I never catch you
Looking at me
The way I look at you
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Waldron Island
Tin trucks with half-flat tires,
Keys resting in the front seats,
Waldron is a special place.
Not much to fear here,
Hard to get lost with only one road,
But I manage to anyways.
"Go past the big rock, you can't miss it"
I don't miss the big rock,
Wondering how it came to rest in its spot,
As snakes slide into ferns lining the dirt road.
A warning caw from above,
Is aimed at a bald eagle
In search of brunch.
A mile later,
Past the roosters, chicken, and sheep,
I find the largest building on the island:
The school.
Keys resting in the front seats,
Waldron is a special place.
Not much to fear here,
Hard to get lost with only one road,
But I manage to anyways.
"Go past the big rock, you can't miss it"
I don't miss the big rock,
Wondering how it came to rest in its spot,
As snakes slide into ferns lining the dirt road.
A warning caw from above,
Is aimed at a bald eagle
In search of brunch.
A mile later,
Past the roosters, chicken, and sheep,
I find the largest building on the island:
The school.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Gus
Inside the poorly lit cabin, a man sits by himself. The rain has recently stopped, and drops can still be heard from the large maple leaves outside. There is a fire in the fireplace in dire need of two more pieces of chopped alder, but the man isn't going to get up. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he isn't able. The man is old, and he is currently asleep. If the man had a family, he would just be "resting his eyes." Not in deep sleep, for he is only sleeping because he has nothing better to do.
The bottle of red wine beside the old man's chair is three-quarters full (or one-quarter empty, depending on the day). A year ago, he would have been drinking out of a glass, but last summer his last wine glass broke shortly after teetering on the railing of the cabin's back patio overlooking the creek. He thought about replacing the wine glass, but came to the conclusion that there was really no need. He didn't have much time left, and anyways, he had always preferred to drink straight from the bottle.
The fire grows dimmer and the time between rain drops lengthens, lulling the old man into a deeper sleep.
A mouse scurries across the floor along the opposite wall from the fireplace. It can smell both the old man's red wine and Ritz crackers, but it is far more interested in the block of cheese left unprotected. The mouse zips along the wall behind the old man's chair, closing in on its prize.
Unfortunately for the mouse, the old man has a cat. From the mouse's first step in the room, the old man's cat had one eye open and following the mouse's every move. When the mouse disappeared behind the old man's chair, the cat slinked its way down from its resting place in the chair opposite the old man, and the cat moved in behind the clueless mouse.
While close to falling deep asleep, the old man wasn't quite there yet. He sleeps with his eyes open a slit, and although his eyes now aren't sharp enough to detect a mouse across the room, he can detect a 22lb cat moving just a few feet in front of him, and although the cat's movements were quite stealthy for a 22lb cat, it is a difficult task for the cat to hide its excess.
The old man stirs.
"Hmm... Gus. What you after?"
The old man's voice panics the mouse, who tries to retreat, but the hefty cat has blocked his escape route. The panicked mouse races past the cheese, with 22lbs of cat in chase behind him.
"Gus! Git out from behin..."
The mouse darts out in front of the old man, while Gus the hefty cat crashes through the cheese, crackers, and most notably--the three-quarters full bottle of red wine. Gus remains in hot pursuit of the mouse, hardly noticing the objects he has knocked over, as the tiny rodent races out of sight towards the bathroom and eludes Gus in the safety of the cabin's insulated walls. The old man moves the quickest he has in years to save as much of the red wine still pouring out of his bottle.
"Dag gummit, Gus!!"
Only a quarter of the red wine remains, with half of the bottle freshly covering the light brown carpet around the old man's chair. Gus lays in wait by the hole in the wall where the mouse entered. Gus tunes out the shouts of the old man, instead staring intently at the hole, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement, anything, a mouse whisker, a tail... when suddenly, Gus is grabbed by his scruff and held five feet in the air, at eye-level with the old man.
"You cost me a bottle of wine! You're sleeping outside tonight!"
