Saturday, April 25, 2015
Just fyi, my son and daughter-in-law are included in the classy and ecologically savvy Mar Vista Garden Showcase. Fiona designed the yard, and Ted did a lot of the digging and planting. Their gardeners cleared out the horrible crabgrass and installed irrigation. Fiona cleverly chose plants that chime beautifully with the lavender-gray house paint. The house should have been designated a fixer-upper when they bought it, and they have been applying sweat-equity and thought to fix it up ever since.
This seems to be the only photo I have that shows their yard (albeit backyard). You can see where my interests are fixed, namely, on my grandson, sez his Nana.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Alice Pero caught in uncharacteristic repose
Bruce Williams rocking the hat
Turns out Cati Porter reads with her eyes cast down down down
Cindy Bosquet Harris looking uncharacteristically serious--maybe she was putting it on?
Lavina Blossom consulting the oaks as she reads
shali Nicholson prefers her given name lower-case and her hair fuchsia-pink. So pretty.
Karen Greenbaum-Maya, Cindy Bosquet Harris, Cati Porter, Alice Pero, Lavina Blossom
I just hosted a magical event in the Rancho Santa Ana Botanical Garden, a wonderful place where you see what California could be like if it had just a little more rain. Oaks, irises, milkweed; butterflies, towhees and finches; squirrels, rabbits, hawks. We read poems about Nature or Spring or the environment at five different places in this setting. My station was under old oaks, warm and cool, shady and dappled, quiet and alive with birdsong and wind in the many leaves. Above: Alice Pero, Bruce Williams (rocking the hat), Cati Porter, Cindy Harris, Lavina Blossom, shali Nicholson (digging the hair), and a friendly group shot including me. Other readers as well. Also the sheltering oaks, an intimate setting where we immersed ourselves in poetry.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
A few months ago I was diagnosed with a serious chronic disorder that is requiring blunt changes in what I eat, how much I exercise, and how many times daily I am fearful about my health. It's like a bad part-time job: you don't get much back for all your work, it doesn't leave much for you to do what you enjoy, and you don't dare quit because you need the pay. What's more, I haven't written anything new since I got the diagnosis. I was grousing to my husband about this, and he responded compassionately. "Don't be so hard on yourself! Give yourself a break! It was a big shock to you. Besides, it's not as though editors were hounding you to send them work." Oh, don't I know it.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
One of my mentors says that, if you really intend to get published, you should have at least 40 submissions out at all times. Right now I have 45. Of these, two have been out for 245 days, 60 days longer than the journal estimated. In fact, 30 of the 45 have been out longer than the editors estimated. Now, if those editors are holding on to the poems or photos because these are still in the running, well OK, but make up yer minds awready. C'mon! You're not keeping Lent, you're not chasing down or sweeping up chametz for Passover. You can do this. If you like what I sent you, accept it and let me know!!
Saturday, March 14, 2015
1. There are three Americas. The first knows that today is Pi Day, and rejoices. The second doesn't know what you are talking about. The third doesn't know what you are talking about, and resents you for knowing and being happy about it.
2. In 1887, the Indiana State House of Representatives passed a bill setting the value of pi at 3.2. To be fair, this bill did not pass the other chamber.
3.The above photo is an example of squaring the circle, which cannot be done.
4. Chocolate makes all things possible. Below, an example of how pi can be square.
Friday, March 6, 2015
Wonderful people work at our local Trader Joe's. Not only are they willing to go to great lengths to keep the shelves stocked with fresh food, they are fun. And interesting. Just today, I overheard two young women discover that not only had they attended the same university, they had graduated from the same writing program, and had each specialized in poetry. I quickly sidled up to them and told them about Fourth Sundays, the local poetry reading series that I help curate. Hey, Lina! Hey, Sara! I really hope I'll see one or both of you at 2pm at the Claremont Public Library (208 N. Harvard Avenue) on March 22. You'll recognize the source of most of the refreshments.