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Sunday, June 29, 2008
Another pic from last year, my "Flapper Tapper." To
heck with $400 portrait sessions, the best photos of Kelly are all ones I've taken myself.
7:55 am
Why I Don't Go To Yardsales
I used to live
for yardsales until 1994 when a rabid collie bit my ankle as I was inspecting the finest in used Tupperware.
I
ended up in the hospital over that bite and my ankle was severely deformed thereafter, causing my husband to lose interest
in me, if ya know what I mean. (Bob had fallen in love with me for my well-turned ankles.) I tried wearing attractive scarves
to camouflage my gross disfigurement, some even with bells on them, but apparently I was damaged goods and Bob ran off with
a donut maker from Reno, made no difference to him she was a deaf-mute with a constant neck tic - she did have lovely ankles.
Well... no man wanted anything to do with me ever again and I considered going gay but just couldn't make
the leap. Of course I lost my job as a capri pants model, wasn't trained in any other work and ended up losing my house.
My cat had trouble locating to a studio apartment and ran off too.
And here I am, spending all my time on the Internet.
Just me, my disability check, a photo of my cat and this slow computer which will probably Blue Screen any day now.
And that's why I don't go to yardsales, as much as I could use a second plate, cup, knife, fork and spoon, in case
I can ever do make a friend and have them over for water and dry toast.
7:32 am
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Bach
Inside my little Toyota
a forest
of violins rejoicing.
6:47 am
Thursday, June 26, 2008
2:49 pm
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
SCRATCH
I went down to the store
and asked the girl for a box of scratch but she didn't know what I meant so I said, "Well, I wanna make
a cake from scratch." And she said, "Go home and drink another beer." So I did.
So, at home I went online and asked the Wordpress support guy for some scratch to build my new blog but
he too told me to go drink more beer. So I did.
Later I went to sleep and dreamt of kit-bashing
a Bachmann center cab switcher.
10:07 am
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
DOING IT
Mission
Blue Host successful. Project Real-Blog on track.
No, but seriously,
I'm pretty sure I'll be able to do the new site with COMMENTS myself, or at least I'm gonna to have a dang
good whack at it myself. Feelin' so good I think I'll write a reasonable facimile of
a poem Right Now, which will most likely suck, but what the heck. I'm too happy to shiv a git. Ah-hem...
If you see a guy at the
mall with a pistol in one
hand and a soda in the other,
I
won't be at all offended if you
assume it's not an all-natural soda.
(See,
told ya it would suck.)
(But Kelly's self-portrait doesn't.)
11:50 am
Monday, June 23, 2008
Real As Rain
Shame
I was at a fried chicken
place, empty except for me, a young Asian girl and a well-dressed middle eastern terrorist.
A leather-faced woman walked in, asked for a cup of ice water and sat facing me, three tables away.
She had only two visible teeth.
I suddenly became very interested in something out the window.
Without being asked, the terrorist offered the homeless woman $5 to get herself something to eat.
She bought a small bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy.
Later when she came to me, the
Christian, for "sugar" I gave her a dollar.
12:33 pm
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sometimes it's inconceivable I have a daughter who's six. Inconceivable I
have a daughter at all. I'll be in the diningroom or bedroom and she in the livingroom and I'll think to myself,
"Has this all been just a dream," and I'll run to check and see if she's real. And there she'll
be. Real as rain. Reading or watching t.v. or eating or something, this girlchild wedging herself ever
deeper into the space love made for her.
2:42 pm
Friday, June 20, 2008
Hey, where'd my favorite pen go?
9:02 pm
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Perming Of The Bangs  Yes, that's my head and yes I perm my bangs every few months or so.
(I really do.)
11:54 pm
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Gilda toted papers in a denim bag because who else was going to clean
up handbills the Party kept posting on the poles and sides of falling-down buildings? Who else was going to bring
porridge to the orphanages and Jesus to the poor? Who else cared? Gilda never married but when she died
at 98 I was surprised to find the following among her scattered writings in a shoebox on her top
shelf...