The bottle of red wine beside the old man's chair is three-quarters full (or one-quarter empty, depending on the day). A year ago, he would have been drinking out of a glass, but last summer his last wine glass broke shortly after teetering on the railing of the cabin's back patio overlooking the creek. He thought about replacing the wine glass, but came to the conclusion that there was really no need. He didn't have much time left, and anyways, he had always preferred to drink straight from the bottle.
The fire grows dimmer and the time between rain drops lengthens, lulling the old man into a deeper sleep.
A mouse scurries across the floor along the opposite wall from the fireplace. It can smell both the old man's red wine and Ritz crackers, but it is far more interested in the block of cheese left unprotected. The mouse zips along the wall behind the old man's chair, closing in on its prize.
Unfortunately for the mouse, the old man has a cat. From the mouse's first step in the room, the old man's cat had one eye open and following the mouse's every move. When the mouse disappeared behind the old man's chair, the cat slinked its way down from its resting place in the chair opposite the old man, and the cat moved in behind the clueless mouse.
While close to falling deep asleep, the old man wasn't quite there yet. He sleeps with his eyes open a slit, and although his eyes now aren't sharp enough to detect a mouse across the room, he can detect a 22lb cat moving just a few feet in front of him, and although the cat's movements were quite stealthy for a 22lb cat, it is a difficult task for the cat to hide its excess.
The old man stirs.
"Hmm... Gus. What you after?"
The old man's voice panics the mouse, who tries to retreat, but the hefty cat has blocked his escape route. The panicked mouse races past the cheese, with 22lbs of cat in chase behind him.
"Gus! Git out from behin..."
The mouse darts out in front of the old man, while Gus the hefty cat crashes through the cheese, crackers, and most notably--the three-quarters full bottle of red wine. Gus remains in hot pursuit of the mouse, hardly noticing the objects he has knocked over, as the tiny rodent races out of sight towards the bathroom and eludes Gus in the safety of the cabin's insulated walls. The old man moves the quickest he has in years to save as much of the red wine still pouring out of his bottle.
"Dag gummit, Gus!!"
Only a quarter of the red wine remains, with half of the bottle freshly covering the light brown carpet around the old man's chair. Gus lays in wait by the hole in the wall where the mouse entered. Gus tunes out the shouts of the old man, instead staring intently at the hole, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement, anything, a mouse whisker, a tail... when suddenly, Gus is grabbed by his scruff and held five feet in the air, at eye-level with the old man.
"You cost me a bottle of wine! You're sleeping outside tonight!"
Monday, January 25, 2010
Writin' Time
I've wanted to write, and write more, for a long time now. The block has been huge for some reason, and although I've had ample time and space to write, I just have never gotten started. Hopefully that ends today. What usually ends up stopping me is myself, and editing every little thing along the way until writing is no longer fun. I'd like to be able to just write anything and let it land where it may, but I know it'll be a struggle.
"You really think you'll be something one day?" the man behind the bar asks.
"Definitely," the young musician answers.
The musician finishes coiling the cord around his amp and gives a quick look around the impromptu stage setup in the back of McNaulty's Pub & Eatery. The stage is large enough for him, his guitar, and his friend and accompanying violist, Tessa. If he wants to add anymore band members, he will need to find a new place to play.
"Yeah? Why's that?" asks the bartender.
The musician turns to the bartender, but doesn't answer.
"How come you think you'll hit it big?" says the bartender.
"Well now, Sid," responds the musician, "that isn't the same question you asked earlier. I don't know about hitting it big, I imagine that might happen as well, but to your prior question about 'being something', well, I reckon I'm something right now, and I plan on continuing my being into one day."
The bartender stops counting his tips and stares at the musician.
"You're full of shit," the bartender says.
The musician flashes a smile at the bartender as a car's horn is heard from the propped back door.
"Well," the musician says and he pushes away from the bar and retrieves his guitar and amp, "it sounds like Tessa is ready to go. Tonight was a pleasure, like always, Sid."
"Don't forget to wash that shit-eating grin, you no-talent hack. Now Tessa, that girl has some talent. You're a lucky sonofabitch!"
