The Marathon journey is in its fourth year. Just Enjoy Yourself is the current incarnation. Let’s do it!
On June 4 the Marathon left home. We had a vicious storm yesterday with winds of 75+ MPH. Our area was hard hit and trees on every street uprooted or split or splintered. One of these toppled electrical wires for my house. The electricity has been off 24+ hours and given the number of outages and the need to cut or remove trees at almost every break, I estimate it will be out for 4 days.
No scientific method here, just my guess. So part of today, my husband and I went to his office, which is still closed, and usually he works from home anyway, but today there was no other option with electricity. We will staying in a hotel tonight and I have resigned myself to the loss of all the food in the freezer I have been carefully preparing and stockpiling these three months past.
I am grateful our house is fine and also that it is not a cold winter outage when we need to worry about the pipes.
As I mentioned earlier this week, I’m not in a writing mood, but it seems important to try.
I’ve been rereading some old favorite books. One is called Miss Pinkerton, by Mary Roberts Rinehart. I took a couple of sentences at random from the book to spark a little bit of writing.
I only did three poems today. Here is one:
…but you came up the stairs. You remember. You screamed.
Mercy what a racket you made! Now look what you made me do!
Thus rebuked and responsible for
the clang-slosh of the pail of dirty water hurtling down the stairs
(and I was sure there were others jolted too: I thought I heard
the startled skitter of cockroach feet on the wood floor
rushing to escape behind a baseboard)
The uproar died down
I let the insects be and tried to focus on what she was saying:
How you startled me and now look
what a first-class mess this carpet is. Come here.
Watch that squelchy area.
(Grabs my arm and pulls me.)
Tell me what’s the matter
her eyes focus on mine for a moment
in a suspicious way I don’t like. Tell me
she gives vicious squeeze to my forearm
near my elbow
that I knew would leave a bruise
She says it
Very calm very quiet
very much ready to take it further.
I tell her.
Here is a shadorma chain:
rings in the kitchen
the cook shrieks
the cake falls
the mop slithers in soap suds
the bucket chuckles
the pot blinks
at another slap
of green goo
dish soap. Bzzzz
the bell shouts. Chaos stands up
to answer the door.
I hope everyone is feeling well and in good spirits.
Thank you for reading!