The Darrell Project by Jim Knowles

It's folded like an accordion, with an intriguing piece of art on the first fold. This little gem fans out to a front and back page of rich, well written poetry. Jim is offering a free copy to the first people to comment. Go for it. I love mine! Jim is the master of saying the most in the least amount of words in his own special 'Jim' style, and does it so well. Your fans want more, Jim.

Go to his page for a jpeg of the project, including some sample poems. His blog is at JimK-eclectics.blogspot.com. This hot link opens directly to the page, in a separate window.

Thanks, Jim, for creating yet another way to share good poetry.

Back to Boston 1989 (repost of a 2005 note)

****(A visitor's search showing on my visitor's log led me back to this old post. When I wrote this, both cousins were alive. Becky died a few years after, at age 49 , of esophageal cancer, and Dee, this past spring of 2009 of a massive heart attack. I miss them both deeply)



Of all the places I've lived, Boston and Honolulu rank highest in my estimation. Boston was a city of high energy and multiple universities, a city of the old and the new, a city of The Boston Pops and The Boston Symphony. The Charles River meandered along city's edge and, in summer, was filled with small sailboats, weaving the waters between Boston proper and Cambridge. If it hadn't been for the endless snow, the commutes of over an hour, sometimes in blizzard conditions, I don't think I would have ever left. The above photo is of sidewalk art, close to the Trolly kiosk at the Boston Commons, a popular gathering place for folk to sprawl on blankets in warm weather or wander down into Boston Gardens, where masses of flowers were planted each Spring. The Hari Krishnas usually danced near this spot, with a container out for money, hoping to recruit a new member.

Newberry Street reached up from the Commons, in the opposite direction of downtown proper. It was the home of ritzy shops and buildings edged in ivy, such as the one where my cousin Becky stands in this photo. She and I had traveled to Boston to help settle some financial matters for her older sister, the cousin closest to my age in the family. Ironically, my first husband's law firm was handling the matter and so I saw him for the fourth time after moving from Boston, not knowing that would also likely be our last visit together. I put him through law school during our marriage in the seventies and was by then a quite successful lawyer in Providence.

This is one of the many fabulous beaches north of Boston...Revere Beach. Becky and Dee are in this photo. Even in the warmest weather, however, the water remains icy cold. I swam off of our sailboat once when I lived there, but on most sailing days, we needed a jacket and jeans by afternoon's end.

Copley Plaza! You can see old buildings and new very well in this photo. That's me with Dee in this photo. Behind us is the infamous John Hancock tower, the object of much debate when it was built. An uproar was raised because of its very modern design, but the reasoning of the architects was that, with its reflective surface, it would mirror the old in the city and blend. The reason I'm sure they DIDN'T mention was that higher was better in terms of rental revenue. Midway after construction was underway, windows started flying from the building as it swayed with the wind. This sway was supposedly accounted for in the plans, but it didn't work. While new architects worked frantically for a solution, boards were placed over walkways anywhere near the building and the circumference around the landing area of these glass missiles was off limits entirely. The population was not happy.

Boston, a place of many mixed memories for me. When the trip was over, I didn't know that CFIDS was already a time bomb in my body and this would be the last trip I made over the next, as yet, indeterminate number of years

Trying to lose weight

It's hard when you can't exercise like before ME/CFS, but I've whittled off 10 pounds and want to get around 15 more off. Cross your fingers for me. I couldn't get far enough back from the cam to hit the mouse for the photo, but that chub belly is what I need to lose. And to think, I used to try to gain weight because I was too skinny for most of my early years. Sigh....




a robin
nibbles at the plump worm
between-meals snack

Crying Roy Orbison and k.d. lang

Thought I would post a youtube video I've watched many times since I found it. I love this old song and the way they did the video dazzles.



and...if you like this one, go to the youtube link directly for this Black and White Nights special with a slew of great singers with him....The 'Boss', Tom Waits, Elvis Costello, Jackson Browne, Bonnie Raitt, k.d. lang again....more.

Sweet Dreams Baby (Black and White Night

Yikes!

I clicked follow to follow a blog that opened as a window on my page and now find I'm following MYSELF. Oh dear. Does anyone know how to 'unfollow'???

Never mind. I clicked on my picture, chose options, got my profile and stopped following myself. Whew. For a minute there I felt like my own shadow.

Night folks. The brain is gone when I do things like this.

Powerful blog on living with ME/CFS and Multiple Chemical Sensitivities

The following blog was featured on Cort Johnson's Phoenix Rising newsletter. This couple was originally exposed to something toxic in the apartment, developed MCS along with CFS. They finally moved into a tent to escape their increased sensitivities to chemicals around them. I have moderate chemical sensitivites but know that people who never have had this problem tend to scoff. Believe me, it's real. Their story is one of courage, determination and also one of love. Read it at Sundog Tales

Continuing to try to see!

I'm still typing with my eyes closed and using my eyes and light both hurt. I can't read yet, watch a movie on tv, work on the computer. I'm putting this up to let everyone know I've not disappeared.

My new Canon 12MP 20X zoom digital camera has arrived and I'm beginning to learn the controls, which are in different places than my Fuji. I love the camera, though, and am eager to get out there and start shooting photos.

I'm uploading one that was taken before I found where shutter priority was located, but this was long zoom, hand-held with the flower bobbing back and forth in the wind. It has a slight blur. Had I been able to set a fast shutter speed, I think I would've avoided the blur. As you can see, though, given that movement, the shutter lag is minimal and the image stabilization helps tremendously.




I'm also adding , for laughs, how I was dressed yesterday and today. Shot from my webcam. Different socks but dressed that way today. 29 this a.m. in sunny South Florida!

If I don't reply to comments in a timely fashion , I have to ration out how often I can use my eyes. They're better than at the beginning, but still a work in progress.

A New Years Eve memory....

My eyes continue to keep me mostly off the computer, but I'm hoping this year will be a stronger one.

Anyway, this is one of my favorite New Years Eve memories because it was so different.

Back when I was living in a Boston commune with the nameless R who traveled down the east coast with me in my book, Sea Trails, I'd flown to Pageland, S.C., my hometown, for Christmas. My plane was due in mid-evening New Year's Eve. There were delays. I picked up a bottle of cold champagne at Logan and caught a taxi with another gal headed up Commonwealth. It was creeping towards midnight and I'd told R I would try my best to get there in time to be there with him. Traffic became a parking lot at the Commons and the clock was ticking down ten minutes to midnight. I told the cabbie to open the trunk. I quickly got out the champagne, popped the cork and all three of us took a swig from the bottle as the people in the cars all around us started screaming Happy New Year. It was exhilarating. R was up and waiting when I got there. Those were in the times when we were still giddy with each other and I was glad to rush into his arms.

a blue moon drifts
over roaring crowds
the Tiger arrives