Today
I burned
the poem
I've been
keeping
in my
wallet,
the one
I wrote
to you
last year
but never
sent.
This may
or may not
take away
a
longing.
10:26 pm
Monday, June 16, 2008
Fathers' Day, Dying Camera
9:35 am
Sunday, June 15, 2008
10:04 am
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Is Blood Thicker Than A Longlost Daughter?
Suppose
I show up with a knock on an Irish door someday
and an old man dressed in grey flannel pyjamas and a red
tassel
cap answers it. He may be holding an apple or a
lilac in his left hand. And suppose he confirms
his name
is Tom or Dick or Harry Eady and I tell him I've just spent
two days at his National Archives after
extensive Internet
research and I believe it's more than probable He and His
are relatives of Me
and Mine from a hundred and seventy
years past when what's-their-names sailed to Canada.
And suppose looking into his face is like looking into Dad's
face or Dad's dad's or his
dad's and all their uncles and
brothers I've ever met or seen photos of, but this old guy
is 87
and very hard of hearing and thinking I've just asked
for the the loo, slams the door in my face. And
suppose
I knock again and his daughter peeks through the door's
window and yells for me to scram
(because there's been a
rash of burglaries in the neighborhood lately,) or she'll call
the authorities.
And suppose I lurk in the bushes outside
their modest white and green shuttered house until she
emerges near sunset
and I dog her along the sidewalk
entreating her that I am her and she is me, and as she
finally stops for
a moment to realize that our distinctive
jawlines and strangely-angled yet attractive eyes seem
one-in-the-same,
our cheeks' with the inherited tendency
not to sag, our eyes crow's-footed from years of feeling joy
and sorrow too deeply, too fast, we both fall into glorious
laughter and tears. And suppose she invites
me in for tea
and we cackle about how all the friends and relatives both
here and back across The Pond will
be so excited, we'll have
to have big celebratory parties and probably get written up
in all the papers, plus tonight
we'll go down to the pub where
I'd been directed here from and won't they all be so amazed.
And she'll start calling her daughter and everyone she knows.
And suppose the news of who I am and how I've
traced him
over hundreds of years and thousands of miles, is too much
for the old man, he's so happy he
has a heart attack and dies
on the spot. Will I still be one of the family or a stranger then?
Guess I'll
just have to mosey over to County Cork to find out.
4:30 am
Friday, June 13, 2008
10:43 am
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Shoulda sprung for the $129.99 E-Sensor
Collar instead of buying all that gas and those groceries.
It's hard teaching an old
cat new tricks. If only
he knew he has just to push lightly on the new
catdoor with his cute little
tufted head, he'd
burst from the wardrobe to the snowy woods
of Narnia, or to anywhere else he wanted
--
Squirrel heaven. Mouse island. Birdfest.
Kind of defeats the purpose of me installing
the catdoor
to get a full night's sleep if I have
to get out of bed at 3:00 to push him through it.
(Later Aside:
Oh well, I'm sure he'll catch on. Eventually.)
To Bandini The
Music Teacher Wherever I May Find Her, From Jan The French Teacher Who Ran Off To Texas With Jim.
Bandini,
I'm sorry I laughed when my dog chased your
cat. If ever you read this, please e-Mail. I'm
waiting.
4:35 am
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Not bad - for my old, yucky camera. Not great. But not bad.  
12:28 am
Jewels And Binoculars...
I could write
something like...
Raisins on top of the t.v. sent
the bald man to his room without
dinner because
the carpenter on a
lonely subway thought he saw his
mother's dead brother sweeping
leaves from
the sidewalk in passing.
Or something like...
Rotten bananas are only half as interesting as
a
leather sofa's squeakings or the moon's
being drunk on the thrill of a summer-school fling.
I could.
I could write stuff like that but I can't
because my cursor
is frozen and a
wavering moth is actually writing this for me.
I, yes, am said moth.
