I have found that sometimes when I sit down in front of the keyboard I have very little inspiration from which to draw. I suppose you, as the reader have found that out as well. Unfortunately, I don't think this is really very remarkable. I suppose that anyone who would try to write something every day would find him or herself running on empty from time to time.
Last night, I came home from a closing which was originally scheduled in Pike County, somewhere between Hollonville and Concord. The place was a cattle farm way out in the middle of nowhere. As I travelled out 362 toward Hollonville, I ran across few drivers. The sun was drifting down toward the horizon and the pastures were a vibrant green from the recent rains.
I turned off of 362 down the Concord Road toward Concord. After several miles, I cut off that road down Caldwell Bridge Road, a gravel road which is middling maintained. I saw a lot of cattle and damn few people.
I find that when I am trying to find someplace which is strange to me it takes me longer to get there than it does to return. At least that is the way it seems. Neverthless, I finally found the cattle farm and pulled off the road and up and over the hills to the house. When I got there, a guy in jeans and no shirt was mowing the yard around the house.
I knocked on the door and no one answered. About the time the guy came around the corner of the house on his riding lawnmower, he saw me and cut the engine. I asked him if he was the borrower and he said no.
I went back to my car to wait and try to contact the borrowers on my cell phone. Of course, we were too far out in the country to get a good signal. After about fifteen or twenty minutes of trying to reach the borrowers, I headed back down the gravel driveway to the road.
It occurred to me at that point that this was the same people for whom I had conducted a closing at the beginning of the month. With that in mind, and continually trying to reach them by cellphone, I headed north toward Brooks.
About the time I reached the general area of their home, I caught them on my cellphone and verified that they, indeed, were expecting me at their house. So, I continued on to their house and conducted the closing rather quickly and headed home for the evening.
Cindy and Kate had eaten so I caught a couple of hotdogs on the way and got home to relax a little before bedtime.
At ten, Cindy informed us that we were going to bed early. I dressed for bed and climbed into our bed and read until I fell asleep. That seemed fine until about 12:30 in the morning, when I woke up again. Cindy had got up out of bed and when she returned to bed and started snoring heavily, I slipped out of bed and went upstairs to try to sleep in the bed above our bedroom. After several hours of fitful thrashing and treading down the stairs to turn down the thermostat so the air conditioning would come on, I finally got comfortable enough to go to sleep.
This morning I am very tired. Fun, fun, fun. A new day of fun for Tommy.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Bills, bills, bills
This is the beginning of the new week. We will enter August this week and leave July behind us. July was basically a good month with a lot of money paid by clients and creditors paid. In turn. I am trying to make it all work and I need some cooperation from the ones around me. I am looking for help. It doesn't help when the clients don't want to pay and the assistants only come in for part of the day. I don't blame Kate; she has mono and it affects her ability to handle a full day. But Patti has no excuse and she has caused me some problems that I am still paying for.
I am on the verge of quite a week of litigation. I need to get some bills out, particularly follow-up bills on unpaid accounts. I need to get Patti involved in it. This is difficult when the simplest things seem to bog her down. If I could get Kate more involved in the smaller details it would help.
I hope that the Teague matter closes and that Hector gets his ducks in a row so we close his matters at the end of the week. That will help. It would also help if Edwards closes some time soon.
I hope I can get the money flowing smoothly. I need some help.
I am on the verge of quite a week of litigation. I need to get some bills out, particularly follow-up bills on unpaid accounts. I need to get Patti involved in it. This is difficult when the simplest things seem to bog her down. If I could get Kate more involved in the smaller details it would help.
I hope that the Teague matter closes and that Hector gets his ducks in a row so we close his matters at the end of the week. That will help. It would also help if Edwards closes some time soon.
I hope I can get the money flowing smoothly. I need some help.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Catching the breeze
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
There is so much involved
To move along in a business-like manner.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
The lines must be just so to tighten the sheets
Against the prevailing wind, or with it,
Run and tack, run and tack,
Then cut free to sail at the touch of the wind
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky,
The breeze in your face, the salt on your lips
The salt-spray kicking up from the prow.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
Eyes on the sea; eyes on the sky
Watch for ships; watch for reefs
There is no break, except when at anchor
But for the sweet flow of the water
As the knife of the prow cuts the waves before us.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
In a motorized boat, no matter the size
Or how expensive, or luxurious
We forge ahead, no concern for the breeze
Except how it presages the weather ahead.