The musician waves the guitar case as he leaves McNaulty's, kicking the door stop back inside as he makes his exit.
---
"You were great tonight, baby!" the musician says as he hops into the passenger seat of Tessa's white 1995 Toyota Corolla station wagon.
"I'm tired," she says.
"Oh, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink with Mike and Gabe, they invited us to come and join them over at the Wild Rover."
Tessa sighs.
"What?" the musician asks.
"You know I have work tomorrow morning."
"Just one drink?"
"One drink," Tessa says as she shakes her head sideways, "yeah, right."
"I promise."
"I'm tired, and I want to go home. I can drop you off on the way home," Tessa says.
"You really think you'll be something one day?" the man behind the bar asks.
"Definitely," the young musician answers.
The musician finishes coiling the cord around his amp and gives a quick look around the impromptu stage setup in the back of McNaulty's Pub & Eatery. The stage is large enough for him, his guitar, and his friend and accompanying violist, Tessa. If he wants to add anymore band members, he will need to find a new place to play.
"Yeah? Why's that?" asks the bartender.
The musician turns to the bartender, but doesn't answer.
"How come you think you'll hit it big?" says the bartender.
"Well now, Sid," responds the musician, "that isn't the same question you asked earlier. I don't know about hitting it big, I imagine that might happen as well, but to your prior question about 'being something', well, I reckon I'm something right now, and I plan on continuing my being into one day."
The bartender stops counting his tips and stares at the musician.
"You're full of shit," the bartender says.
The musician flashes a smile at the bartender as a car's horn is heard from the propped back door.
"Well," the musician says and he pushes away from the bar and retrieves his guitar and amp, "it sounds like Tessa is ready to go. Tonight was a pleasure, like always, Sid."
"Don't forget to wash that shit-eating grin, you no-talent hack. Now Tessa, that girl has some talent. You're a lucky sonofabitch!"
The musician waves the guitar case as he leaves McNaulty's, kicking the door stop back inside as he makes his exit.
---
"You were great tonight, baby!" the musician says as he hops into the passenger seat of Tessa's white 1995 Toyota Corolla station wagon.
"I'm tired," she says.
"Oh, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink with Mike and Gabe, they invited us to come and join them over at the Wild Rover."
Tessa sighs.
"What?" the musician asks.
"You know I have work tomorrow morning."
"Just one drink?"
"One drink," Tessa says as she shakes her head sideways, "yeah, right."
"I promise."
"I'm tired, and I want to go home. I can drop you off on the way home," Tessa says.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Spark
Stumble into love
Love like blue flames
Embers still hot,
But the fire is out
With no fire, no life
Cold and dark,
Until a spark appears
Out of nowhere
To light a new fire
Love like blue flames
Embers still hot,
But the fire is out
With no fire, no life
Cold and dark,
Until a spark appears
Out of nowhere
To light a new fire
Sunday, November 22, 2009
My Room
This is a description of my current room, formerly Eddie's room, and formerly no one else's (his family bought the house new).
The bed is soft and comfortable, with a tan bed cover and a teal comforter. I think the bed is a queen, but don't quote me on that... maybe it is a double or a twin? It is very comfortable for one person, and spacious enough for two people who like each other.
There are two bedside tables, both with lamps, but I only ever use the lamp closer to the door. The lamp by the window, in a corner, looks sad. Below the sad lamp is a picture Dick took of me on our five-day hike along the John Muir Trail in the high Sierras. I am sitting down near a stream refilling a water bottle on our second-to-last day. It is a serene spot.
On the bedside table with the frequently used lamp, there is a load of other stuff. First and foremost, my trusty, annoying alarm clock. The time reads 9:02pm, and I just set the alarm for 6:00am in hopes of a sub job coming my way early tomorrow. Also on the table is my cell phone, which will probably start ringing around 5am if a sub job is available. I probably don't even need an alarm clock, but just in case. Sitting on the table between the alarm clock and my cell phone is a glass, and that glass is filled about 2/3rds of the way up with Guinness... now 1/2 of the way filled with Guinness. I bought Tyler an 8-pack for his birthday party and decided to buy myself an 8-pack as well.
