A blow to the body by the Supreme Court.
A night so hot, I arose at 4 a.m. watched TV, made bookmarks, and worked:
moving, organizing, cleaning.
Making pulp.
Surely the Justice League is not for kids.
Black female shape shifter discussed Green Lantern's undies drawer with Hawk Girl, his ex.
I've seen his underwear drawer Hawk Gril reminds his current lady. They just saved each other and the world after being assigned together. Martian Jahn tells Green Lantern that contrary to his opinion, he does not take his love life into consideration when making assignments, but we know better. No better way to bury the hatchet, er, claw or magic mace than into a villain than into each other....
Yeah so not for kids what with partner swapping, and Lex Luthor possessed by Brainiac and a fat Oprah meets Condoleeeza Rice figure whose voice sounds like CCH Pounder, manifesting authoritarian paranoia as the US black ops group (sic)
led by her, clones Supergirl and makes several batches of mindless mutants, for you know, just in case the Justice League goes as rogue as the government, what with their protective floating death ray pointed at the planet.
And pre manifestation of the real devil inside, Lex Luthor strives to use his ill gotten billions to become president.
This all to irk Superman because like those we know too well, he doesn't want to govern, he only wants to rule.
Yes, it comes on too late for kids in school, but it's on the kids channel.....
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Today is eagle day 198 hacked eagles released into the wilds of New York have set up breeding territories and raised young 1988 meant they had sufficient nesting pairs to stop hacking, no more need to hand rear the young. My cat stares. To see an eagle against a powder blue New York sky is a tingling thing. My thanks to those who worked invisibly so hard to restore a balance undone. We need to take a close and serious look at what the future holds. Have we sufficiently protected wild places? I so wanted to buy a bit of wild. A piece of Steuben hill, a glade with a pond. The amazement of where i lived in that 5 minutes from my small city lot I could be at some critter rich expanse. 5 minutes straight up would land me in Oz. The eagle is safe from extinction for the moment. Good things still get done.
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Yesterday was a trip. The old woman Mary leans over and says to me, isn't Brian ( the medical motor services driver) quite a specimen. He's so good looking. She pauses. I don't believe in objectifying people I say coldly and deliberately. She irks me to no end, intruding on my quiet with her inaninity that has now veered to an ugly lust.
I didn't objectify him she protests.
You called him a specimen. I don't like that language I say.
She speaks a bit loudly for conversation, but this i put to her eroding sense of hearing. Later, Brian suggests he heard the whole exchange when he comments from the drivers seat, while the bus is in motion, on something else she has just said to me, something about the bus running on July 4th. Ha! I want to laugh aloud. You imp. So you are letting you know you heard. So doubtless he heard.
My neighbor buddy showed her butt . Late again, not there as the bus was ready to leave, this time I insisted forcefully that we not leave her. That last time I was overridden by another passenger who had insisted that she saw J outside and so J got on another bus. But J said she would only ride with Brian and Brian and we were all packed and she was not there.
C, newly returned from time in the country spelling her sister at her sister's bakery volunteered to go inside and get her. Brian emerged with her grocery cart. packed it on the bus and more minutes pass before J returned. I was pleased that i i had made sure we did not leave her this time and annoyed at what seemed to be an emerging pattern of lateness.... after all all these older old farts and decrepitudes including wheelchair bound me, were packed and strapped on the bus....
why was she tardy?
Anyway that was not the butt showing. The but showing was that she hit me so hard on my leg I felt it... a slow yelp.
So more sensation, but not good sensation and then i realized where she hit me--- on my knee.
What the? I complained but decided not to go off, especially as I had to ponder the sensation. Later, however, I became angry.
What was the context? A flurry of negative anticipations... :"you won't like them, you'll say they suck" this all about something I had not seen. And I asked her to to stop it and then she hit my knee or knees... not sure if it was one or both.
What a drag. This of course is a no win. If I like them, then there is disbelief, If I don't then this is pressure to not render a negative opinion, though she doesn't know me.... this is really incentive for me to say " you're right, these are some whack awful ugly things." But the evolved me, would probably not say anything and just be annoyed at being silenced.
So I've decided a couple of things. One is distance. The other is I pass too well for a well person.
Earlier on the bus, hideous Mary had reached toward me and I was alert and said don't touch.
And she said, O I won't.
But I had seen her put her filthy hands on J's ear lobes and finger her earrings and then have the nerve to ask her how often she cleaned her ears.
