Ruminating Not Really Writing
December 23, 2012
Well, after polishing off the bottle of Mt. Eden 05 Chardonnay with our shrimp and taking a hot bath, my brain seems to have turned to mush. I spent some of my writing energy researching where I will buy fresh crab on the 26th for our fete at Mom’s.
It feels good to be here in SF. The downpour has ceased. The house, and indeed the entire city is very quiet.
I am gazing at an assortment of photos on the top of Mom's rolltop desk in the guest room where I’ll reside until New Year’s Day. One of me in 5th grade next to Alice in 4th holding up a very young Zeke, everyone’s favorite cat. And there’s a diptych with Dave, my late brother, faking an ATM holdup on the left and Mom, Dolores, in her graduation down standing on some steps in NYC. Or is she in a coat?
There’s also a brush painting of a serpentine dragon, a shot of Peggy when she was maybe twenty, smiling, possibly in her first house in Medford, or maybe even back in NJ.
Next to it is an improbable shot of me on skis, at a lesson up in Truckee. I think I am maybe 50, and look perky, but I know the truth of how I feel about skiing.
The final photo is the lot of us who came for the crab feast on mom’s 80th birthday, which would be four years ago now. We are lined up on Gary’s couch and on the floor. It was a jolly time.
I have stalled, chatting about what is in front of my nose. I really don’t know how to pick a person to write about. They all feel gelled into one place in my heart, those I love. It is difficult to single them out.
Gosh, what was I thinking, with this project? I am terrible at commitments. Perhaps giving up Words with Friends, Scrabble online wasn’t enough. Perhaps I have to give up drinking?
Really, I will say in my defense, and I’m the only one who can come to my aid now, is that I have just made it to the resting place part of Winter Break. I had to prepare my house for guests, and drive up after parties and stuff. Maybe now I can focus a bit.
Bon nuit.
Well, after polishing off the bottle of Mt. Eden 05 Chardonnay with our shrimp and taking a hot bath, my brain seems to have turned to mush. I spent some of my writing energy researching where I will buy fresh crab on the 26th for our fete at Mom’s.
It feels good to be here in SF. The downpour has ceased. The house, and indeed the entire city is very quiet.
I am gazing at an assortment of photos on the top of Mom's rolltop desk in the guest room where I’ll reside until New Year’s Day. One of me in 5th grade next to Alice in 4th holding up a very young Zeke, everyone’s favorite cat. And there’s a diptych with Dave, my late brother, faking an ATM holdup on the left and Mom, Dolores, in her graduation down standing on some steps in NYC. Or is she in a coat?
There’s also a brush painting of a serpentine dragon, a shot of Peggy when she was maybe twenty, smiling, possibly in her first house in Medford, or maybe even back in NJ.
Next to it is an improbable shot of me on skis, at a lesson up in Truckee. I think I am maybe 50, and look perky, but I know the truth of how I feel about skiing.
The final photo is the lot of us who came for the crab feast on mom’s 80th birthday, which would be four years ago now. We are lined up on Gary’s couch and on the floor. It was a jolly time.
I have stalled, chatting about what is in front of my nose. I really don’t know how to pick a person to write about. They all feel gelled into one place in my heart, those I love. It is difficult to single them out.
Gosh, what was I thinking, with this project? I am terrible at commitments. Perhaps giving up Words with Friends, Scrabble online wasn’t enough. Perhaps I have to give up drinking?
Really, I will say in my defense, and I’m the only one who can come to my aid now, is that I have just made it to the resting place part of Winter Break. I had to prepare my house for guests, and drive up after parties and stuff. Maybe now I can focus a bit.
Bon nuit.