Underneath my cell phone on the bedside table are two books: "Another Roadside Attraction" by Tom Robbins, and "The Assassins Gallery" by David L. Robbins. I finished Tom's book last Friday, and it was real good. I haven't really started David's book, but I found both in the same section of fiction at the library... under R.
There are a few receipts on the table. The one from Safeway is doubling as a coaster for my glass of Guinness. Nail clippers are nearly hidden from my view, but they are on the table as well. A rock with a piece of rope tied around it is also on my bedside table, a gift from Eddie, and I don't know what I will do with it. Rounding out the bedside table items are: an empty Coors beer can, an empty Blue Moon beer glass, my bulging wallet, the book "Mostly Harmless" by Douglas Adams (in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series), the book "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish" also by Douglas Adams (same series), the book "The Having of Wonderful Ideas" by Eleanor Duckworth (a book from my teaching program), and my keys.
My keychain (in counter-clockwise order):
A bottle opener with the FCB logo (Football Club Barcelona)
A key-chain scanner for the Snohomish Public Library
My parents' house key
Eddie's house key
Motorcycle key
Honda key
A key-chain scanner for LA Fitness
There is a big pillow in the corner of my room where the door opens. It is one of those pillows people snuggle up to at night, a body pillow? But now it is a humble wall pad to stop the door from slamming the wall.
On the inside doorknob hangs my swimsuit, interweb out. On the ground between the door and my bed (which is about four feet) lies my jacket, my backpack, and a hamper of clean clothes yet to be put away. There would normally be dirty clothes in this spot.
In another corner of my room (opposite the unused lamp), the Southwest corner, there is a wicker chair, which I have never sat in. It holds my late grandmother's two cat quilts, made by my aunt. There is a blanket and my ski bibs hanging off the chair's left arm, and there are various papers in the seat of the chair. There is also my brand new neon yellow beanie in the seat of the chair.
Another side table to the left of the chair is filled with stuff. I see a pink piggy bank, that I know is filled with all coins but quarters. A zip-lock bag next to the piggy bank is filled with only quarters. A canister of Airborne sick flu tablets. A candle (haven't used). Batteries. Car air freshener trees. Check book. And a jar of pens.
Motorcycle helmet and gloves on the ground between the table and the walk-in closet. Along with two empty water bottles.
Walk-in closet has clothes in it. And boxes. I'm starting to wane, so I'm going to leave it at that.
Fourth corner of my room, the NW corner, has yet another little table, this one with a plant that I can't tell if it is alive, dead, or plastic. I am leaning towards alive because it looks like the plant is in a vase of water. I haven't watered it in the three months I've been here. The plant spirals upwards with a very skinny trunk and leaves near the top. It looks kind of like an electric coil.
Along the north wall is the widow, shades drawn. The east wall has a picture I never look at, because it is above the bed. South wall is the door and one small framed picture of Toronto, which Eddie left in the room. West wall is where the action is, with two small framed pictures and a larger framed mirror, about 4x as big as the pictures, squarish with a length of about 2.5ft.
All the walls of the room are painted a color between tan and teal, but I can't figure out what it is. The door frames are both wooden color, and the doors are white.
The ceiling has a smoke detector near the door and a nice lamp with a swirly design int the glass in the middle of the ceiling.
The Guinness has left the building. Time for bed.
The bed is soft and comfortable, with a tan bed cover and a teal comforter. I think the bed is a queen, but don't quote me on that... maybe it is a double or a twin? It is very comfortable for one person, and spacious enough for two people who like each other.
There are two bedside tables, both with lamps, but I only ever use the lamp closer to the door. The lamp by the window, in a corner, looks sad. Below the sad lamp is a picture Dick took of me on our five-day hike along the John Muir Trail in the high Sierras. I am sitting down near a stream refilling a water bottle on our second-to-last day. It is a serene spot.