When they asked me about earring cleaning, I asked her how often did she clean out her belly button.
Everytime I shower she said .
Well that's how often I clean out and around my earrings.
The presumption is that I can be jostled, jollied, nudged---- meanwhile no one knows or understands what's wrong with me, so how can they think striking me is okay?
They don't think about it at all.
While in the supermarket, contemplating the baked muffins--- I sought pistachio walnut and there weren't any. A kind woman offered to place temptation in a bag for me and we joked about it. An old man said too bad you can't taste it before you buy. I didn't quite hear him at first and he repeated himself. Then having my attention he told me that he had just come form the doctor having made himself sick with grief.
Five young girls died in a head on collision with an SUV here. They had all just graduated from high school. He knew one of them and the grief was putting himself in the place of the father of one of the lost, who was a friend. And it rocked him.
I expressed my condolences and he brought me to near tears and satisfied and saddened he had done so, he thanked me, apologized and bid me adieu.
Now oddly enough he walked by just as the bus arrived outside Wegman's and he approached and began the story again, but without the introductory joke or connection, he just began replaying the tape, grabbing his protruding belly saying where the pain lay.
I told him, you told me this already. I am so sorry for your pain.
It hurts he said.
I know ,I said. Feel better.
Gosh! This is so like my New York City youth. Old people just telling me their stories. Which i don';t remember and didn't even always understand. They still do it!!!! But now I know what they are talking about. NOW I KNOW what they mean.
Why do they still choose me? In the chair, I can actually move further, faster away, LOL!
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Clearing out under the sink, mainly to get the vat i knocked against the pipe and it sprang a leak. It was a huge accident waiting to happen. The hole revealed a totally rusted curved. Thing is, the office told me someone would be here immediately. 3 hours, and the need to empty bladder and feed myself later, no one appeared. I called left a message of anger and complaint, not so much the lack of immediacy but the failed expectation..... it's not like any motion away from ready to answer the door can return to ready with any speed... A half hour to pee. An hour to eat.....Solution
put a sign on the door.
Anyway late afternoon the heat finally dissipates. And there is a small bit of homecooked sumptuous made possible by splendid summer. Vine ripened grape tomatoes, tossed in the pan to add sweetness to the fried onion, garlic, basil,garlic salt, pepper, fresh uncut but trimmed lengths of sweet green beans, covered juices of plant succulences. This to moisten the crab fritters, whose batter I made yesterday, but could not bring myself to endure more heat. The tiny hand rolled balls puffed and while delicious, it was not quite the effect I was striving for..... next time add more stuff
to the batter--scallions, red pepper-- yes that's the ticket.
Anyway, this was the sweet redemption of yesterday's trial. Wondrous munchies: wasabi peas, dates,
akmak crackers, hummus, vanilla soymilk for my coffee, an almond croissant for breakfast, ginger beer for dinner and the ability to do a simple saute, even though wheel chair bound.
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Another gallery I had work in has closed. Today I got a call from a woman asking me how i would collect my work. It was still the hot hard moment when I was yelling at the cats for being under wheel,too close and cloying.... Anyway I almost cried, another reminder of what I've lost... and more to lose.
She asked me about my job. I told her Iost it as a result of my condition and told her about my condition and also how I didn't even know where to have her send stuff. Home? I'm not there to collect it. Here? Where would I put it...
And she was so so kind to say she would watch it and call me again in August. I did nicely at the gallery, I believe I sold most of what I brought to them and might have sold more, had I been able to replenish the objects....
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I so want to go home and make things. I reach for tools that are not here..... my lost to me friend has yet to return the moulds and deckles I lent her, her final act of petulance. She had offered to return the stuff six weeks ago, now. since I had said to leave it in the office, refusing to put myself through another one of her non appointment drama ( she's stood me up 4 times, and is always late or early, never at the agreed upon time) I sadly do not have my best tools at hand. Still, I have
a small M&D and cooked everything I had been saving in the refrigerator and spent hours blendering and rinsing and tomorrow I will venture down to the community room and pull some sheets.
Today, just to play with pulp, I cast some houses, All the little tricks to remember. How wet the pulp should be, how to then layer and extract the water, with screen and sponge..... the thin layer of vaseline on the mould, finger on, swiped of.... ahh.....
And then I remembered how fond i was of methylcellulose for my pulp. and how i don't have any.....
so this will be my first waterleaf in a long time...
may i heal,
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