As you may remember from previous posts, when I discovered my elder brother of choice Thomas, did not have a Literary Executrix, I volunteered. Obviously, I must have been on special assignment when we covered volunteering in Basic Training!
The first thing I did was work on his memoir, which he finished just before he died. That took a while (hard to see the computer screen if one is blinded by tears), but I eventually got there. Bless his heart he did a lot of copy and paste, instead of cut and paste. But I finally got the duplicates eliminated, and the tenses corrected, and sent it off to a friend to look over—and she will be publishing it in 2027!
The second thing I did was go through his many thumb drives and print out every written thing I could find. Best guestimate was 500 pages plus or minus. That’s a lot of stuff to go through. And as my friend said, why didn’t I just use a spread sheet to put the titles and dates in and use that? She even volunteered to make me the spread sheet! Well, if Thomas had been that consistent or organized, it might have worked but I found he had worked on poems and changed the title, but not the poem that much. Or he had written different poems, but used the same name. He used thumb drives and I found copies on multiple drives.
The third thing was to collect all the pages, and go on a week-long retreat to Port Hadlock, WA with friend Dixie of the spread sheet suggestion. There, I got all the poems in alphabetical order, found lots of pages that weren’t poems or were incomplete, and eliminated them, then went through each section and pulled out what looked to be the final copy, the complete copy, and then (why do I have an ear worm of Along Came Jones??) I divided them into categories. And then the week was up.
After coming home, I began going through them again, quickly, skimming, and divided the poetry into three books, and the stories into one. Took the hard copies I’d printed out, to Office Depot and had them scanned to thumb drives, one for each book, came home and got book one, Blanchard Mountain Woman, moved to a .docx file, edited, ordered, and saved in three places. One-hundred-thirty pages of poetry! And, of course, found a couple more duplicates with different titles, same words, different format. sigh.
Now, to find a poetry editor I can afford to go through the poems while I write the Frontis Matter, and the Back Matter (Backis Matter??), with the Table of Contents being the last in case we change the order. I plan on self-publishing these books, and hopefully deliver them to one of Thomas’s sons to take over, sell and manage the royalties which should be divided equally between the brothers.
One of these days, I hope to get back to my writing, and collections, and maybe get another book of my poems out. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Yes, I can tell, you are almost as excited as I am /snort/ In the meantime, I hope my files are a bit easier on my Literary Executrix, which I already have, and she has agreed to.
Mama Turtle
We have a mama turtle in our little pond. Perhaps we have a papa turtle, too, or he might be in the large pond next door. Every so often I see a baby turtle, but the heron gets them now and then, as well as the osprey, when they’re small. And since the landscrapers cut down our live trees by the pond, but left the dead ones, I’ve seen fewer turtles and frogs as they no longer have the protection of the trees, or the shade. The other day I noticed something in the water that was moving against the wind, grabbed my phone, put it on the largest telephoto I could and grabbed this shot of turtle swimming. As soon as I got the shot s/he dove back underwater, but at least I know we have at least one turtle, still. Dan says he’s heard Jeremiah sing now and then, and plop into the water when he goes outside.
“I’m here today because I refused to be unhappy. I took a chance.”—Wanda Sykes
Remember, you are loved, you are appreciated, and you have a marvelous week ahead.
I love you. I appreciate you. I give you a fantastical new week!
It’s an anthology! It’s paper! It’s a book! More Poemographs for Peace, A Photo & Poetry Anthology, ed by Cathy Warner. As the blurb on Amazon says: “includes poetry by 22 poets: Carolyn Wiley, Cathy Warner, Charles Perrone, Cindy Domasky, C.L. Halvorson, Dawn Smart, Genét Bosqué, Jan Haag, Lenora Rain-Lee Good, Leslayann Schecterson, Linda Whaley, Paula Wychopen, Rose Anna Higashi, Spirit Thom, Sterling Warner, Stuart Kurtz, Sue Daly, Sue Magrath, Susan Glenn Lampe, Teresa Gauthier, Thomas Jones, and Tino De Guevara. These fine poets responded to daily photos as they participated in this National Poetry Month anthology fundraiser. All proceeds from the sale of More Poemographs for Peace will be donated to World Central Kitchen to provide meals in war-torn Gaza, and to the American Civil Liberties Union to support the work of upholding democracy at home. The poems in this anthology, like those in its predecessors Poemographs for Peace (2022) and Poemographs (2021), continue the conversation between photography, writing, art, inspiration, action, and creativity.” [Bold is my addition.]