I believe you heard my
great-great-great-great-great-great-great, etc.
grandfather's tiny scream the
night the lightbulb was
too hot yet you did nothing to help. I am the
moth to the flaming ovens of Alexander
The Mediocre,
the lesser known cousin who owned and operated a
glazed donut shop near where Leonard Cohen's
place
is on Hyrda. Bet you didn't know that, did you?
Bet most of this is as much of
a surprise to you as it is to me.
12:17 am
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Another Stupid Migraine
But I've just taken
two Excedrin and am going to hop in the shower, (or probably trudge, hobble or slog my way there. What's with all
this "hopping" into showers, anyway? Don't we know we could hop, slip and crack our noggins on
tile floors?)
The Child has her guitar class from 4:00 to 4:30. Can't miss that.
Interfriends,
please send me healing energies as soon as you read this, by singing the following out loud, roughly to the tune of Skip To
My Lou...
Jannie's whoopin' the migraine's ass.
Jannie's whoopin' the migraine's
ass.
Jannie's whoopin' the migraine's ass.
And then she'll drink some bee-eer.
Thanks!
3:06 pm
Monday, June 9, 2008
Madlib, Job Application
I'm qualified
for this job because I'm dancing.
I got a college education in the bathroom
and I majored in biscuits.
I consider myself very soggy because I'm
a chandelier.
I'll be working to support my porcelain husband and our three
dentists.
I'm looking for a job that pays between $4 and $8799
a year.
I have experience using staccato leglifts and a whisper.
I have a traditional attitude that makes me good for swooping.
I think these, among other qualifications, make me right for this rubber job.
(Do you find
these even remotely funny? My God, Madlibs give me the biggest chuckles, which is possibly not the best thing for my
sore throat. But they totally crack me up as much as they did in 7th grade.)
Anyway, to bed now, after I
do a some more staccato leglifts.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Backyard Adventure 18 (taken with old, yucky, camera.)
Backyard 10, Revisited (taken with new, but currently broken, camera)
7:47 pm
Saturday, June 7, 2008
American Gold
The moon was snowing
on the pines
the night cousin Katherine swam far
out by herself in Chocolate Lake.
(She was more
dazzling than ever, tho
probably as much human as anyone.)
I remember worrying about leeches,
or the dark possiblilty
of their existence
so stayed onshore with the bearded guy
we'd been to the pub on Barrington with.
(My ex, as usual had gone
home early to fume alone. )
Gail P. was there.
She was tanned that year.
Now she's in Sacramento
& we've lost touch again.
9:01 pm
Friday, June 6, 2008
Summer Vacation!!!!!
Yesterday on Kelly's
first day off school we mercilessly revamped her bedroom, except the closet which needs shelving upgrades by Daddy-O.
Daddy-O?
Next: Surgical strikes on my desk and office corner. Oy vey.
Then, write 3 hits songs
and teach the cat to limbo.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
I
just lifted the following from Songwriting Zen, who borrowed it from John Cowell. Mr. Cowell aims to target beginner songwriters here, but I think
his points will more than inspire seasoned songwriters as well.
Beginner Songwriting 12 Points On Your Self-Doubt
By John Cowell
1.
Beginner songwriting self-doubt is normal. Here’s how to fix self doubt
in songwriting by learning to neutralize doubt because it’s a logical part of songwriting.
2. You’re not alone because most songwriters have self-doubt. It’s absolutely
ok, the trick is writing when doubt makes it difficult to write. It’s easy to feel tied down with everyday stresses
that stop you from finishing a great song. 3. However, without
doubt, how would you have a healthy fear of failing? A manageable fear of not producing strong songs is important
as you can learn to use it to support your writing. Use it to force yourself to dig deeper to write better songs. 4. Songwriters face a lot or rejection from many people. When you respect
a person because you value their views, they hold more weight over you than others. 5. What if they think you can’t do it, can’t write a strong song? We often measure
ourselves based on what we believe others think of us. 6.
