Have You Seen This?

Today's post for Qarrtsiluni just knocked me out.

Sideswipes and T-Bones

I've been in no mood to read poetry for the last several days. So I've dug into my long boxes and read comic books instead. I've enjoyed this break from the tyranny of thought and feeling.

~*~

Tulips budding, lilacs sending out new leaves, and the lungwort transplants are blooming their little pink blooms. It's clear today. 60 and breezy. I wish I was in the yard instead of at work.

~*~

I slept stupid the other night and am trying to convince my left shoulder that it's not pinched and painful. I am failing in this. It's time to call Dr. Oshi. I need adjusted.

Madonna as Never Before

Iggy and the Stooges covering "Burning Up" and "Ray of Light" from the 2008 RnR Hall of Fame Inductions.

From the Front Page of a Local Paper

Blargh!

The last four or five days have been crazy as far as work goes: people quitting with no notice, a vicious stomach bug that knocked people out for a few days, etc. It's been hectic. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I felt like I was getting kicked in the head. Over and over and over.

And then there was the missing food. That I think is what really set me off and made me overly emotional. It was nothing big. Just a frozen dinner I had in the office fridge for lunch. Three dollars max. I show up Friday morning and look in the freezer for something and it's gone. I asked the person who was about to leave if he'd eaten it. He said no, so I knew who it was. And I was livid. Matter of principle stuff, basic up-bringing: if it's not yours don't eat it.

The manager comes in about 8 am to pick up deposits and paperwork for the accounting. I say something to her about it. She cocks her head, much the way a cocker spaniel would if it was waiting for some bit of food to fall off the table. She nods repeatedly, her way of showing "I hear what you're saying, I care," and says: "Well, RJ. Remember, it's Easter. Jesus died for our sins." Seriously. No irony. Nothin. "I didn't ask for anyone to die for my sins. I just want my lunch back." Again she nods like a hyper bobble. "So you don't think much about the eternal." "I'm very much a here-and-now kind of guy. And here and now? I want my lunch back."

Happy Easter from the Bad Peeps

Gnarls Barkley--Run

From their upcoming album, The Odd Couple.

Why Amn't I Sleeping?

Sleep is where I'm a viking. I like that. It's better than dreaming about work and mysteriously appearing and disappearing clothes. But, I digress.

I should be asleep. I should be acclimated to my new diurnal schedule. But, obviously, I'm not. It's almost 4 in the morning. It's windy outside and the maple's limbs are beating the roof, the bunches of wind chimes are cacophonous and awful. The cat is tearing through the house like he's been dosed with PCP doing his usual circuit of kitchen, living room, bathroom, reverse, repeat. When he's not doing that he's insisting he sleep on my chest with his face in mine. He needs to go on a diet.

I went to a reading last night by my friend and former teacher Irene. She was, as usual, grand. A nice mix of older poems, some short short essays which she's been reading for a series on the local public radio stations, and some new poems. One of the essays and the final poem brought tears to my eyes. I was gut punched. They're magnificent. We're planning a visit in the next couple of weeks. I'm glad, it's always a good afternoon. Even though she doesn't live far, maybe 40 minutes away, I feel like I never see her often enough.

Blossom Bloggin

I started cleaning out the flower beds today, mucking out the old spent stems and seed heads. The white crocuses are finally blooming (thanks for the heads up on that Pamela), the daffodils are budding and the teeny tiny tete-a-tete daffodils are in bloom. They're ridiculously small, but spread and naturalize like a dream.

Happy Birthday, Brian

He's 27 today.

Happy Pi Day

Balance and Tipping

Sunny and beautiful but that's deceptive. There's still a bit of a chill. Really perfect though. The crocuses are blooming like mad, deep purple all over the place, but I was pretty sure I'd planted white ones as well. What gives?

Fletcher has brought me his second offering of the spring, a mole. As long as he keeps these on the front porch I'm fine with it. Keep them out of my tulips.

Have yet to hit the Powerball, so so much for the poet retirement plan. Ah well.

Taxes, done. Birthday cards, done and mailed. Overall a good day.

Bad Bad Blogger

Signing on last night, I saw that I had a comment from Collin asking if I'd died. "It's not been that long since I posted," I thought. Then I realized it's been almost two weeks. Crazy. Where's the time gone? What've I done with it?

I was out of town the last two weekends, so that accounts for part of it. I've been slogging away at revisions and an application for a retreat. That's part of it. But as for the rest, I have no clue.

I'm ready to get out and play with plants again. Daffodils, crocuses, tulips and these little things called stars of Bethlehem have been popping up all over the yard. No blooms yet, just great dark clumps of foliage. The lenten rose has yet to bloom--which is a major disappointment. They're supposed to bloom in the early part of the year, while there's still snow on the ground. The mornings have been a cacophony of bird song. It's almost spring. Finally.