This book is truly food for your soul, and food for people in Gaza. Please consider buying copies.
I’m so honored this group of Poets has allowed me not only to be a part of their Zoom family, but accepted one of my poems, “KZ Gedenkstätte Dachau (II)” but also two of my lowkus.
Please note that ALL of the proceeds/royalties will go to World Central Kitchen to provide meals in war-torn Gaza, and the American Civil Liberties Union. In order to get maximum royalties for our charities, please order your copies (yes, plural, they’re great gifts) from either
The book contains 166 pages of great poems and gorgeous photographs
AND, yes, there is more!
The book launch is Tuesday, June 30, 2026 at 6pm PDT, via zoom. To RSVP your very own Zoom Room to watch us all read, please contact me for the information.
I paint flowers so they will not die. — Frida Kahlo
Happy Today! Have a fantastically wunnerful up-coming week. I love you. I appreciate you. You are wonderful!
Public Service Announcement:
I had a poem accepted by Casa Urraca Press for a print anthology. Believe me, I’m over the moon on this one. AND, I have two poems published in this month’s edition of Quill and Parchment for which I’m also over the moon— People of the Desert and Shadows of the Crow. Please click on the link, and scroll down, and stop and read some of the other poems on your way to mine. There are some great ones. The Two-Week Vaca That Was—Sorta 😉
Okay, it was a vacation, much enjoyed, and wonderfully productive, it just wasn’t what I’d planned on and hoped for. Those of you not familiar with Washington geography, I live in Kennewick (on the Big Bend of the Columbia River in south central/eastern Washington. Tacoma is on the Dark Side, south of Seattle, Federal Way is just north of Tacoma, the Narrows is the place Puget Sound narrows enough for two bridges to span it to the Peninsula. (Olympia is farther south, where the Sound ends.) Port Orchard, Poulsbo, Bremerton, Port Hadlock, Port Townsend and farther north up the peninsula, with Pt. T. at the NE tip. Arlington is just about straight across the Salish Sea (real name of Puget Sound) and inland a bit, ie, north of Seattle, Everett, and Marysville. I had planned on coming home from Arlington via Highway 2, then down through Wenatchee, etc. Oh, well, next time. 😉
I had planned on spending Friday evening with my Sister of the Heart, Marjorie, in Tacoma, then drive across the Narrows and spend Friday night, and Saturday night, with my ex-Boss, Bill. As we all know, life happens, and when I arrived at Marjorie’s, the house was dark, and no one home. You ever get up on a Friday but you just know it’s Thursday? Uh-huh, she was a day late and a dollar short, so to speak.
So, I spent the time with Bill, which, per usual, was great fun. We drove from Port Orchard up to Paulsbo, bought goodies at the bakery, came home, and had them for supper. Oh, evilness never tasted better!
Sunday, I drove back across the Narrows up to Federal Way, not far from where I used to live, actually, picked up my good friend, Dixie who lives in Virginia but was at her granddaughter’s, then drove back across the bridge and up to our VRBO rental in Port Hadlock (just south of Port Townsend.) A gorgeous drive, a beautiful home—but we couldn’t open the key box to get the key to get in. Of course, we also couldn’t get through to the Host and after spending a couple hours on the phone with VRBO people, they sent us to a hotel for the night. They couldn’t get the host, either. So, we drove up to Pt. T, found a hotel, with some great views
Gulls on hotel roof. The grass on roof is metal, meant to keep gulls off.
Olympic Mountains in background; they should be white. Mfg unk.
In the meantime, VRBO kept trying to contact the Host, and Monday morning succeeded, with a three-way phone call, the Host directed us to return to the house, the on-site mgr. would meet us and let us in. So back we went, and were so embarrassed when we were shown how simple it was to get in. Every lock box we’ve ever used, the bottom released, in this case, the ‘door’ pulled out and down. Oh, sigh.
The house was gorgeous, with fantastic views. When Dixie rented the house, she emphasized we had one person who could not do stairs, and was assured that person would be fine. Yeah, right. We went in on the main level of huge kitchen, dining room, living room, door out to deck, and a double set of stairs, one going down to the daylight basement, and one up to the second floor. Bathrooms were up, or down, stairs, none on the main level. Being an old Girl Scout, and a Vet, I assured Dixie that if there wasn’t an easy path and door to the daylight basement, there were lots of bushes. She was, rightly so, horrified. I, on the other hand hoped for the path, which turned out to very pleasant, and a huge slider downstairs, and a fairly comfy sofa on which to lay my weary body 😉 The bathroom was a full bathroom, though the textured floor of the walk-in shower was very slick when water, soap, and or shampoo, was on it. One shower was enough, and I bathed out of my helmet (the sink) thereafter.
