skunk, death, dishes

the dishes have been sitting there for days. i need to do them. this will be brief.

last night my dogs barked for hours, chasing a skunk. i couldn't see see the skunk, could only smell it when i awoke at 1:15 AM and walked dazed into my living room. the smell was so strong i feared it might be inside...i went back to bed. if i messed with the dogs, i might get skunked, and i didn't have time to do all that stuff like scrub with limestone or whatever you do, or rent an ozone machine if it came in the house like my boss had to do when her dogs fought a skunk and in her panic she let them inside and bathed them, only to have them shake their coats and spatter skunk smell on the walls. when i woke and rose way too late this morning, the smell was gone. a relief beyond words. the beauty lay dead in the driveway, his (her?) coat so glossy, tail so full...and so black, so white: no dull brown-black patches, no muddied stripe - black and white like a tux, like Pepi le Pew. and not chipmunk-sized, but big like a cat. polecat: the word makes sense now. i wish i had paused longer with my garbage-bag-clad hand holding his/her stiff body, paused longer to take in the teeth, nose, and ears, and the patterned back, thick perfect fur. but i had already overslept, and i was late for work. 

tonight don, the head of our neighborhood association, a retired school administrator who lives down the road with his second wife doris, called me on my cellphone and left a message to tell me that my nearest (and, in fact only) neighbors' son had died last night. he was 19. he just wanted me to know in case i had been aware of the extra traffic on the road (i hadn't - i was probably asleep). it might have been his heart; there are rumors about drugs. they're sending the body off for an autopsy. don will send an email but not until he knows more. 

the kid graduated from high school two years ago with don's son and was living at home and working. his dad drives the sanitation truck for the town in the next county. my mom made a point of meeting the family after i first moved in, telling them her daughter was moving into the place that used to be called Betty's Folly. i was supposed to follow up by going over to introduce myself. i had plans of bringing cookies or a plant. i never did. 

i met the son once, or his brother, i'm not sure which. they were both post-high school, a year or two apart. i stopped when we passed on the road to ask if he'd seen one of my dogs that had gotten out. i asked about their black dog with the white chest that always used to chase my car. (they don't have a fence). he said the dog had just disappeared one day. probably hit by a car, i thought, but didn't say it. i told him i was sorry, and that i was sorry too that i hadn't come over to introduce myself. he said he and his family were all busy working anyway. he said he'd keep an eye out for my dog. 

the moon hangs low tonight.

i got dishes to do.

 

pizza-cook-time haiku

There's a Kashi roasted garlic & chicken pizza in the oven and about 12 minutes to go till it's toasty and ready to eat. Let's see how many haiku I can write before the timer goes off.

Focusing on the seasonal:

**

Feasting (Mimi)

Chestnut stuffing,  roast

turkey, a son on each side;

thin husband shakes salt.

**

Christmas Aprons (Granny)

Did you wear these? No.

Too sequined, too transparent.

I'll wear them someday.

**

Water Skis (Mimi)

Frank and the boys walk

on water. You wait shorebound,

queen of lemonade.

**

Mountain Laurel (Granny)

No need for beaches.

This humming path, this bloom-shade:

All the June you need.

**

OK, the timer went off after line 1 of the previous haiku, but the pizza isn't done, so i'll keep going!

**

Millionaire Pie (Mimi)

No-bake, filled with chunks

of canned pineapple. Graham crust.

Your apartment pie.

**

Stained Glass Windows (Granny)

Pink marshmallow roll

robed in chocolate, chilled and sliced.

Much more fun than church.

**

Pizza eaten. I recommend that pizza! Better crust than most, tender, nice garlic flavor. I realize nobody's reading this and probably won't. But it is a good pizza! Go Kashi.

**

I want to live in New York, where Jersey guys go running in central park and talk about girls and restaurants, and say things like "They got a good steak."

**

Découpage (Mimi)

Flatten the still life,

the farmhouse, the copper mine;

coat them in thick glue.

**

Basket (Granny)

Split oak ribbons, bound

tightly, then fanning 

out, unwoven, free.

