musings in mayhem

writer, mom, tutor, superwoman

Archive for the month “September, 2012”

equinox mantis

Happy Equinox, Preying Mantis.  Your camouflage is beautiful for the new season, but it doesn’t work very well at dawn with the frame of the slider screen.

That is the corner of Captain Comic’s sleeve in the the house. He was fascinated. “What the heck IS that thing?”

I’ve been seeing preying mantii (is that how to pluralize them?) since springtime, and this is the first time one had brown. The others were all bright green. Do they change with the seasons? Do they change with age? Are some this way and some that? I have know idea, but prefer to keep it a mystery for the time being. Besides, I really need another cup of coffee.

la grande dame

 

 

5.1(ish).1996 – 9.19.2012

Babette was the cat’s cat.

Not much I can say right now. Her passing was traumatic, but she was on that last decline anyway, moving slowly, not eating much, no more climbing stairs or fence jumping for a few months.

She was an integral part of our family for 16 years.

We will adopt another rescued cat to fill the void soon. This is the first time in my life, since 1973, that I am completely catless.

We all miss her very much. She was good old girl.

squeaky wheel

Poetry

Too long since I’ve poemed,
but this morning I saw a globe sunrise in the north.
It turned out to be a reflection,
the ceiling light in the kitchen window pane.
An illusion to muse by after
too long wandering in the wondering wilderness.

Only a little truth lives above, I have
stepped to practical steps around the kids.
A cup of coffee before the day, a hustle, a bustle
some seasons by moonlight, in that moonlight
sometimes daylight, sometimes halflight of storms,
I’ve been shuffling and dragging.
My body gets older, my mind gets foggy,
the earth rotates through light and dark.
Suddenly the days have carouseled the sun.
I was lost in orbit, a stationary mare.

Words dim elevator music at the dentist’s office,
in the grocery store, the labor room, and parent teacher conferences.

Love and heartbreak and ocean waves constant
unyielding beauty still walk with me through
practical steps. No sestinas,
a few improvised limericks and laughter
words clicking their heels, rolling their vowels
in the back of my mind like an old melody I could never cut loose.

Not anymore.

day one 2012-2013

Mr. Cynic is a senior. A cool senior.

This is how he really feels about it.

I swear I just gave him lipstick kisses on his belly to reassure him as he went off to preschool.

Captain Comic was up and at ’em well before dawn, but this is his official stance.

Me: So how do you feel about eighth grade?

Capt. Comic: Eh, cause it’s (counts on fingers outloud) nine and a half months of labor.

Toots has been ready to start at her new preschool since the day her old preschool ended back in June. Every morning of the summer started with an enthusiastic”Is it time for school yet?!” or a tentative, “Is summer over yet?”  She is in the PM program at what will be her Elementary School. but she was ready to go first thing this morning.

For her, it is all about the Dora backpack.

Sigh. They grow so fast.

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