This was to have been a Writer’s Retreat for 3 of us, one had unexpected defugalties and couldn’t come, so Dixie and I had our retreat and it was marvelous. She brought her project, I brought mine, and though I did no writing, other than my daily poems, we both got a great deal done. She is working on getting her late husband’s articles together for a book, and I worked on getting my late adopted brother’s poetry together for a book or maybe two. The first thing I did was put them in alphabetical order and get rid of all the duplicates and early versions. Then I broke them into categories. Now I need to go through and read each one and make a decision whether or not to put in a book (or one of the books).
We did take one day off and drive up to Pt. Townsend, where we toured Fort Worden, then walked a bit in downtown, gawking at the old buildings. We went into a fabric store—District Fabric—that was fabulous! All kinds of fabric, most on rolls, not flat bolts, and even a section where some was on hangers that was ‘gently pre-owned’. Fabrics from all over the world. OMG! It was hard to leave. I bought two pieces, one of pre-owned blue with yellow-gold hash marks, the other blacks, grays, like a hurricane rainband.
Then a kitchen gadget store, The Green Eyeshade, where they had every kitchen knick-knack known to cooking-hood. I bought a tiny spoon I use in my Szcheuan pepper sauce, from Japan with a kitty on it, and last night it dawned on me, it’s probably a caviar spoon. Well, I can afford the pepper sauce 😉
From there, we wandered down the street to All About Me, a clothing store with a sale rack of clothes outside. The colors were all wrong for me—earthtones—and some guy with a soprano sax a half block or so away decided to entertain folks. I told Dixie I was going inside and if not back in three days to call the Gendarmes. I really did not like the guy’s sax playing. Found a coat I really liked, more like a long jacket, summer weight, then saw where it had to be hand washed. It went back on the rack, and I wandered on through the store. In the back were shoes. And some were on sale. Dixie wandered back to join me, and there were two pair sized 38 and 39, red, fun, on sale. The 39 fit me, which was a surprise, most Euro sizes are too wide. Alas, Dixie could get the 38 on, but it was uncomfortable. She bought a pair of slacks, I bought a pair of shoes. Then we headed back to the house, with a stop off in a diner that was actually pretty dog gone good, then home for a glass of wine.
I probably shouldn’t admit this, but we bought a bottle of wine our first day there, the standard 750ml sized bottle, and I brought enough for two more glasses home with me. Yeah, our glasses were probably between 1-2oz. We’re pretty big drinkers, huh? I drank the last of it the next Thursday.
On the following Sunday, I was scheduled to return Dixie to her granddaughter’s and drive up to Arlington to see my adopted Little Bro and his husband. Alas a couple days prior, my BIL was admitted to the hospital, and I am delighted to say he is now home recouping, but at the time, it was deemed the better part of common sense for me to toodle on home and not see them. So, I got to see 2 of the 5 people I wanted to see. Yes, it was a loverly vacation, but I miss not seeing those I didn’t get to see. Oh, well, it just means I have an excuse to go to the Dark Side again. (It is called the Dark Side due to the fact that the clouds roll in about half past September and stay until (usually) 5 July, not really rainy, just gray, wet, gloomy—dark.
Great Blue Heron on tide flats outside our rental
Dawn at Bruce Pond (near side of spits, see heron above) Oak Bay far side, Salish Sea
Mt Tahoma (Rainier) at dawn
Susie says, Hi, to everyone. She’s very friendly.
Our rental. The upstairs windows on the left was Dixie’s room, the downstairs sliders was mine. I could go up the outside stairs, but wasn’t comfortable going down them. The house behind is used for storage.
Mt Tahoma, Guardian of the Southern Salish Sea
Best quote, possibly ever: I did that!
This is the pump at the gas station I went to in Port Hadlock. In the middle of MAGA country
All photos by Lenora Rain-Lee Good, using iPhone 17 Pro Max
Before I begin, here is your Monday Public Service Announcement:
Happy Monday. Have a great rest of the week. I love you. I appreciate you.
When I lived in Albuquerque, I started working on a book of poetry about Billy the Kid, aka William H. Bonney, aka Henry McCarty—his birth name. I was still in the research stage when life happened, and I moved back to Kennewick, and became involved in other things. I still dream of going back to New Mexico, Fort Sumner, etc., and doing research, and writing the poems, but then, I’m a dreamer, eh?