OK, that's eight plus the first two - ten! Halfway done.

I am glad for this exercise. Good practice. Simple, clear, regulated by subject and syllables. Much to do now - email, grant application, dishes! - more soon. Or tomorrow.

Hmm.

w

 

skipped a day!

Ok, back on track tonight - despite exhaustion and needing to many more obligatory things, from washing dishes to emailing to washing the dog - my most recent rescue, a pale yellow lab/retriever mix, formerly Copper, newly named Bowie, with a sweet disposition (and giant black balls - he'll be neutered soon!) - i was feeling ridiculous for responding to the ad online but the story killed me. (a mom had abandoned the dog along with her developmentally disabled teenage son when her husband died and she left to get remarried - the boy's aunt knew the dog needed more attention and didn't want him to go to the shelter, for fear of him being euthanized because he was so skittish) - but i feel he is meant to be with me. the woman who posted the notice about him said she could barely "catch" him while he was living on her property - but here he is easy, if a bit high-strung, and was out of the fence tonight but in the driveway waiting for me. ran right up to me as i opened the car door and put his face in my hands. Oh my. Number six. I have a feeling he's meant to be here for a while and then move on to the "right" place - we'll see. 

Aretha the cat sits with her broad black copper-flecked back to me, peering over her shoulder every once in a while to eye me with slitted yellow eyes. After 2 months here and numerous adjustments, she still disdains the litterbox and poops or pees only on the bed, or the sofa, whatever soft surface is available - that is, whatever soft surface where I sit or sleep. I've set up a very comfy wire dog crate in the living room, lined the bottom with an area rug and soft mattress pad. I figured I could wash that more easily than a mattress or upholstered cushion... but while Lily the tortoiseshell has lolled in it ecstatically and Chaton the ragdoll has curled up and made a corner his own, Aretha won't go there. Period. Only human furniture for her. The gal has standards. 

Yes, ok, but so do I - and among them is a house where I, and others, can sit and sleep without clothespinning our noses. What to do. I am loath to shell out the $75 for an animal psychic, but I'm about there. Haven't solved this on the physical plane, i might as well try the telepathic.

And now, some haiku. But first (and I really do think this is self-education rather than procrastination) I realize I need to learn a bit more about them. I know there's more to traditional haiku than the five-seven-five syllable structure I learned in 3rd grade - and now thanks to wikipedia i know a bit more about what that more is and can be. Haiku almost always contain kigi, words to suggest the seasons....there's a more complicated word starting with K that helps create a pause at the end of the first or second line, depending, but this fits more into the Japanese form because English words don't do that so well. So we often use a dash. 

Falling asleep. Big haiku catchup tomorrow 

 

 

Galley Kitchen

This narrow spot is 

what you wanted. For ease.

Nobody else fits.

The Haiku Challenge

Alright. Here I am, posting again, with just 8 minutes left in the day...and the generous hard-ass Katey Schultz has already commented and challenged me, taking my example of a potential goal as a literal and immediate one: 20 haiku, this week, go! OK then. I'll do it. Thank you Katey! In my example, I said they would be about my grandmother - as is the one I just posted, 700 Club, about my dad's mom at the end of her life...I think I'll stay on that tack for a while, if not for all 20. But I think I'll complicate it and deepen it a bit by alternating grandmothers. Which means I have 5 minutes to write one about my mother's mother - here goes.

700 Club

Pillow-propped, heavy,

soft, you nod with God, embraced

and bereft. Amen.

Number One

Here I am. Finally.

Why?

To practice writing, thinking, reflecting.

10-30 minutes a day. 

The rule is: there are no rules.

There can be structure, i.e. writing prompts, and there can be goals, i.e. I WILL complete twenty haiku about my grandmother by the end of this week.  But there are no rules. 

I don't know who you are, dear reader, or really, whether you will exist at all -- and I don't know what to ask or expect from you, but I do know that knowing you are there will help spur me on in my effort! And I know that I will appreciate your feedback. 

So 

Thank you for reading (whoever you may be)

in advance.