anyone who works with me, is related to me, or friends with me
knows i love writing my ideas/notes/lists
on any random found piece of paper
all makes perfect sense to me
interesting to look back at later
when out of context and a bit of time has gone by.
“but those who cannot write, and those who can, all rhyme, and scrawl, and scribble to a man.”
note: (photo above is an “S” page ( S is for: scribbles, scraps and scrawls)
from a work-in progress – my memoir,
done in a large-format, alphabet book style,
using a bajillion collage pieces cut from everywhere – the best way i know to tell my story.)
teriyaki time (not for gambling)
the bag of loot my daughter gave me
with a friendly reminder
to pick up the sushi lunch
and not go to the casino or track
with the cash and the kids.
Quote from ‘Dumb & Dumber’:
LLOYD: “I’ll bet you 20 bucks I can get you gambling before the end of the day!?”
HARRY: “No way.”
LLOYD: “I’ll give you 3 to 1 odds?”
LLOYD: “5 to 1?”
LLOYD: “10 to 1?”
HARRY: “You’re on.”
envelope left behind by a kinder in my class
who created it for someone special.
‘i have found that if you love life, life will love you back.’
the notes i scribbled after each walk in the parks
sometimes in a code that even i could not decipher
the artifacts i gathered as i walked the parks
most dried out to the point where i could not recognize them
i threw all of the the notes and artifacts into a big shoe box
in one heaping pile
things fell out and fell in
i found a purple feather and holiday glitter in the mix
clearly a very complex and organized system.
“if you wish to forget anything on the spot,
make a note that this thing is to be remembered.”
-edgar allan poe
in the kinder room
one ‘sleeps’ in the cot garage
a hand reaches out
one ‘sleeps’ outside
barely on her cot
sees the signal
of all kinds.
let the spy games begin.
in my head, i think i’d make a perfect spy,
but in reality, i don’t think i’d fare very well.
– matthew rhys
walked downtown through the snow to meet my friend for brunch on this beautiful, snowy day. i knew it was time to go out, before i went a bit stir crazy like jack’s character in ‘the shining,’ after i posted this note to myself on the inside of my front door. apparently, i was craving one last rasher of bacon, before being snowbound for the next day or so, with nary a slice in the house.
Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon. – Doug Larson
happy birthday to my eldest daughter who lives in a very different time zone and place and across the seas and over the lands and on the other side of the international date line and below the equator and in another hemisphere. as far away as we physically are from each other, our letters – long and flowery, on beautiful papers, or short and scribbled on scraps, or captions made on things to note, using pens and pencils and markers and paint and crayons and cut-outs and news, are one of the things that keep us so close.
today, i think of you and picture you opening the letter that i have written for you to celebrate this very special day. and who knows? one day, you may even look into your rolling ocean and see a bottle bobbing there, or look to your blue sky and see a balloon tied to a note, or turn to a colorful bird, sitting atop a lovely flower in your front yard, holding an envelope in its bill, or watch a kangaroo jump towards you with a packet emerging from its pouch, and know there is a message in there, from me to you, just waiting for you to open –
More than kisses, letters mingle souls. – John Donne
with the holidays soon arriving, i’m missing my aussie part of the family. spent most of the summer with them down under, and loved this note that my young grandsons dictated to my daughter to give me as i was leaving. i was especially taken with the line used as my title of this piece. i also love that it involved pinatas, lasagne, fairies, my scent, and a warning.
first parent note of the year – love it. school is in, bring it kindergarten!
Raising kids is part joy and part guerilla warfare.
i am fascinated, time and again, by my garbagemen. they’ve taken on the role of old-school catholic nuns – strict with their rules, calling me out in front of everyone, and trying to teach me using a tough love approach, though they use ink rather than chalk as their medium of choice, and rap my knuckles with pens rather than wooden rulers.
i am always amazed, that for some reason, there are times when they see fit to stop on their route and write me a note, leaving sticky notes on top of my bins. these notes tell me what i’ve done wrong: bins too close together, wrong item in the wrong bin, green bin to the left of the blue bin, trash not in alphabetical order, and god knows what else, a myriad of my garbage sins.
i find it hilarious that they will take the time to stop and write me these notes rather than just moving a bin over 8.5 inches if need be, taking the trash, and going on with their day. no, instead, they leave it full and with a note atop, promising to be back the next week at the appointed hour to attempt to pick it up again, when my mistake has been corrected. i imagine, at that point they figure i will have done my penance and they will have forgiven me my sins and they are willing and able help me to dispose of my trash, so that i can start anew with a clean slate once again. these guys are all forgiving and have no limit to trying to teach me to do better, and i plan to give them a lovely pen set for christmas this year.
I lived through the garbage. I might as well dine on the caviar . Beverly Sills