Sand monster

I just wrote someone that fighting the weeds i’ve ignored all summer now, in mid-august, is like fighting a sand monster, being unequipped with any superhero skills. they morph and move at will and i just have a little sweeper upper, no spell to chant.

sometimes my language of metaphor and simile is just thrilling. i’m taking a once-weekly poetry challenge with a friend (Alix Klingenberg) just for the month, but its been a wonderful hour for my brain, a loosening of the weft and warp of my brain, and I find myself slack-jawed at the ways in which language can be thrown down.

poetry is an elegant use of humanity.

in the face of countless calls to health insurance companies, car troubles, worries about money, automation, depersonalization, there are roses, there are flower petals dropping to the ground while no one watches. the fans oscillate. the artwork falls cockeyed in the frame. there is a chill to the air today, reminding me that i’ve survived another summer. jazz plays while i am on hold and i enjoy it. lots of horn.

there are piles of paper fluttering in the fan’s effort. its as if i have brought the ruffles of a thousand feather in with me. these bills, these jobs to be done, referenced, researched. and still my feet brush against the faux velvet of my pink sofa and i preen as i look around, the work of a thousand times a thousand minutes all proving how damn lucky i am. full cups and all that.

lovelove you, do.


close up photography of gray stainless steel fan turned on surrounded by dark background
Photo by Alireza Kaviani on


Pent tent.

It rained. hallelujah, and then some. My farmers are smiling again and work is more pleasant. Plus, my flowers are in ecstatic frisson.

I’ve begun to talk about the weather as a bonified subject, by the way. I am going to do my best to add some more bonified subjects as I move along this year, because I am just fit to be tied, flummoxed, out and out dismayed that my conversational skills may be suffering.

Maybe a new subject will be my ability to slip into 1950s jargon when i’m writing here. Maybe a new topic will be the difference between democracy and capitalism, because people seem really confused. i believe in democracy but not really capitalism. and i feel okay about that, not riled up in the least.

Betcha bottom dollar that other people get their panties in a bunch.

I’m feeling pent up these days. Like, a temper right at the edge of things. The initial title of the post was ’motherfucker’, and I can’t even tell you why. I don’t know if its the heat or today’s full moon but I am flammable. I wrote the other day, of myself, as a floating house on fire, the wavelets licking my burning timbers as part of a dare. I don’t know what it means or where it is coming from, So be careful. Very.

I’m going to take another class in coaching this month, I’m hanging my shingle soon and want to try a new thing. Something good in the world. well, another thing. That’ll be a subject, I suppose.

I’m looking for a new subject or two. What do you suggest?

Special fo you.

tis the season.

it is. it is the season in which i sweat myself, in all the ways. August, you bastard.

the grass is dead. it hurts to go barefoot. god bless you if you have to touch asphalt.

Spent the weekend driving a kid to maine, and returning home through boston, which is full of overly-seasoned aggressive travellers and/or angry wealthy suburbanites who are pissed they don’t have a lakehouse. or maybe they are pissed because they ‘only’ have a lakehouse and not oceanfront. I don’t know what it is, man, but they are some mad dude-like and women-like people.

so i sweat myself.

i’m too stubborn. i’m too much to handle. i’ve got too much to say, and i rattle on. i’m too curious. i refuse, a lot of things.

i’m too hot. so i sweat the kids too. I snap and crackle at them. i’m cranky because no one works like i do in this house, (BUT OF COURSE NOT! I’m a freaking adult, I own the place. Sigh.) the damn kids keep running off before they do their chores, to grow and live life and sin. and they are moving faster than i am, because i’m just lying on the sofa, you see.

i’m not sinning enough, thats part of the problem, for sure. but i’m having a hard time finding the time. between the work and the family? c’mon. when it is this hot, and everything is dying? i’m not chasing ass, or alcohol, or anything at all.

i’m just sitting here, dreading the coming work day. dread most foul.

August, you bastard. Why can’t I quit you?

i need someone to just step in. is it a weakness in me? Is it just a need for AC?


The busy dead.

I’m braindead and dreaming about cigarettes. I can’t find my phone. I’m stalling going into work at the greenhouses because oh my god, its august, and greenhouses are over a hundred degrees. i run to the 95* shade like its a relief afterwards. I cannot drink enough water. I am frequently dead.

I sent a picture of myself to my best friend in wisconsin who is a nurse. and she jumped into high alert, which was not my intention. it was funny sad because i was fine, but could see her distress and feel my own distress at humanity not really being suited for outside work when the world is spinning too fast and is losing its protection from the sun.

tomorrow i drive to maine, leaving my middle at the camp of his dreams. he’s such a cool kid, and this summer i’ve been feeling all the sadness of a mom who works a lot and is not with her kids enough. and now he is gone for two weeks. bliss, for him. and bittersweet for me. sports tryouts start directly when he gets back. its a wrap.

i’m trying to write more, guys, and its not all ending up here, which is probably a relief to you, loyal readers, as maybe what i write here will begin to have more form, more direct glow/flow. Clearly, this is not happening today. I think its the impact of the driving day, the time spent just staring and thinking. I really do. I don’t even always listen to music, and the car I drive is a very zippy jetta. I am wholeheartedly in favor of the jetta, and who knew i’d ever have an opinion about a car? who knew? But I LOVE IT, and will actually consider foregoing a subaru when next I am forced to consider car buying.


sigh. i’ve got to get ready for today’s work. the boss called and said today is a wear what you want day, which means i can forego the pants, which is a blessing of MAGNITUDE. so there is that.

love love, stay cool,


Well, on second glance, i can see why she was concerned! … 😂

Bobbits. (.)

these things:

  • a meditation today stated that my third eye was the connection between my soul and the universe. i was shocked to think my brain, that piece way up there, had a use, a connection, possibly for the first time, in my emotional and spirtitual life. Why am i so disjointed?
    I’ve always been an ‘overthinker’, using my brain to distance myself from the pure emotion, both as defense and then some more defense. I’ve never been happy about that overthinking; its been that piece that i’ve called ‘lazy’ and ‘condescending’, as if my brain wouldn’t allow me to be snivelling in sorrow in the corner because it just didn’t suit what my practical side needed/wanted. tell me ‘snivelling’ doesn’t hold an opinion that you can hear, right?
    technically the third eye is supposed to be about intuition, which is a much better mix of brain and emotion than you’d think from my convoluted meanderings above. somehow it struck me today, is all, that my brain might be useful. go figure.
  • an understanding of boundaries is growing in me. I can be very dry in establishing them, very drought-oriented, conserving resources where and when I so design, making sure my water runs clear.
  • there is a new door being built on my house. this is taking forever. so far, an entire week. i am adjusting expectations on a daily basis. it is step one-A, before a wall can be put up, which will mean a bathroom can be put in. sadly, i think this will take actual years, and this does not make me feel excited.
  • the heart has a lot to do with compassion, and much less to do with kissing booths. the great teeming masses, the humanity. the common grounds we walk on, and so forth. Even compassion for those you do not like. (see every headline that there is, honestly.) Fyi, blame doesn’t fucking help anything, ever.
  • there is a lot of talk about drought here, what with my work with two different farmers in the area. There is no more humor and the dirt-streaked faces are not smiling, more and more often. Our entire society needs an overhaul. what we NEED and what we value and what we reward with dollars are all completely fucked up. Farmers can’t afford their houses. Bankers have two or three houses. One of those professions is irreplaceable and the other is incredibly replaceable. What are we doing? How’d this set up happen?

I love you guys, I’m figuring out summer, just as it hits the halfway mark. I’ll be back soon,


foggy road
Photo by Jan Tancar on