02-02-2020

Yesterday I joined several friends from qigong class at the Riner Fire Department's oyster and turkey dinner. We had wine and appetizers at Jill B's first, in her wonderful newly renovated open kitchen. But as good as the fried oysters were (not nearly as tasty as Gulf oysters), Ezra's photo posts from Vietnam of the delicious meals he is enjoying, unintentionally mock my taste of seafood here in the winter mountains! Do wish there was a good Vietnamese restaurant here, I would love some Pho. I think I need to try to make some (buy some pasture raised beef and/or buffalo bones). 

Had to post an ocean photograph, tide out. The shadow of the palms striking; the clouds handsome - and my grands making a perfect scene. Miss them! True has survived the first week of the cast on his left arm; he fell at school from a jungle gym. Doctor said no soccer - and, of course, no swimming/ surfing. 

Had a very delicious dinner at Ann's, her Christmas gift to Web+. We began with a gin and grapefruit/lime juice cocktail (probably another ingredient i am forgetting) and cheese, seated in front of a fire in her great room. Diane and Susan had picked up Pat (they had given her a message first!). What energetic conversations at the table, recounting tales of our children, eating an appetizer of stuffed portobello. A main course of deliciously tender roast beef with a spinach sauce, roasted potatoes and Kathy's brussels sprouts. Ann even made a flourless chocolate cake and we shared gifts. Although Pat is using a walker, she is driving and looks very good. She does have to have surgery soon to remove the metal rod in her leg - she is not looking forward to that. Oh a dear wonderful evening. 

with an empty feeling

Moving through the day, realizing about 9 am that I do not have to dress out of my old gardening garb, I slow down, even sitting in a chair on my deck under the shade of the red bud. Six shows and we began to gain a momentum as if the next weekend might repeat, but no we are loose into our own idiosyncratic habitats!
I vow to add committed writing time to my schedule, not just my afternoon escape from the heat reading/writing time, but a before opening the chickens hiatus! Well, it's a thought. I want to work on a poem that has been chasing my thoughts, usually when driving, that hinges on "I was that only one who could tell you apart." My mother's words to which she added the action of switching our birth bracelets. At Turo hospital in New Orleans in the spring of 1945, babies received bracelets which were made of small beads. I have mine still with "baldwin baby B." I wonder if I am really Mary. My twin Mimi certainly looked more like our grandmother, Mary, with her rounder face. Whereas I had the more oval face like our grandmother, Mildred.  I imagine that my mother got caught switching them, swearing that she had them right. Who would care, really. Only for 51 years, Mildred Baldwin has been engraved on the Hayne granite head stone in Metairie Cemetary. 
Identity has been an issue for me; I tend to twin with others. I do think that I married my first husband for among other reasons (that he stood up to  my mother's berating of me, for one) that he seemed to know what he was doing, he had direction. NORTH!

OPENING NIGHT!

The plan is to take a nap as Miss Katrina woke me up with her scratching on the closet door and meowing. I can feel excitement in my throat and chest. There will be much energy in the black box theater tonight with a full house. Dress rehearsal went well, a bit slow. Diane helped us all with make-up, but my lips were a little too bright - said Bob! I swallowed a few words of a line in my melanoma poem - but no one seemed to notice.We had not been able to coax many folks to rehearsal, but Molly and her friend Tacy and Andy came - which was certainly better than no one. It is more fun, now that we relate to each other on stage; Ann and Liz and I get to act up on stage at several points: we dance while Diane speaks her "Boot scootin boogie" poem, and we jostle on the ottoman while Diane does her "goddess"poem. Ann slipped slightly during her dance, but she giggled so very delightfully that - recovering as if it was nothing - I thought it endearing. Liz has a sore throbbing tooth which gave her some problem with her opening story - but she so valiantly rises to the occasion that the story unfolded more wonderfully than ever. It is as if, now that we have rehearsed this into our bones, we are able to be ourselves on stage - and it is fun. Whatever else the audience may take away, they will have a chance to see six women be their authentic selves.

Rain

I will not complain. Rain. The river is running much as it did when I arrived here, 40 years ago when the river was navigable and the garden seldom needed watering. We have taken to tubing; grand-daughter all by herself on a yellow ring. I have beaucoup sugar snap peas and I eat them at least for two meals. While the west roasts in record high temperatures, it is cool here in the mornings, cool enough for a quilt at night. I can not complain. Though the clothes on the line appear weary.

WE ARE IN REHEARSAL AGAIN: LOOSE THREADS in performance the 2nd and 3rd weekends in July in the black bog theatre at VA Tech. Susan is coming out today so that we can read over the script together. The space of this theatre confronts me with a panic push into NOW where I can still fumble lines, struggling with the sheer emotional surges the poems urge in present time. It is wonderful, frightening and illuminating.
 

June, continent rolled

Busy, anxious, excited. Wet June benefiting garden; blooms profuse in pea row, potatoes magnificent, beans just sprouting under teepees I assembled by myself! Caught a ground hog today in trap; poor one must have been in the trap quite awhile, as he/she died before the executioner arrived. We began practicing for our LOOSE THREADS performance in July with two dramaturge: Ann and Suzanna. The theatre 101 stage is in the round, black walls and floor, a black hole! perfect for "its all about death." Much to work on, but tightening up the transitions, intention, movement. Blocking new enough to catch me; swimming to ottoman at west end of stage. (Use compass directions to denote space in theatre in the round.) I've killed a copperhead  with Alma's help by the chimney, and liberated 3 black snakes from chicken house. We all anticipate news of date to return to Ethiopia to bring home baby brother. But most anxious development in June was Ezra's stay in the hospital with what was diagnosed as mono caused by CMV virus. He is mercifully home, gradually recovering from horrid night sweats, fever, painful cough and great fatigue. I feel I am slowly collecting myself, two weeks before we begin rehearsals in earnest at end of June. 
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