For sure, you might look for the profile of other ships
Or rocks or coral reefs,
But no worry, as the ship churns its diesel fuel
And the screws dumbly propel the ship on its heading
Amid the smoke and vibration and noise
A good, solid blunt-instrument at sea.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
But here under sail, the world is in harmony
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
Sailing along with the flow of the sea
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
As the sails tug and touch at the wind
And pull the boat forward
Toward our next port of call.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
There is so much involved
To move along in a business-like manner.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
The lines must be just so to tighten the sheets
Against the prevailing wind, or with it,
Run and tack, run and tack,
Then cut free to sail at the touch of the wind
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky,
The breeze in your face, the salt on your lips
The salt-spray kicking up from the prow.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
Eyes on the sea; eyes on the sky
Watch for ships; watch for reefs
There is no break, except when at anchor
But for the sweet flow of the water
As the knife of the prow cuts the waves before us.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
In a motorized boat, no matter the size
Or how expensive, or luxurious
We forge ahead, no concern for the breeze
Except how it presages the weather ahead.
For sure, you might look for the profile of other ships
Or rocks or coral reefs,
But no worry, as the ship churns its diesel fuel
And the screws dumbly propel the ship on its heading
Amid the smoke and vibration and noise
A good, solid blunt-instrument at sea.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky.
But here under sail, the world is in harmony
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
Sailing along with the flow of the sea
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
As the sails tug and touch at the wind
And pull the boat forward
Toward our next port of call.
The green of the sea and the blue of the sky
Hall of Fame, Cooperstown, 2007
We were watching the Hall of Fame inductions in Cooperstown today. I turned over to it to listen to Tony Gwynne talk about his induction. I then got Cindy and Kate to turn the television over to the channel so Kate could watch Cal Ripken, Jr's induction. He was always her favorite. She remembered watching him breaking Lou Gehrig's record for consecutive games played in Baltimore and hitting a home run in front of his family and the home Baltimore crowd. It was very emotional. Then she remembered when we went to see the Braves play the Orioles at Turner Field and watching him get a plaque from the Braves management. I thought it was perfect because Kate got to see him honored and then the Braves won the game in the end. I remember calling Luke in Florida and letting him know that we were there for the Braves game and Cal Ripken's honoring and he was very jealous. Of course, his dad has taken him to quite a few games down in Florida and elsewhere.
When Kate was a little bit older than a toddler, she used to come into the dugout at my softball games to watch the games. I have always tried to take Kate to games, whether they were baseball, football, basketball or hockey games. I am glad she enjoys these games. I know she likes baseball the best. That's ok. It has always been up to me to watch the basketball games and football is still the family game.
Games are fun. Games can teach you things. Games can elicit your emotions, your character and your time. Maybe too much time. That's ok, it has provided time between the generations and forged us together in ways other things could not.
That scene in City Slickers is the most dispositive of this. When the guys explain why baseball was so important to them. It's true, baseball and the other games can provide a connection between the generations which is unbelievably important, so much more than you would expect under the circumstances.
When Kate was a little bit older than a toddler, she used to come into the dugout at my softball games to watch the games. I have always tried to take Kate to games, whether they were baseball, football, basketball or hockey games. I am glad she enjoys these games. I know she likes baseball the best. That's ok. It has always been up to me to watch the basketball games and football is still the family game.
Games are fun. Games can teach you things. Games can elicit your emotions, your character and your time. Maybe too much time. That's ok, it has provided time between the generations and forged us together in ways other things could not.
That scene in City Slickers is the most dispositive of this. When the guys explain why baseball was so important to them. It's true, baseball and the other games can provide a connection between the generations which is unbelievably important, so much more than you would expect under the circumstances.
Sunday morning garden
Sunday morning in the garden.