In the meantime, someone in my critique group recommended a book last year, Coming Through Slaughter, a fictionalized biography of New Orleans jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden and is partly set in Slaughter, Louisiana, by Michael Ondaatje. I enjoyed the book, so when I found The Collected Works of Billy the Kid also by Michael Ondaatje, I had to read it, too. And I was not disappointed!
There is not a great deal known about Billy, but there is some information out there, and Ondaatje did a marvelous job of using what little is known as a springboard for his poetry and prose. It reads like a journal, or maybe a better description is a collection of his (Billy’s) papers, what were found, often without beginning or ending. Some of the poems actually have titles, or at least attribution as to who wrote them, as “Miss Sallie Chisum” by Sallie Chisum describing Billy “As far as dress was concerned / he always looked as if / he had just stepped out of a bandbox.” She goes on to describe his clothing, finishing with, “he was the pink of politeness / and as courteous a little gentleman / as I ever met.” From what I’ve found about Billy in what little research I’ve accomplished, this was a fairly accurate description of him.
By many accounts I’ve read, Billy was a gentleman, at least where the ladies were concerned. He dressed well, he was polite, he was bi-lingual (English and Spanish) and possibly tri-lingual. There is some information out there he spoke Gaelic, probably learned at his mother’s knee.
If you’re looking for a good and plausible book about Billy, I highly recommend The Collected Works of Billy the Kid. It’s great fun. If you’re looking for a scholarly account of the young man’s life, this isn’t for you. And yes, there is the conspiracy that Garrett shot the wrong man, claimed he was Billy, buried him, and collected the reward and that Billy once again escaped, made it to Mexico or someplace, lived a quiet life as a law-abiding citizen, married, and had a family, etc., etc., etc. Billy was a master at aliases and escapes, so this isn’t entirely unbelievable.
Oh, and in the interest of transparency, or just kinda interesting stuff, when Daddy was a youngster, he met a man who knew Pat Garret who is credited with killing Billy the Kid. We are closer to history than we sometimes realize.
My Friday
Those of you who know me, know I’m not really a morning person. Oh, I get up early enough, because when I wake up enough to answer the early morning calls of bladder and dog, I’m up. I try not to get up before 4am, but sometimes it’s earlier, and if I go back to bed, I just lie there for a couple of hours and I might as well be up and at the computer with my cuppa joe. Like this morning, Sunday. Yes, I’m up, but I’m not cognizant, I’m not ready for thinking, for talking, for doing much beyond watching something on the computer and maybe, if I’m lucky, getting a few words written on the virtual paper before me. Somewhere around 9am, I actually become functionally awake 😉
So, this past Friday, I signed up for a poetry workshop, that started at my time of 7am. It was something like 3 hours long, and very interesting. I actually got 4 poems written during that time. No, they are not ready to be abandoned, but they are good enough to warrant some editing and maybe submission. Then, later that afternoon, I attended my weekly workshop of prompts, and wrote two more poems, also pretty good first drafts. Aren’t you glad I don’t share all the poetry I write with you? Since 1 Jan this year, I’ve written 90. Boy Howdy, do I know how to have fun!!! 😉
How Many Days Until Mid-Term Elections?
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You really think we’re going to have them? Nope, they ain’t gonna happen, my gentle families and friends. That’s why we’re in an undeclared-by-Congress war, so the Unnamed Person can claim an emergency, and take over and cancel elections, or have them with his goons manning polling places. Yep, we’re closer to history than we realize.
How would your life be different if on the first day of school/kindergarten, you received a card or a note that said: “Happy Monday. Enjoy the rest of the week. I love you.” This card was from your teacher, and s/he explained everyone would make a card for the following Monday, to give to someone in the class, everyone would make a card, everyone would receive a card. And this card exchange would be every Monday for the rest of your school life, through graduation of High School.
How would your life be different if, every Monday through your K-12 school life, you learned to give and receive a gift, homemade or store bought, to one of your classmates? That’s thirteen years of giving and receiving gifts.
Your brain would have probably been wired toward the perspective of compassion and pro-social thoughts. You would have a moral identity reinforced by friends and family. You would see yourself as a helper person, a caring person, and an ethical person, all of which would help you in decision making.
Your aggressive reactivity would probably be reduced, your social confidence and belonging built and shored up by the frequent positive reaction with strangers and neighbors. Social anxiety would not be nearly as strong, your community attachment and long-term civic orientation would be strengthened.
Children exposed to structured generosity are more likely to engage in volunteering, cooperation, and nonviolent civic participation as adults. The net gain effect of 676* structured acts of kindness during developmental years creates a durable pro-social identity, higher emotional stability, and stronger community trust norms that persist into adulthood.
