APW

I've written better poems, but this one is a milestone for me.  I haven't been able to write about my grandma's illness up until now.  This is without the edits and suggestions from my classmates.

Hydrocephalus

She wasn’t born this way,

my grandmother,

water trying to drown her brain,

shrinking her lower to the ground,

embarrassing her, she says.

She wasn’t like this when I was a child,

slow-moving, forgetting and twisting

words, ingredients.  She was forceful, 

smashing potato bugs with knotty fingers, 

sweating in the garden, thanking precious 

Jesus for each breeze.

She used to know every bird by song,

quiz me on them.

Whippoorwill, Cardinal, Killdeer.

Now she asks me to slow down while I’m 

speaking.  

We filled birdbaths and plastic jugs

with metallic well water,

the way her body fills her brain.

We got chicks at the post office in spring

and mucked the barn and coops in our rubber 

shoe covers every humid summer.

I moved to a bigger city and she fell 

on her way to feed turkeys.

Perhaps thats when she smashed the dam

holding the water at bay, 

keeping it from flooding her brain.

I try to remember how she was

when she didn’t need indifferent doctors 

with accents and possible solutions. 

I try not to forget

she wasn’t born this way.

Dreaming again

I've got a poem due in a few hours that I haven't started writing yet.  So naturally, I'm Pinterest-ing.  Duh.

I've been thinking about weddings a lot lately.  We loved our simple, intimate one, but I'd still really like to celebrate with family and friends.  You know, find a barn in the middle of nowhere, and trim it in white string lights and antlers.  Then, get some mismatched chairs or hay bales and a dj...serve pb&j and some booze.  I'd wear my $30 dress again and cowboy boots and have bridesmaids this time.  It sounds perfect and less stressful than many celebrations I've been to.

I've already go invitations picked out to imitate.



Everyone could read this on a chalkboard (or something) upon entering.

From a photographer's website:

“First, a word.

This is a celebration.  This is not a sit on your hands, wait for it to be over, wondering what the readings mean wedding.  This is a stand up and cheer wedding.  This is a clap your hand joyous wedding.  This is a day that you are a part of because you are awesome people and this is an awesome couple.  and we’re to hoot and holler about that.  So please feel free to be as joyful and raucous as you’d like.  in fact, it is encouraged.

That being said, a thank you is in order.  Thank you for being here.  Thank you for the miles you have traveled and for making the choice to come today to celebrate.  To support.

To love.

Your presence here is not taken lightly.  You were invited to bear witness to this day because you are an integral part of this story.  You are family, you are friends.  You were there in those first months.  You saw the glimmer.  The spark in their eyes as they spoke of the other.  “this is the one” they said.  And over a glass of wine.  Or on a cross country phone call.   Or an email from a world away.  You said “yes. And I couldn’t be happier for you.””

And then we'd start the party.

Heck yes.

hm. maybe.

                                                                         Dreamy.

It'd be fun to stencil chalkboard paint like this (instead of the stickers they used) then people could just label their glasses.

I like the idea of the basins instead of a bar.

Yes.

Only less formal.

Change

Last Thursday I made a few important (maybe insane) decisions.  For my American Short Story class, we had to read The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.  Reading the story before class made me sick to my stomach.  When we began to discuss it, the feeling came back tenfold.  I feel guilty (good job, Ursula! you succeeded.) about the entire situation.  We are all informed of the awful things that happen in the world, at some time or another.  Sometimes it takes films like Blood Diamond to reach certain people, but there aren't many adults in our society who are unaware of horrendous situations around the world.  

My professor started out by saying, "I don't know who made these jeans, but I can bet it wasn't an adult."  That hit home for me and when he started explaining that his wife's best friend from the east coast decided, along with her husband, to only purchase American-made products, a light went on.  They have successfully purchased clothing, gifts and anything else they may have needed since January first of 2012, that was made in America.  I realize our country isn't perfect, but we have to start somewhere and promoting products that aren't made by impoverished children chained to sewing machines is a good place to begin.  I am a little ashamed to say that I used to think, "Well if it's that bad for the adults working in those places, they can leave.  They have minds, they can decide to change their lives."  The fact is that most of them don't; and I got a pretty severe reality check in taking the opportunities in this country for granted.

I don't want to sound preachy, but I'm hoping to enlighten someone else, who may have had the same mind sets.  

The second big decision I made is to not eat meat if I don't know exactly where it came from.  Adam and I are lucky enough to have aunts and uncles with family farms.  Venison is my exception; it's not like people pump a bunch of growth hormones into deer.  It will be fairly easy for us to make this a habit (the eating out part will be much harder).  It seems as though all mass produced food is much different than we think.  All of the fillers and chemicals used make it a pretty scary things.  We should really know what we're putting into our bodies.  I watched Food, Inc for the second time on Thursday night.  While it's obviously a biased documentary, it doesn't take much to prove their point.  Something to think about, anyway.

I've been doing well so far with both changes.  If I can't find something I think I need that's made here, I convince myself I don't need it.  I have been having a little bit of trouble with the meat end of things.  All I want is bacon when I work, but I just remind myself that as soon as I get to a butcher, I'll have some.  I think it'll be cool to look back on this post in a year and see what I stuck to and what else has changed.