I awoke this morning early and read from my Bible
In preparation for the task
Of assisting Reverend Dalstrom
In leading worship this morning
I then walked out into the wet garden
Gathering the rubber hose
From its place of repose
Near the bushes planted next to the house
And stretching its length across the grass
Passing it through the path of the sunlight's wandering
Working through the cover of the thick leaves on the trees
I connect the lengths of hose
And twist the handle on the spigot
Loosing the flow of water
On the back garden
God and I in partnership this fine Summer morning,
Sitting down to rest in the cool shade of the patio
Enjoying His gifts which we both shall tend.
I awoke this morning early and read from my Bible
In preparation for the task
Of assisting Reverend Dalstrom
In leading worship this morning
I then walked out into the wet garden
Gathering the rubber hose
From its place of repose
Near the bushes planted next to the house
And stretching its length across the grass
Passing it through the path of the sunlight's wandering
Working through the cover of the thick leaves on the trees
I connect the lengths of hose
And twist the handle on the spigot
Loosing the flow of water
On the back garden
God and I in partnership this fine Summer morning,
Sitting down to rest in the cool shade of the patio
Enjoying His gifts which we both shall tend.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Hands in movement
I see it now :
Tender, slender hands
Soft, sweet flesh
Moving slowly through the flowing
Like a stream before my eyes
The sun presenting jewel shapes off the surfaces
But the hands, the tender shoots
Branching across, left to right, right to left
The slow, slender fingers
Passing on their own across my vision,
In patterns and melodies of sound and life and movement
A slow, passing symphony of touch
Touching the syrup air
Turning the heat to coolness
In its movement of peaceful joy
And the slow, slow flowing
The clock hands fluid
A harmony of thin clouds across the blue sky
A melody of parts in concert before my eyes.
Tender, slender hands
Soft, sweet flesh
Moving slowly through the flowing
Like a stream before my eyes
The sun presenting jewel shapes off the surfaces
But the hands, the tender shoots
Branching across, left to right, right to left
The slow, slender fingers
Passing on their own across my vision,
In patterns and melodies of sound and life and movement
A slow, passing symphony of touch
Touching the syrup air
Turning the heat to coolness
In its movement of peaceful joy
And the slow, slow flowing
The clock hands fluid
A harmony of thin clouds across the blue sky
A melody of parts in concert before my eyes.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Writing theory
Friday night is here. I wish I could feel like it wasn't past me already. Cindy and Kate are in the living room watching an episode of "What not to wear" which I have to confess I have already seen. I am at the computer, considering which of my most recent poems I could submit to some the Southern literary quarterlies. I would love to see some of my poems published in one of these. Cindy thinks I should submit one of my poems to several different publications.
I would love to succeed at my writing. I would love to be published. My problem is that when I have liked my work in the past, I changed my mind later. I go through a love hate relationship with all of it. It doesn't hold up to the test of time.
I look through all of the poems in my collection of blogs and I like some of them. But I seem to do better when I think about it before hand and then sit down and throw it all out very quickly. The time becomes the preparation. The actual writing occurs over a short period of time.
One of the lessons I learned in college in football was that the preparation or practice was so important and translated into the actual games, rather than trying to work it all during the games themselves. The effort has to occur prior to the actual effort.
You can't create the effort in the game without the main effort occurring in your preparation for the game. The preparation is the most important part of the game.
What this means for my poetry involves going through the idea prior to the actual writing and then doing it on paper. I think if I create a theme or a plot beforehand, the ability to put it on paper will go better.
Maybe what I need is a real journal where I put themes and plot synopses and even characters from which I can draw later.
I would love to succeed at my writing. I would love to be published. My problem is that when I have liked my work in the past, I changed my mind later. I go through a love hate relationship with all of it. It doesn't hold up to the test of time.
I look through all of the poems in my collection of blogs and I like some of them. But I seem to do better when I think about it before hand and then sit down and throw it all out very quickly. The time becomes the preparation. The actual writing occurs over a short period of time.
One of the lessons I learned in college in football was that the preparation or practice was so important and translated into the actual games, rather than trying to work it all during the games themselves. The effort has to occur prior to the actual effort.
You can't create the effort in the game without the main effort occurring in your preparation for the game. The preparation is the most important part of the game.
What this means for my poetry involves going through the idea prior to the actual writing and then doing it on paper. I think if I create a theme or a plot beforehand, the ability to put it on paper will go better.
Maybe what I need is a real journal where I put themes and plot synopses and even characters from which I can draw later.
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