The immediately preceding paragraphs are paraphrased from:
And, as my final paragraph on this topic, please think where we, as a nation, would be if this had started say in 1900, or 1920, or even 1940. And, please, become part of the nationwide network to think and act with strategy, not anger. It is never too late to change.
*The Former Black Panther was counting on 52 weeks a year times 13, most school years are closer to 40 weeks, I think, which would make it closer to 520. But then, there’s no reason during summers and school breaks, that giving couldn’t be carried on with neighbors, which would bring it right back up to 676 or so 😉
Uncoupling, Poems by Margo Davis
All couples will uncouple at some point. Train engines are uncoupled from train cars, children are uncoupled from beloved pets, parents are uncoupled from children, and lovers and life partners are uncoupled through mutual agreement or death. With the (presumably) exception of the trains, the loss of uncoupling brings pain of varying degrees, as well as freedom (of varying degrees) and maybe guilt, and even joy as we acknowledge the happy memories of earlier days, that our beloved is free of pain, of agony and now Rests in Power with their God.
Davis has a marvelous sense of humor that comes through in many (most?) of these poems, from the very first poem, Southern Tradition, “A Southern woman could / lace a rat with garnish / and pass it on. // the mixologist’s cocktails /…/ hurricane comin’!” One of my favorites being Better Times about the old codger, Lassie, Timmy and a three-foot glass of milk. Her humor is anything but juvenile, as noted in her last poem, Breathless In Portugal, “Messejana sheep take me / as I am. Uphill downslide I traverse //…Sleight of Hand. Oh tongue / that I never knew. I knew.”
I found this book delightful and engaging and one with poems I have read more than once! I heartily recommend it. Available through your favorite bookstore or online through https://Bookshop.org
On a More Political Topic
I believe I’ve mentioned a time or two, my favorite political pundit is Keith Olbermann, (my second favorite pundit is David Reddish, but that’s another post). It isn’t just the politics, I enjoy Olbermann’s personal discussions, too. Especially when he talks about famous people, or not quite famous people, he knows or has met. Keith’s sense of humor is marvelous, at least over the air. He is one of the famous people I’d like to have a cup of coffee with, though I’d probably be so tongue-tied I wouldn’t be able to put three words together that made any sense. Anyhow, Thursday’s episode (His podcast, Countdown with Keith Olbermann, airs every Monday and Thursday morning) is a bit long, but the last part, where he talks about Robert Duvall and the movie Network is worth the price of admission. Network, for those of you who, like me, haven’t seen it, is a 1976 American movie about a fictional tv station, UBS, with low ratings, written by Paddy Chayefsky. Olbermann brings up 23 instances in the movie that were prescient to today’s tv networks that were not even thought of when the movie came out, and which when people saw it laughed because those things could never happen. Is it time for a movie? Starring Faye Dunaway, William Holden, Peter Finch, Fobert Duvall, Wesley Addy, and a host of others. Although I could find places where it’s streaming, all the sites want money. Clap if you’re surprised.
Just finished reading a fun book, Unbuilding by David Macaulay. It’s children’s lit, but great fun. In 1989, a Saudi Prince buys the Empire State Building, has it dismantled, labeled, etc., and put on a ship to Saudi where it can be reassembled. This is the story of Unbuilding the Empire State Building. It’s full of pen and ink drawings, and if you have any budding architects, engineers, or builders in your sphere, you might want to consider the book for them. It’s available from Bookshop.org or if you don’t mind a used book, from abebooks.com. Or from your favorite indie bookstore.
I’m going to have to try his other books. Well, some of them. He’s got bunches and they look way fascinating. He’s got at least 25 listed on Bookshop.org. ranging from Castle to The Way Things Work to Mammoth Math: Everything You Need to Know About Numbers to Rome Antics. I’ll probably skip the Mammoth Math—it’s hardback, and I prefer softback /snort/. (for those of you who don’t know, I prefer letters and words to numbers and equal signs)
However, since I’m on the topic of books, when Covid hit, I attended a book launch by Arthur Sze of his book The Glass Constellation sponsored by Rain Taxi. It was via a zoom-type of program, so no one was crammed in a seat next to 100 of their new best friends, we were all given our own little “room” on a screen. Sze was maybe a quarter of the way through with his presentation, and I had already ordered the book. I’d never heard of him before that night, but that’s how impressed I was with his poetry. When my book came, it’s a compendium of several of his earlier books, all bound together with new and selected poems. I literally consumed the book withing r or 5 days. I have since added several other books to my collection, including his latest, or one of his latest ones, Into The Hush. Not only do I love the book, but I was invited to join a group of poets who will gather for 6 meetings to study the book, its poems, and do writings inspired/based on his poems in the book.
