Monday Musings

Today is Kwe’s first day at doggie school. I think I (sort of) understand how parents feel when they drop their kids off at school the first day. I’ve been thinking about him all day, but I haven’t gotten any phone calls, so I assume he’s doing fine.

Mac Update: Our computer problems are only getting worse. In addition to not recognizing the battery, now the back light for the screen doesn’t work. We’re going to pay the $280 to send it to Apple.

This is pretty cool.

Your fall poem for the week:

Underwater Autumn
Now the summer perch flips twice and glides
a lateral fathom at the first cold rain,
the surface near to silver from a frosty hill.
Along the weed and grain of log he slides his tail.

Nervously the trout (his stream-toned heart
locked in the lake, his poise and nerve disgraced)
above the stirring catfish, curves in bluegill dreams
and curves beyond the sudden thrust of bass.

Surface calm and calm act mask the detonating fear,
the moving crayfish claw, the stare
of sunfish hovering above the cloud-stained sand,
a sucker nudging cans, the grinning maskinonge.

How do carp resolve the eel and terror here?
They face so many times this brown-ribbed fall of leaves
predicting weather foreign as a shark or prawn
and floating still above them in the paling sun.

Richard Hugo

Thursday Musings

In Those Years
In those years, people will say, we lost track
of the meaning of we, of you
we found ourselves
reduced to I
and the whole thing became
silly, ironic, terrible:
we were trying to live a personal life
and, yes, that was the only life
we could bear witness to

But the great dark birds of history screamed and plunged
into our personal weather
They were headed somewhere else but their beaks and pinions drove
along the shore, through rages of fog
where we stood, saying I

~Adrienne Rich

This is a surreal day. We are happy to move on and live our lives, but at the same time that sense of “moving on” seems like a betrayal. This incident is no longer front page news, and if it is, it is at the bottom, encapsulated in a tiny graphic of a memorial tribute. So where were you seven years ago today? Can it really be seven years? Remembering is the most important thing we can do.
I’m glad this week is almost over. The beginnings of exhaustion are setting in…

Mac Update: took the computer to the Apple store. Waited for a half an hour for the tech guy to tell us that there wasn’t much he could do (shocking) and that we could pay $280 to send it out, so the other “tech people” can fix it. We’re exploring our options.