The Meaning of Existence

by:Les Murray (b. 1938)

Everything except language

knows the meaning of existence.

Trees, planets, rivers,time

know nothing else. They express it

moment by moment as the universe.

Even this fool of a body

lives it in part, and would

have full dignity within it

but for the ignorant freedom

of my talking mind.

Painting: The Ignorant Fairy by Rene Magritte

Added later:

Moments after finishing this post I found out that my cousin Jane passed away after many many years of living with MS.

She was 46.

She is pain free now.

Futility

By: Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918)

Move him into the sun-

Gently its touch awoke him once,

At home, whispering of fields half-sown.

Always it woke him, even in France,

Until this morning and this snow.

If anything might rouse him now

The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds-

Woke once the clays of a cold star.

Are limbs, so dear achieved, are sides

Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir?

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

-O what made fatuous sunbeams toil

To break earth's sleep at all?

Painting by: Susi Franco

A Walk In The Woods

No not the book by Bill Bryson! I did not enjoy the book very much but I always enjoy a walk in the woods.
Sunday my friend Louise, my daughter Rhea and I went for a walk in the woods in the Midland/Penetanguishene area.
Not a long one. It was a total of an hour or so but it seemed longer because we got misplaced.


No we did not get lost. We were simply misplaced!


At least Louise said we were not lost. She knew the basic direction we needed to go to get back to the cars. She kept pointing in a north-easterly direction and sure enough we found our way.


We zigged when we should of zagged and went beyond the point of return so ended up trampling the undergrowth making sure to avoid the trilliums!

Luckily this has been a dry Spring so the boggy areas weren't really boggy.
Although a dry spring is not such a good spring really since we also had a dry winter.

I love being in the woods. I love the silence and sound of the trees and the birds. I love the smell. I just want to live in the woods.

Any woods where I will not get displaced!

BoobQuake Today

Causing an EarthQuake, oh, I mean a BoobQuake!

Random Information

Six names you go by
1. Martina
2. Mar
3. Emsker
4. Marty
5. Mom
6. Tarmina

Three things you are wearing right now
1. Jeans

2. glasses
3. my wedding ring

Four things you want very badly at this moment
1. my bed
2. coffee
3. a good laugh
4. more innate talent in anything!!

Three people who will answer this
1. You'll have to volunteer. I did.
2.
3.

Two things you did last night
1. Spent time with knitters at the shop

2. Watched the Marriage Ref (not so good last night)

Last two people you talked to on the phone
1. my Mom

2. Jim

Two things you are going to do tomorrow
1. Be a shop keeper
2. teach

Three favourite drinks
1. chai latte
2. tea
3. Mojito

THE RANDOM FACT INGREDIENT
I have a birthmark in the shape of an anchor.

My HD Personality

I am a highly disorganized (HD) person. I don't work very hard at it. It comes naturally I guess.

One of the side effects of being HD is that I often misplace items of some importance. Today, I have misplaced my watch.
My watch is usually on my wrist but last night while I was relaxing watching American Idol (Crystal Bowersoxs rocked it last night!) it began to bother me. It was on the arm that got bashed around yesterday when I fell.
I took it off and put it on the side table. Yes I distinctly remember that.
Once I was off to bed I picked it up to put on my bedside table.
Then....the watch ceases to be in my memory banks.
With Kessie at my heels I stopped off at the computer to check my inbox, went to brush my teeth and hopped into bed.

This morning the watch was not to be found. It was not on the coffee table, not by the computer, not in the kitchen, not in the bathroom and not in the bedroom. (I feel I should be able to write a Dr. Seuss story about it!!) Kessie has been no help at all in the search!
So I am sans watch today.
Not that the watch is an easy one to read anyways...It has no numbers on the dial and I am always guessing as to what number the hour hand is nearest. When someone asks me the time I usually respond with something like.."It is either 5:25 or 6:25." Then I have to go to one of the other timepieces that I have access to for confirmation.
The fact that I have not gone out to get a more appropriate day to day watch is an indication of my HD personality as well is suppose.

Way back when I wrote an entry about my tendancy to pile everything. http://inasknit.blogdrive.com/archive/57.html



I have reformed somewhat but I think this tendancy is an HD symptom as well. (ya think?)

I have tried to be organized I really have! I get containers and make lists and sort and everything! Then, after a few days it all starts to fall apart. I forget which container is for what or I lose my lists and can't remember my sorting categories. Sigh. The best is when I put something away in a really great away spot only to never find that spot again. Like my High School yearbooks which I have been trying to track down for about a month. Out of sight out of mind with me.





In the meantime I still search for my watch. Here is a picture of one like it.

If you happen to see it anywhere let me know please!

Edited to add:

This morning (April 22, 2010) Judy Gerstel has an article in the Toronto Star called Badly Disorganized? Chronically Forgetful? It may be ADD...

I can't find it online yet but it speaks to my issue of being HD!

I've always said that chronic knitters have ADD tendancies!!

I have fallen

...but I have gotten up!

yep...scratches on my arm, twisted left ankle, slightly swollen left foot and a bruise on my right leg and...and...and.... a grass stain on my shoes (I think I will cry now!).

Actually not a bad one this time compared to other times.
I am a frequent faller. I haven't had such a big fall in about a year but it is about once a year I seem to step badly and wipe completely out.

This time ; step up onto first step at shop, foot slips off, right ankle cannot take the load and I have to save my coffee!!! (Yes, the coffee is the most important thing to save isn't it!
Thankfully the lid was on tightly and nary a drop escaped despite being catapulted over the edge and into the garden right side up.)
I go ass over tea kettle!
What amazes me is that I rarely get hurt that badly. I am really good at going with the fall (as long as my coffee is safe) and rolling or bouncing safely to a stop. This time a 70+ lady (who turned out to be a customer) rushed to see if I was ok. Little old ladies are rescuing me now!!