Nothing kills inspiration and songs faster than your own internal words that sensor what you are writing. We all
have this worry that comes from the fear of failing. 7. But
the good news is maybe you are a brilliant and wonderful songwriter. How will you ever find out if you don’t
write and rewrite? 8. Doubt of your ability creeps in when
you’ve been reminded of failed efforts or expectations. But the greatest failure of all is not realizing your
potential. 9. Sometimes it doesn’t seem to make sense.
All these people may love and respect you, but you can still doubt yourself. You can create failure in your mind. 10. Creativity is not limited to a few who express their experiences in commercially
successful songs. We are all creative. Visualize yourself reaching what you want and the satisfaction you will experience.
In other words, see yourself performing well. 11. There is
a great deal of room for unique points of view and in fact people are just waiting to hear a great song that touches them.
We all have our moments of self-doubt, often when we see someone else’s great success. 12. There’s room in beginner songwriting to learn to create great songs. And it can
be learned. The people who are successful are the proof. But you must believe in yourself. I have an excellent example of
a Hall Of Fame songwriter expressing normal self doubt. **************************************** About the author John
Cowell is self proclaimed songwriting addict. His fresh approach to songwriting tips and advice will have you saying
“Ah-Ha” over and over again. To get simple and terrific ideas
on how to write great songs visit his website http://www.greatsongwriting.com
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Marathoners 2008
  Another Kellivisual photo feast, these taken 2 months ago. (My
camera just went on the blink so I'll have to dig into my unpublished gems until I can take new ones.)
Why do things stop working, like cameras, dishwashers and the best laid plans ?
11:32 pm
Unhumble Instant Gloom
I skimmed a
black stone
into the unsuspecting night
only to have my sweet rage dashed
by meddling stabs of Eastern
glow
9:32 pm
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Waffle Plan
I'm assuming that the daschund
who
appears to be sleeping with his head
nesting on his forepaws, is actually
plotting when best to make
his
move to steal the left-over waffle
from The Child's table. Take
my eyes off him for
a moment and
he'll commando-crawl himself a half
centimeter closer to the prize. Turn
my back
for four seconds to fluff up
my pillow and he'll gain an inch. Leave
the room and that waffle's
toast.
& Such
& Such is a perfect catch-all because
it can cover anything and everything
from advice on violin tuning to butter
churning to baby burping
to rug
hooking to tips on the fine art of
hog tossing. I do not hook rugs,
nor do I have a
baby anymore,
(she will be 7 in about 3 months.)
I suppose I could tune a violin if I had
to and I think
I did churn butter a long
long, long time ago. It would've
been with automation tho, not with
an
old-fashioned pottery jug and a dash.
Once I got my arm caught in Dad's cream
separator.
I forget how they freed me.
Brute srength probably. My dad's a small
man but one of the strongest around.
All those afternoons of hog tossing & Such,
I suppose, has kept him farmer fit.
Which reminds
me... & Such includes
(but is not limited to,) photos, poems,
dreams, schemes, pastry musings,
advice on how to never get your
nuptial knickers in a knot, a
Songwriting Tip now and then and
above all... anything I darn well
choose to pass the time and stay
connected to my inner twinkle.
True Love
She traipsed to the North
Pole from Boston via Sacramento without a hat, scarf or mitts to hobble home a year later with only ten cents in
her pocket and a photo of another giant sequoia on her lapel but he took her in, fed her soup and never once again made
her talk about baseball stats or stock margins.
11:25 am
Ah, Much Better.
11:09 am
Monday, June 2, 2008
2008 Class Photo (temporarily sideways)
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Excitement!
I really and truly will
be switching web servers in about a month. My blog will have a comments box! My site will have amazing (and useful,) sidebars.
I'll be 7 lbs thinner and have chiseled abs. And this lady is going to help make it all happen. (Well, maybe not the thinner and abs part but she's definetly going to redesign
janniefunster.com.)
(And wow, it's June already! How did that happen?)
7:42 am
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