The small group I am in (3 per group) decided to study/work on Letter to Tao Qian. Thanks to Favorite Daughter, I have The Silk Dragon II, a book of Chinese poems Sze translated, and the first 5 poems are by the Ancient Chinese poet, Tao Qian. It’s very interesting to read those 5 poems and find the references in Sze’s poem. Homework has never been such fun.
My Winter Gift from me to me this year was Sze’s book, The White Orchard. It is a collection of some of his interviews, essays, and some poetry. The most interesting parts to me are the areas where he talks about how he writes. He often uses disparate phrases and fragments of sentences for his lines, but all of the lines are deliberate, and in a deliberate order. Because we all bring our own stories to the ones we read, we are each given our own interpretation as to what his lines mean. Is he telling us to stop, relax, breathe, acknowledge there is evil in the world, but to spend more time on the beauty? I have started writing “like” Sze, but not like him. My mind is trainable, but I don’t want his voice, I want his style. I want to keep my own voice. I want someone to read my poem and say, “Ah, she’s read Arthur Sze!” It is very difficult for me to think in segments and fragments, but I have written a couple of poems with one-line stanzas, in disparate fragments. I am also working on a long, sectioned poem like he writes, with each section being in a different format. Those are the poems that caused me to order The Glass Constellation.
Of course, there are many poets out there I really like—the ever-gracious Naomi Shihab Nye, the late Lucille Clifton, the late Paul Monette, the effervescent Diane Seuss, and the incomparable Eduardo C. Corral. But I am in Literary Lust with Arthur Sze 😉
Imagine You Are Madame Dorion
So, I log onto YouTube and am looking at the videos on my home page, and notice a photo of buffalo in a snow storm that looks familiar, like one I took, and then I look at the words, and it IS one of my photos from when my friend and publisher of Madame Dorion put together a promo video for my book. Wow! Something from ten years ago showed up—a whole video of my photos. On my YouTube home page. If you didn’t get it on your home page, it is here — a smidge under 7 minutes. And, if you haven’t read the book, you can find it at your favorite bookstore (they may have to order it) or at bookshop.org. Historical fiction at its finest, not that I’m biased—or bragging. By the way, the cover on Madame Dorion was painted by a descendant of Madame Dorion.
And Remember
If you don’t yet have your copy of Saying Goodbye to Thomas, you may pick up, or order, a copy from your favorite bookstore, or order a copy here, at Bookshop.org. All proceeds go to the ALS Association and End of Life Washington/Death With Dignity.
William Stafford Challenge
Today, 16 February 2026, is the 31st day of the William Stafford Challenge. The Challenge goes from 17 Jan to 17 Jan (his birthday, and we write a poem a day), on the 17th of January, I had written 22 poems, having started on the first of January. By this morning my number of poems written is currently 68. More will come this day, I am sure.
Now, they aren’t all good poems, though a couple are, but they are all seeds to go back and edit, revise, and have good poems emerge.
A fond memory of my road trip through the Southwest a couple years ago. The tall skinny ones are saguaro cactus. It was warm. Blessedly warm.
Good morning! It is cold out (30F), and dark (6:30am), and I’ve already spent a couple of hours on poetry. My computer is playing soft, ambient music, Sammy the Bravest Dog, has been out and is now back on the bed, sleeping. Sometimes, he truly acts more like a cat than a dog, but I’ve promised not to tell his union representative 😉 After all, I did ask for a cat, and got him.
I am setting a new morning habit. I now get up, turn on my computer, and put four items on my playlist. This mornings were two of Ilia Malinan skating, one mildly political (the National Opera has pulled out of The Kennedy Center Memorial), and finishing with the hours long ambient music. I am also trying to limit my news, especially political news to two days a week—Mondays and Thursdays.
Why those two days, you may be wondering? Well, it’s easy. Those are the two mornings Countdown with Keith Olbermann is on. I admit, if I see something from David Reddish, I do tend to watch it, because a) he’s cute and b) he usually has some good snark to make me laugh.
I also watch not political news, and news not laden with American Politics. you know, fun stuff like Ukrainian winning, wars, revolutions, cats, volcanoes, Don Kim upcycling old jeans into designer bags, Quilt Like an Artist, and AI stories which don’t mean to be funny but I can’t help LOLOLOLing, because they are.
