A poem and then some other crap
The Summer Day
By Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
__________________________________________________
I read Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry the other day. It is 847 pages long and, not that I think anyone is, but if you're considering ever reading it, don't. Watch the movie again. It's not bad, it's really not, but it is exactly the same as the movie. There are a few very insignificant things that are different, like scenes that would not add or detract from the story by being there or not being there, etc. Otherwise, it is the same, right down to the dialog. It's actually kind of amazing. I have a big stack of books sitting by me here at the library table and I'm sure I'll get back to y'all about that because honestly I haven't anything else to do atm but read.
I do have an appointment to have my surgery to remove the kidney stone on the 19th, so there's that. I imagine that is not going to be fun at all. More anesthesia, for one thing, which is so disturbing. I hate it, but the thing has to come out or I'll lose the kidney, so one more time I guess is alright. I am not one of those patiently long-suffering kind of sick people. Seriously, if I had cancer or some chronic illness that I had to live with forever, I would not be one of those sweet sick people that makes you feel like a better person for feeding them Jello or bringing them a kitten to pet for an hour. I would be as I am make everyone SUFFER. So, it's really best for all that the thing comes out. I can totally understand why some people with chronic illnesses are such assholes though. The medical profession in this country these days is fucking disgraceful. One hospital lost my paper work and called me the other day to ask me if I would fill it out again for them if they sent me another copy. This is paper work with important info on it like my social security number and shit like that. Then, the other hospital was supposed to schedule me for my follow-up surgery before I even left the last time, but they didn't, so no one was going to call me about it. I waited about a week and a half for them to do that, then I called them and was told that they would have to go look up my file and get back to me about it. Ffs. But whatever, it's happening on the 19th. Joy.
I was going to write another fic for The Following, but then the actual story line of the show followed the one I was considering for the fic so closely that I garbaged it. I have another sort of idea percolating, but whether or not it gets written is all about time and motivation. Atm, I'm editing a fic for a friend's big bang, which is like 155 pages long (154 after a little fiddling from me), so I'm keeping busy, even if it is really just busy work.
I had a really weird dream the other night. I don't remember much about it except Jared Leto was in it and there was interesting and weird conversation and at one point he was sitting on me. Not like in a sexy way or anything, thank God, but like... I was laying on my side on a sofa--which I think was that ugly burnt orange color you only ever see in furniture at the Good Will--and I was talking to someone else and he was sitting on my hip. Like some freaky little leprechaun. Other than that, I don't remember. I blame the combined powers of sleeping pills and pain medication.
By Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
__________________________________________________
I read Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry the other day. It is 847 pages long and, not that I think anyone is, but if you're considering ever reading it, don't. Watch the movie again. It's not bad, it's really not, but it is exactly the same as the movie. There are a few very insignificant things that are different, like scenes that would not add or detract from the story by being there or not being there, etc. Otherwise, it is the same, right down to the dialog. It's actually kind of amazing. I have a big stack of books sitting by me here at the library table and I'm sure I'll get back to y'all about that because honestly I haven't anything else to do atm but read.
I do have an appointment to have my surgery to remove the kidney stone on the 19th, so there's that. I imagine that is not going to be fun at all. More anesthesia, for one thing, which is so disturbing. I hate it, but the thing has to come out or I'll lose the kidney, so one more time I guess is alright. I am not one of those patiently long-suffering kind of sick people. Seriously, if I had cancer or some chronic illness that I had to live with forever, I would not be one of those sweet sick people that makes you feel like a better person for feeding them Jello or bringing them a kitten to pet for an hour. I would be as I am make everyone SUFFER. So, it's really best for all that the thing comes out. I can totally understand why some people with chronic illnesses are such assholes though. The medical profession in this country these days is fucking disgraceful. One hospital lost my paper work and called me the other day to ask me if I would fill it out again for them if they sent me another copy. This is paper work with important info on it like my social security number and shit like that. Then, the other hospital was supposed to schedule me for my follow-up surgery before I even left the last time, but they didn't, so no one was going to call me about it. I waited about a week and a half for them to do that, then I called them and was told that they would have to go look up my file and get back to me about it. Ffs. But whatever, it's happening on the 19th. Joy.
I was going to write another fic for The Following, but then the actual story line of the show followed the one I was considering for the fic so closely that I garbaged it. I have another sort of idea percolating, but whether or not it gets written is all about time and motivation. Atm, I'm editing a fic for a friend's big bang, which is like 155 pages long (154 after a little fiddling from me), so I'm keeping busy, even if it is really just busy work.
I had a really weird dream the other night. I don't remember much about it except Jared Leto was in it and there was interesting and weird conversation and at one point he was sitting on me. Not like in a sexy way or anything, thank God, but like... I was laying on my side on a sofa--which I think was that ugly burnt orange color you only ever see in furniture at the Good Will--and I was talking to someone else and he was sitting on my hip. Like some freaky little leprechaun. Other than that, I don't remember. I blame the combined powers of sleeping pills and pain medication.