In the past I have broken ribs and an ankle and just basically bruised myself nearly to death.
Good falls of the past include

1. Falling down the basement stairs with my arms at my side taking the brunt with my face and chest. I broke only a rib surprisingly. Looked like I had been beat up bad. I felt so bad for dear hubby because he was interrogated like a criminal.
2. My last fall was in the winter. This one at least is a bit hilarious. I was carrying 2 bags of groceries to the car wearing winter boots that were loose on me and not tied up (stupid). I caught the toe of one boot on the edge of the cement sidewalk block and fell completely onto my front. When I leaped up, telling everyone who witnessed the incident I was ok, my boots were a good 5 feet behind me and my groceries 2 feet in front of me. I think I threw the groceries so I would have my hands free to stop my face from hitting the ground. I was so wishing that someone had caught it on film! How horrifyingly hilarious it must have been to watch!

There are others but I shall not go on....

Yes, I have fallen and I will probably fall again. I think I need to get some iron pills.

But, I'm fine really I'm fine!

(art by Picasso)

The Trees

The Trees

by Philip Larkin (1922 - 1985)

The trees are coming into leaf

Like something almost being said;

The recent buds relax and spread,

Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again

And we grow old? No, they die too.

Their yearly trick of looking new

Is written in the rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh

In fullgrown thickness every May.

Last year is dead, they seem to say,

Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

Photos taken this morning while walking the dog.

This Could Get Addictive!

http://www.bookdepository.com/live

Save me!

Stop All the Clocks

by: W.H. Auden (1907- 1973)


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

The first time I really listened to this poem was during my first (yes, multilple watchings ensued(ing)) viewing of Four Weddngs and a Funeral.

It makes my heart stop everytime.

Poetry Time Again

In Broken Images

by: Robert Graves

He is quick, thinking in clear images;

I am slow, thinking in broken images.

He becomes dull, trusting his clear images;

I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.

Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;

Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.

Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;

Questioning their relevance, I question the fact.

When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;

When the fact fails me, I approve my senses.

He continues quick and dull in his clear images;

I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.

He in a new confusion of his understanding;

I in a new understanding of my confusion.

The Routine of Life

Today I have been noticing the routines of my days.

We all have them.

Most of us accept them most of the time.

Get up, feed the dog/cat, get dressed, go to work, yada, yada, yada.
Ho hum.

I found this quote:

“Voluptuaries, consumed by their senses, always begin by flinging themselves with a great display of frenzy into an abyss. But they survive, they come to the surface again. And they develop a routine of the abyss: ''It's four o clock. At five I have my abyss... ''”
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette quotes (French Writer, 1873-1954)

Today I throw myself into the abyss at 6 and develop that routine. Ought to shake things up a bit.

What is a Voluptuary?

voluptuary : (və-lŭp'chū-ĕr'ē)
n., pl., -ies.
A person whose life is given over to luxury and sensual pleasures; a sensualist: "an adventurous voluptuary, angling in all streams for variety of pleasures" (Thomas De Quincey).


[French voluptuaire, from Old French, from Late Latin voluptuārius, variant of Latin voluptārius, devoted to pleasure, from voluptās, pleasure.]


Hmmm.....I will attempt to more of a voluptuary from this day forward! Should work for at least a few minutes a day don't you think?

Then....back to routine.

The secret of your future is hidden in your daily routine.
Mike Murdock
(Michael Dean Murdock (born April 18, 1946 in Lake Charles, Louisiana, United States) is a televangelist and pastor of the Wisdom Center ministry based in Fort Worth, Texas. )

Or...Not

The less routine the more life.
Amos Bronson Alcott
(Amos Bronson Alcott (November 29, 1799 – March 4, 1888) was an American teacher, writer and philosopher who left a legacy of forward-thinking social ideas.)

One hour and fifteen minutes left!

The Last Laugh

by: John Betjeman (1906-1984)

I made hay while the sun shone.

My work sold,

Now, if the harvest is over

And the world cold,

Give me the bonus of laughter

As I lose hold.

When I see a steamed up window I must draw a smiley face.

Wild Swans

Artist: Harry Clark

Wild Swans

by:Edna St. Vincent Millay

I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.

And what did I see I had not seen before?

Only a question less or a question more;

Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.

Tiresome heart, forever living and dying.

House without air, I leave you and lock your door.

Wild swans, come over the town, come over

The town again, trailing your legs and crying!

Happy Easter

What a beautiful weekend it has been this Easter weekend.

It really seems to be that winter has left us and summer is on its way.

Both of the walks today were strolls of enjoyment for both Kessie and me. This evening's was filled with the scents of barbeques and the sound of birds. Kessie for sure is enjoying all the smells that she is encountering . Even if I wanted to take a brisk walk I probably wouldn't be able to without dragging the girl behind.

So between the sniffing and the peeing on every other blade of grass (yes there is some grass now too) my walk around the block is taking twice as long as normal.

But she is just so damned cute that I bear her no grudge!

We wish you all the best weekend!

April is poetry month....

For my birthday this year my daughter gave me a book and CD of The Great Modern Poets. I have been reading through it lately and have found some I really enjoy.
Since April is poetry month I am going to take some of the posts to share these poems with you.
I love poetry. I love it when it is read to me most of all. When I read poetry to myself I usually have to read it aloud so feel free to read these aloud to yourself or to the people you are with.

Today's poem is by William Carlos Williams (1883-1963). He was a doctor and a poet.

This is just to say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold