So much blogable in this life and do I even bother? I am extremely busy being recycled. My daughter is pregnant and so my genes are having a party inside her. She has a site that sends her vegetal graphics of how big the baby is. We have been through lentil, blueberry, grape, kumquat (when do we think of kumquats?), fig, something, something, and now we are mango. I can't recall if avocado comes before or we are on our way to avocado. You understand, I am doing nothing but thanking God I am old and not pregnant and praying gently. Her husband is off on an elk hunt and they have moved from the yurt to the wilds of far off Española. I find out the house is one where my friend Camilla Trujillo lived until age 13. I want to rush right over and check for the lines on the doorframe that charted Camilla and her siblings. My Pittsburgh friend visiting has no sympathy as his three grandsons are in Kenya.
But besides being a totally codependent mother of the pregnant daughter, I literally recycled and sold at Recycle Santa Fe. Here is what I was up to for the last year. I didn't keep records but I am sure I have topped 200 of these Poemholders. I make two almost daily, and for the show in 100% recycled fabrics.
My other daughter made wrist cuffs and cool belts, sort of like a half miniskirt, out of leather scraps. We had a great time, sold a lot, and I bragged that I wasn't even tired. Then I did go into total fatigue days later and have been milking the time change, going to bed before dinner. The time change is great. I am recycling time. I use it and then use it again, and then I still have some hours I can use. Right now I found the time to do this blog when there are chickens still on daylight savings time waiting to be fed. Get a watch, I tell the roosters.
But really this is how to recycle a poet laureate when the laurels (nobody bothered to wreathe me in) fade. I have no idea how I am doing but I have a clue. I weathered the Mayor's Award dinner and was happy to talk with current PL Jon Davis and hear him read. Then a few days later Carolyn came up to me on Lincoln near Marcy, mere blocks from city hall, and said, "Didn't you used to be somebody?"
It was the best thing anybody had said to me. It made me laugh at how true it was. I always start Joan and the Giant Pencil
readings with, "I'm nobody, who are you? Are you nobody too?" Emily knows how I am feeling without even leaving Amherst or even being alive.
When my metamorphosis is complete into Nobody, or I am transmogrified as Emily likes to say, I will let you know. Until then I am watching my daughter beautify in pregnancy, waiting to taste the elk from the hunt, sewing Poemholders, and pretending that Nobody is what I always wanted to be. I think I will go recycle some kitchen scraps into egg production and send you lots of hand-me-down second-hand love.
Oh so fun!!ReplyDelete
Well, thanks to my friend Michelle who used to work at the Ocha food coop with me in the early 80's, and who bought, sold and ate kumquats, I do think of them. I would like to share my poem called Belly Reality that I wrote when CB was expanding my membranes - in that I compare her size to a shoe. I would have much preferred the fruit and vegetable idea! When my sis and I were little, all our troll dolls had fruit and vegetable names - Onion was the dad and Lemon was the mom - Pickle the older brother and Raspberry the baby daughter - and also little Lemon. Yes, there were handed-down names.
So amazingly joyful and in sync your tale of your life. Yay, I say, for post-PL-dom!