gaze out the window at buildings in the hazy sun as I contemplate how far we’ve come as the town expands, more dwellings are built, and pretty pollution paints what used to be a clear sky, and sigh.
There they are, chirp… chirp… now several join in. Must’ve overslept.
Don’t forget daylight savings time this Saturday.
…which I intend to rectify today. We’ll see what else unfolds as our day wears on,
otherwise, Misfiring Misfires might be a better cue:
“I liked the old days
I could send you away when I wanted
Now I’m stuck having you here
Try being me looking at you every day.”
The thanks for being here resonates
In a place mundane
Yet with every turn I’m told remain
No, more than tells me
Actions realign, uncanny
Watch planets change their place
To ensure I don’t leave
I look at his countenance
Wrung out my heart aches
With no good that I do
Silence guard my tongue
Your lock on my lips keep in place
What’s on the menu for today then? Running an errand or two. We’re out of half n’ half, the essential around this house for frothy cappuccinos or café con leche, which means no coffee until sometime this afternoon – no worries, some days it just works out that way anyway – and otherwise a couple of small things. Big shopping day? No, not yet. There’s still plenty in stock you see, just not half n’ half…
Been watching another style of supernatural show that is a darker take on being a teen wolf. It spanned four seasons and I’ve sunk my teeth into two so far. What happens? An asthmatic kid and his spasmatic friend sneak into the woods to check out a murder and the asthmatic gets bit while the spasmatic gets to stay a spas. Things develop from there. Of course there’re hunters, other creatures besides werewolves, and lots of drama woven throughout being an adolescent. I can tell you it’s beneficial having a teenage werewolf or two on the lacrosse team. Goal! An evil grandfather, two words that sound unnatural together, shows up and is a manipulative b-word for guys exploiting his entire hunter family to get bitten by an alpha, therefore curing his cancer, therefore becoming a super b-word. Of course he reveals this in his wrap-up soliloquy believing he’s the victor, but teen wolves can come up with contingency plans and sometimes they even work. He won’t be back for season 3, or will he?
Time for a superjuice.
They’d gone shopping. After the grocery store it was the video store then the promise of burgers and fries at the Friendly’s across the street.
Nikki backed the stroller out of the store while her son followed behind with his nose in the bag of loot they’d just bought. On the sidewalk she looked out at the busy rural route that was more like a highway. Cars were flying by although flanked by restaurants and shopping centers with driveways directly to the street as opposed to ramps for merging. Didn’t anyone realize they had to slow to pull in and should yield for other cars pulling out, never mind paying heed to the light they’d have to stop at? It used to be more of a country road in a country town but since 9/11 many’d moved away from the city to places just like this one. The population had increased, summer homes that dotted the lake were being turned into permanent residences and on the whole the culture was changing.
As they stood there she saw a semi coming up on the light too fast and right in front of it was a compact car no higher than the front tire. The light changed to yellow, the smaller car began to slow, the truck was still moving too fast but now they both had to come to a stop. Under any other circumstance if a car is rear-ended it’s the other car’s fault but in the case of an 18-wheeler ramming a compact it’d be fatal. Nikki didn’t realize her son’d been watching until, as the truck was rapidly reaching the slowing vehicle, he cried out as if there were a way to stop the 18-wheeler by commanding it. In the look of horror she saw in his eyes was distress at a more-than-likely outcome, urgency and concentration. The truck’s breaks squealed, released a gust of air, and it suddenly slowed as if it were no larger than the other cars on the street. Both vehicles came to a stop without colliding, without a scratch.
She looked down at Percy and bear-hugged him. “Good job kiddo. Hungry?”