I am trying to get back to writing on a regular basis, and don’t need/want all the distractions of YouTube. Well, yes, I want them, but then I don’t write. Squirrel!! And as you may have gathered, writing is hard work.
I have resigned from my volunteer work, which was not an easy decision. I miss helping people, but let’s be honest, at my age, I ain’t as young as I used to was! At least that’s what my body keeps telling me;-) That, and it’s time to act my age—where’s the fun in that?
I also need to get back to reading. Yes, I spent a year reading very little. It’s so much easier to listen to the mindless AI stories. Incidentally, the SF/F ones, especially HFY are pretty entertaining. IF you like SF/F, give them a try. But, please, I beg of you, do not leave any comments or clicks on them. Don’t help them get better or make it harder for a human writer.
Speaking of AI, a friend sent me an interesting article on X, Footprints in the Sand: The House You Thought Was Emptyby @iruletheworldmo. Or maybe @iruletheworldmo just reposted it? I don’t know, but it is an interesting, and somewhat disconcerting if not downright scary, article on AI. My cousin pointed out to me that Yuval Noah Harari has been writing articles about this for some time. Anyhow, as my friend said when he sent it, it could be written by AI for all he knows. If you can’t open it, and want to read it, please let me know.
Oh, if you haven’t yet discovered Dr. Stacey Patton, you’re in for a treat. Especially her Sunday Sermons! Yes indeedy, this old Atheist is back in the pews yellin’ Amen! and Preach it Rev Staceypants! and anything else appropriate. I think it takes a modicum of courage to read Dr. Stacey’s columns, etc., because she is not dainty, diplomatic, or quiet. She yells it as she sees it and that’s got to be hard on some readers, especially those raised white and privileged. Google her. Check her out. She’s my kinda person!!!
I’ve now read this morning’s sermon, and finished this piece. It is now 7:30am, and the cold (31F) outside my window is black and white, in another 30 minutes or so, it will be in freezing color, but it’s o’cast, and no true sunlight, yet.
And here is my photo of the week. I took it out of my office window of an afternoon a few days ago. Those are Canada Geese in the sky, coming in for a landing.
Have a Marvelous Week, remember to be grateful you’re still looking down at the grass. Remember the words of our Dalai Lama that pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. And tell someone you love them this day.
I was at The Book Tree in Kirkland, WA on Saturday 2 August 2025, to read some poetry from Saying Goodbye to Thomas and other poems to officially launch the book, to send it out into bookstores and the hands and hearts of readers.
I spent time figuring out how condense the video my Sister of Choice, Lee, took of m reading. Finally called my Guru, and he said why not just load it to YouTube and put the link in. So, I did. This was in a bookstore, and you’ll hear me read AND the door bell, as the door opens and closes.
Enjoy the reading. Enjoy meeting Thomas if you weren’t one of the most fortunate to have known him in life, meet him in spirit.
The ISBN: 979-8899900471, take it, the title Saying Goodbye to Thomas, my name ah, come on, you know be my now, I’m Lenora Rain-Lee Good–your favorite Auntie Lenora, and go into your favorite brick and mortar bookstore to order your copy (either paper back or hardback). Remember, all proceeds/royalties will be divided equally between ALS Association and Death With Dignity.
Thank you for your patience while I took a few weeks off. I wasn’t sure where the Brave Dog and I were going, in regards to our Monday Coffee Break Escapes. Part of this is my volunteer job, which is taking more and more time, which is a good thing as I’m happy to be busy, but can also play havoc with any schedule I may have whether or not self imposed;-)
1. Pre orders determine future royalties, so please order now, before it’s too late and your price goes up.
2. ALL royalties will be donated to the ALS Association and End of Life Washington, equally.
Here is a poem from the book. It has previously appeared in the newletters of A Sacred Passing and End of Life Washington.
Your Death, Rehearsed
I rehearsed your death— did you know?
First, it was now and then, slowly became
weekly and then nightly.
Not that I wanted you to die—
We both knew you would.
No, I rehearsed your death
so I wouldn’t come apart at the seams,
so I wouldn’t bring shame to you,
to me. It helped, I think.
Oh, I still hurt, I still cry
but softly. And when you breathed your last
as I held your hand softly stroked your arm,
I could barely form the words, let alone
force sound out of my tear- constricted throat
It’s over. And then we all cried, held each other.
None of us could find, or define, the hole
that suddenly engulfed us, the hole
that gave dimension to our loss
the hole drilled through our hearts.
~ ~ ~
Yes, this one is sad, I’ll try for some humor next week.
