May Day

Oh!
(after a week of lousy blood sugar, hellish finances, mystery flu and some sad,disturbing moments with-hate the phrase,but here it is,covers everyone in my life-significant others)
it was Friday! And May Day!
And I had a sudden flash memory: Of making paper cones, filling them with flowers and giving them to parents, friends, neighbors. At least once in my life, I have danced around a maypole and the best memory of all, so dreamlike that I've checked with childhood friends: Did this really happen? Yes, yes it did and it was as enchanting as I recall: waking up some spring morning and finding our lawns covered with wildflowers: tiny snowdrops, dutchman's breeches hiding close to the trees , bluebells. Cherry,apple,pear trees blooming, and a fairy ring (a perfect circle of much darker grass on the lawn,where the fairies had danced.)
A gift, this memory. All these years, it must have been hiding behind bills, arguments, joys, reports, faces and voices.
Waking up, Persephone, warming, sweet rain, hope. Hey! This memory was closer than i thought-I know I wrote a poem about emerging in the spring...
wonder what notebook it's in...

Prime the pump...

Writing, about anything seems to- as every teacher I ever had told me-that writing begats writing begats the wonderful feeling, that need to, want to create.

OR, it could just be my Piscean way of hiding from..you know...life.

Books books books books

Lately, have been reading:
Seven Days In The Art World/Sarah Thornton (library)
The Poet's Notebook/ edited:Kuusisto, Tall, Weiss (library)
A Book of Luminous Things/edited: Czeslaw Milosz (my own; a favorite)
All of This and Nothing/ Christoper Major (this and other of his work free downloads-gotta find links!)

Oh!And Mother Goose, just for fun;illustrations by Blanche Fisher Wright.
Now, (well not now,I'm tired) I want to swoon over Parrish's and Dulac's illustrations)
Past couple years, have been reading almost exclusively (besides poetry), non-fiction: Malcolm Gladwell, Joan Didion, Annie Dillard, Mirth of a Nation, My Mother's Wedding Dress, Perfumes: The Guide, the governments 9/11 report. 2 1/2 times, that one. Finally, Br, P and R asked me to please stop reading it. It was a racous read, what with my frequent shrieks, sputterings, throwing the book across the room and demanding "LISTEN TO THIS!!!!!!!!!!"...followed by semi-coherent rants.

Oh, there's more...Im tired...
Sleep sweet, sweet sleep

oh dear

A jangled weekend. Br,P,R and I each upset about various things and I was no help to them at all.
Br made FOUR peanut-butter cheesecakes. We each ate about a 1/2 of one-not all at once A treat now and then is legal, but I forgot to take insulin Sunday and maybe Saturday night.
Brandon remarked I was acting 'drunk' ( I don't drink). I felt too happy, then too sad and did not make the connection til Monday morning when I awoke disoriented, groggy, not 'right'. Blood sugar was below 80. I feel best when it's between 100-115. I felt like I was going to fall asleep driving from Aurora to Oak Lawn.
Should have gone home, but I went to school, where luckily the diabetes experts took over, God bless them: they are either diabetic or live with someone who is. The nurse followed me home. I had some juice and fell asleep. I'm not hungry. But I do feel better. This was a scary occurrence. I have never forgotten meds before and I've been pretty good at catching the blood sugar drops as soon as it drops. And this cannot happen again.

The magnolia is in full bloom, with petals already on the lawn. Thunderstorms. A dreamy spring.
What am I most worried about lately? Oh, yeah---the mortgage.

I do not heart blogging.

Well, I don't .
This is about blog #5 for me and just like the diaries I tried to keep as a kid, I could not maintain them.
The problem seems to be: what do I want it to be about?
I'm not comfortable with it being a diary-too personal.
The poems are written by hand in various notebooks and don't get on the computer until I'm fairly sure they're done.
My opinions? Op-ed? Essays? Same as with the poetry and who cares what a midwestern, divorced, baby boomer, mother of 2 adult children, sp ed teacher thinks about anything anyway?
Geeeeze...sometimes I can't stand the sound of my own voice and sometimes I can't stand the visual of my own writing...blah blah blah...
So this will be an evolving, experimental blog. Or something like that.