Thursday, July 28, 2016
It amused me today to work on my catfish sonnet while watching anglers fishing for Rainbow trout on the Deschutes River.
I really wanted to go and ask them if I could rifle through their tackle box so I could finish my research on fishing tackle. (No cell phone service for me!)
My conclusion for this writing time was,
"Writing sonnets can take me to strange places in my poems- places I never intended to go- usually because of the rhyme I am trying to make."
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
A new title.
First, you have to know I HATE RECYCLING. I hate the ugly mess of it lying around everywhere. I hate cleaning it and storing it. It smells. It looks ugly. It creates clutter. I also know a lot of times it is not recycled at the landfill but just dumped. It is all a matter of money and when prices go down it is dumped.
Marcus recycles. He saves every plastic and glass jar. They spill out of cupboards. Tin cans?- a plethora of them in the sink, in the dishwasher, and on the counter. Stacks of paper? Yep, they overflow onto the dining room floor. Plastic jugs? If they can can't be reused they are stacked somewhere else. The house is cluttered with recycling because he stores it up to put out at the curb once a month.
I hate recycling. I would much rather just throw it away. Maybe it comes from being married to a garbage man for 33 years. I know of many a road paved with broken glass.
It occurred to me last week that I have been recycled. At first, I was debris because I was thrown away by my husband and by my children. My job threw me away. I felt like trash, garbage, debris for so long. it made me angry because I at least had the sense to realize I am not debris. Just because I've been thrown away does not mean I am trash. I am valuable.
I have recycled myself and repurposed myself. I have found a man who treats me like I am a treasure.
Hence ; Debris/ Recycled.