You may notice there is a different format to today’s post. Or, perhaps, lack of format? Do you like it better or not?
Sammy says he may, or may not, return. The days are getting warmer, sunnier (yayyy!!), and he’s not sure about schedules other than feedings and walks. He’s stealing my line and claiming to be old and gray-haired.
Attended my first protest yesterday. There were more than a 1000 of us turned out for the Hands Off! protest in Kennewick, there was another protest in Richland, and I’m not sure about Pasco. Not sure how much good it did, but I feel like I’ve done something positive, so that’s worth the time and the standing. Am already planning my signs for next month. 😉
However you spend your week, please spend it with love in your heart and remember:
Mitákuye Oyás’iŋ “We are all related” ~ Lakota Saying
“Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.” ~Walt Whitman
Oof Da! Can you say: Sun? Can you say: Hot? Yep, that be us. Am listening to the ambient music, Miyamoto Musashi: Embracing Loneliness. Not that I’m lonely, but it’s raining in the video. You know, cool.
As you may imagine: Well, I imagine you can imagine this past week was not the bestest in my world. It took a few days for me to get over SCOTUS’ ruling on Monday. Maybe not over it, but through it. Through most of it.
On the sunny side of the street, I was in a bookstore the other day, and came home with two books. Yeah, I know, you’re so surprised. /snort/ One is a book of poetry by Margaret Atwater. I love her poetry, and haven’t seen a new book of hers in a long time. So I am reading Dearly before I turn the light out at night.
The second book is, The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. A small book, maybe 5” x 8”, filled with delightful 2-3 page essays he wrote over a year finding delights where he could, including memories. It is a delightful book, and just what the doctor ordered!
Should you find yourself wandering in a bookstore, wander over to the poetry/essay section and look through his book. Take the time to read a couple of his essays. Shucks, while you’re there, look at Dearly by Margaret Atwood, even if you don’t like poetry. Particularly if you don’t like poetry! Her poems are mini stories in a different form. Try a couple. Perhaps you will walk out of the store with two books (or more).
Also, I discovered some new-to-me channels on YouTube and I thoroughly enjoy them—woodturning and woodworking channels! Absolutely great ways to get my eyes and ears out of the news that is so damn depressing. My two favorite woodworking channels are Foureyes furniture and Blacktail Studio. The guys are fun, they explain what they are doing, what they did wrong, and how they fixed it. I love how they work, too. Would I ever spend $15K on a table? uh, no, but if I decided to, it would be from one of these two guys. And I must be learning something—on Sunday I decided to watch someone else make a table. I was quite taken with the top and I wanted to see how he made it. He made it cheaply. Where the guys above glue and clamp, this guy used way less glue and nails. Where Chris (?) and Cam (above furniture builders) take the time to get every join perfect, where they use several grits of sandpaper, where they spend time finishing their work, the table I was so taken by was very shoddily made. The joins did not match, the sanding was perfunctory, and the finish was sprayed on. I watch they guys for entertainment, but apparently, I’m also getting an education.
If you are in the market for some new and high quality furniture, I strongly suggest you watch a few episodes of the guys at the links above. Not that I’m recommending them to you (which I am) but to see how they work, and what to look for when you go shopping.
By the way, Cam at Blacktail Studio is the one who came up with the Damascus Denim Desk. Yes, a desk made out of denim. Check it out here. Talk about fabric art!!!
Photo of the Week: Yep, it’s me. I had to get some new headshots for the new book, Saying Goodbye to Thomas, which will be ready for pre-order probably in in Feb/Mar 2025. As you undoubtedly know, there are few things I hate worse than having my picture taken. From my POV, I look like Sophia Loren. From the camera’s POV, I look like me. God, what a let-down for all concerned.
photo by Katrina
from the desk of the hot dog; the one and only bad thing about the heat is sometimes the hard, black surface of the driveway where most of my walking is done, is too hot for my feets. otherwise, all this sun and hot is pure heaven for this desert dog. can you see my tail wag.
Music of the Week: Miyamoto Musashi: Embracing Loneliness. Great ambient music to have on, turned low, and write or study by. There are several pieces online for this music. I think if I could play it on the bedside radio I do not have, I could easily sleep with it. No, it doesn’t make me sleepy (couldn’t work or study if it did) but I think it would make great sleeping music.
Quote of the Week:
“Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.” —Walt Whitman
ps: Looking for a nightmare? Give this site a once or twice over: American Autocracy Threat Tracker. Truly scary stuff! But necessary. How sad is that?
