Good news!

Good news, BB just called to say he will NOT be laid off today! (This
is him at the Zoo last Saturday.)

I am working on the Geraldine Ms and have posted a brand new poem and
a revision to Half-formed. Making progress, however slow.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

I hope you have a SPOOKTACULAR EVENING (and a great day too!)

BB's meeting

There's another round of layoffs scheduled for this weekend at GM. BB applied to work through the layoffs. Some people are just being let go permanently. There's a meeting tomorrow morning and we'll find out his fate. He says he's not worried. I am, a little. Eep.

Detail from Women are from Venus

Women are from Venus. A small, limited-palette pastel sketch in Tami's sketchbook for sketchbook exchange. See the whole picture here. Also, if interested, see sketch in progress here.

Sounding the Sea, an Elegy for Donna

Sounding the Sea, an Elegy for Donna

I.
My husband scorches me with his skin, so hot
I often turn away and gasp, throw off the covers. But not
tonight. Tonight, I cling to him, savoring his heat, the touch
of his body along the length of mine, the reassuring
scent of his flesh. I think of you, suddenly gone
from the world, from my life, from yourself
and your earthly body, from your grieving husband
and children, and remember how you loved,
so lustfully, so heartily. How happy you had finally
become, with Terry, with your remodeled home,
with you new lean body, with your life. Happy.
Pleased with your 900-pound moose, all that food
a year's worth, maybe. And the next day, your aneurysm
and stroke, your coma. The waiting. The agonizing
of family and friends, the hopes rising and falling. Finally,
the letting go. The tears. How intelligent you were,
how funny. Hilarious. The stories you told!
You held us spellbound. Your heart was so big that we all
found a home inside. You could sound the deepest ocean
with the depth of your caring. But you turned into a tiger
when your children were threatened. Attacked evil
with a shovel and a strong arm. Farm woman, Jill
of all trades, keeper of pigs, chickens, dogs, cats, a cow.
You lived at the edge of the world, the edge of the forest,
the end of the country. Beyond you, there was nothing,
and now nothing has moved in, leaving a gaping hole.

II.
My husband scorches me with his skin, so hot
I often turn away and gasp, throw off the covers.
I think of Terry, his sorrowing arms empty of you, I think of you,
no longer able to lie beside him, and wonder if angels
remember and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.
Oh, how in dreams I turn to love! How hard the table feels,
bruising my knuckles. How wet the water, drowning me,
until I wake in terror. How cold the snow. How precise
the dreaming mind can be, amidst the flight and the fantastic,
how solid can be flesh, and warm, and hungry. Eager.
Can you feel his arms and ours, do you, out there beyond, dream
of him, of us, as we dream of you?

Mary Stebbins Taitt
081026-0949-1st

I do not usually post my poems to No Polar Coordinates, but to Half-formed. But I wanted to post this one because a dear friend just died and I wanted to share my grieving (since no one ever goes to half-formed.) This is a FIRST DRAFT, so it is not ready for critical examination yet.

A Card From Blue Rose

YAY! I got this cool card from Blue Rose. I feel loved and
appreciated! THANKS Blue Rose. Wahoo!

Piano Boy, practicing

Biker Buddy took this last night.

Off to Homecoming

Piano Boy is off to his first Homecoming Dance. This was after BB helped PB tie his tie. He's wearing his Dad's shirt, tie and jacket becasue he didn't tell us he needed them until the eleventh hour when it was too late to get any. Biker Buddy took this picture--we're lucky to have it at all because PB doesn't like to have his picture taken.

First frost, bullets of weird green

It's 34 degrees outside and we had our first frost. I brought in most of the houseplants, but not all of them, and I did not cover the tomatoes, zucchinis and other garden plants, so I will have to wait and see if they survived or are gone. The broccoli should make it.

• We haven't turned our furnace on yet. I don't think it's that cold in here, but PB has been complaining bitterly. He stands in his boxers saying it's cold, it's cold. I say, when I am cold, I put on a sweater. He hangs over me, gets in my face while I am trying to work, harping on turning on the furnace. He wants it to be warm enough to be as close to naked as possible. I think that's unenvironmental and unhealthy. I tell him, go talk to your Dad.
• PB wants a ride to school because it's cold outside. I say, wait til it snows. We live in a decadent neighborhood where most of the parents drive their kids to school every day. We think it's unhealthy and unenvironmental to do that and have decided not to. He thinks we're monsters. I feel a little guilty until I think of all the wasted gas and him turning into a lazy slug.
• In the spirit of reduce, reuse, recycle, I have reduced my usage of shampoo and conditioner to about a third of what I used to use and the results seem to be just as good. YAY!
  

From the Poetry Retreat I just attended

Here we all are.

If you click on it, you can make it bigger. Can you find me?

Bennie McBean Goes FIshing

This is just a doodle.

I am back from my Poetry Festival and my writing retreat but still trying to get caught up.

About to fly

Headed out shortly for my four-day writing retreat. Have a great four days if I can't check in. (And even if I can!)

Today I posted to Detroit Daily and also posted the UP journal in its entirety to Half-formed. (Because I was up all night with insomnia.)

Wordless Wednesday

Flower Photo Friday on Wednesday

No time for real posting. I was awarded a partial scholarship to a writing retreat, Springfed, and am getting ready to head up to Harbor Springs Michigan for lots of writing. Yay! This is one of my flowers--a zinnia, and I hope it's still here when I get back. I know it has to frost sometime. But I am NOT in a rush!

Away message

I am leaving tomorrow at some undetermined point to drive to Harbor Spring Michigan for a writer's retreat.  I got a partial scholarship--YAY!  I may not be posting until I return Monday.  I expect to be very busy retreating.

Sugary (Cotton Candy)

Sugary (Cotton Candy), by Mary Stebbins Taitt, for Illustration
Friday's Sugary Challenge. In Sketchboook, from sketchbook exchange,
pen and ink. (Ooops, I accidentally posted this to the wrong blog! Duh, meant to post it to Imagik, my main art blog.) (OK, forgive the repetition in this instance.)

Waterloo Village Bridge

Waterloo Village, Stanhope, NJ. This is where I spent 4 of the last 8 days--at the Dodge Poetry Festival. See another view of this bridge here. You might be surprised of you did not look closely.

Four

Let's Play Four

A) Four places that I go to over and over:  to the grocery store, to bed, around the block (for exercise), to the fridge/stove (for food).

B) Four people who email me regularly:  Pam, Gail, D1 and D2

C) Four of my food favorites:  spring rolls (the NOT-fried kind),  Biker Buddy's Homemade Spaghetti, my omelets, calamari

D) Four things I'd like to do:  publish a poetry manuscript, publish a young adult novel, publish a children's picture book, publish an adult novel (all written and maybe illustrated) by me.

E) Four people I think will respond: John C, Pam, Gail?  OK, I can only think of three. 

F) Four things you did yesterday:  drove from Syracuse to Detroit, hiked alone at Rock Glen Provincial Park in Ontario Canada, Took pictures of a waterfall, climbed a cliff with no assistance of any kind (no trail, ropes, handholds, pitons etc).  (AK!)

G) Four things you hate:  cleaning house, dealing with  bills, mail, banking (UGH!)

I was tagged by Bea Bittermann and I tag John C and anyone else who wants to play along.