On the bedside table with the frequently used lamp, there is a load of other stuff. First and foremost, my trusty, annoying alarm clock. The time reads 9:02pm, and I just set the alarm for 6:00am in hopes of a sub job coming my way early tomorrow. Also on the table is my cell phone, which will probably start ringing around 5am if a sub job is available. I probably don't even need an alarm clock, but just in case. Sitting on the table between the alarm clock and my cell phone is a glass, and that glass is filled about 2/3rds of the way up with Guinness... now 1/2 of the way filled with Guinness. I bought Tyler an 8-pack for his birthday party and decided to buy myself an 8-pack as well.
Underneath my cell phone on the bedside table are two books: "Another Roadside Attraction" by Tom Robbins, and "The Assassins Gallery" by David L. Robbins. I finished Tom's book last Friday, and it was real good. I haven't really started David's book, but I found both in the same section of fiction at the library... under R.
There are a few receipts on the table. The one from Safeway is doubling as a coaster for my glass of Guinness. Nail clippers are nearly hidden from my view, but they are on the table as well. A rock with a piece of rope tied around it is also on my bedside table, a gift from Eddie, and I don't know what I will do with it. Rounding out the bedside table items are: an empty Coors beer can, an empty Blue Moon beer glass, my bulging wallet, the book "Mostly Harmless" by Douglas Adams (in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series), the book "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish" also by Douglas Adams (same series), the book "The Having of Wonderful Ideas" by Eleanor Duckworth (a book from my teaching program), and my keys.
My keychain (in counter-clockwise order):
A bottle opener with the FCB logo (Football Club Barcelona)
A key-chain scanner for the Snohomish Public Library
My parents' house key
Eddie's house key
Motorcycle key
Honda key
A key-chain scanner for LA Fitness
There is a big pillow in the corner of my room where the door opens. It is one of those pillows people snuggle up to at night, a body pillow? But now it is a humble wall pad to stop the door from slamming the wall.
On the inside doorknob hangs my swimsuit, interweb out. On the ground between the door and my bed (which is about four feet) lies my jacket, my backpack, and a hamper of clean clothes yet to be put away. There would normally be dirty clothes in this spot.
In another corner of my room (opposite the unused lamp), the Southwest corner, there is a wicker chair, which I have never sat in. It holds my late grandmother's two cat quilts, made by my aunt. There is a blanket and my ski bibs hanging off the chair's left arm, and there are various papers in the seat of the chair. There is also my brand new neon yellow beanie in the seat of the chair.
Another side table to the left of the chair is filled with stuff. I see a pink piggy bank, that I know is filled with all coins but quarters. A zip-lock bag next to the piggy bank is filled with only quarters. A canister of Airborne sick flu tablets. A candle (haven't used). Batteries. Car air freshener trees. Check book. And a jar of pens.
Motorcycle helmet and gloves on the ground between the table and the walk-in closet. Along with two empty water bottles.
Walk-in closet has clothes in it. And boxes. I'm starting to wane, so I'm going to leave it at that.
Fourth corner of my room, the NW corner, has yet another little table, this one with a plant that I can't tell if it is alive, dead, or plastic. I am leaning towards alive because it looks like the plant is in a vase of water. I haven't watered it in the three months I've been here. The plant spirals upwards with a very skinny trunk and leaves near the top. It looks kind of like an electric coil.
Along the north wall is the widow, shades drawn. The east wall has a picture I never look at, because it is above the bed. South wall is the door and one small framed picture of Toronto, which Eddie left in the room. West wall is where the action is, with two small framed pictures and a larger framed mirror, about 4x as big as the pictures, squarish with a length of about 2.5ft.
All the walls of the room are painted a color between tan and teal, but I can't figure out what it is. The door frames are both wooden color, and the doors are white.
The ceiling has a smoke detector near the door and a nice lamp with a swirly design int the glass in the middle of the ceiling.
The Guinness has left the building. Time for bed.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Driving To And From Work
My first day teaching up in Everett was today. The day went well, substitute teaching was great, but the most memorable part of the day was during my drives to and from work. I don't know if I've ever driven I-5 north of Seattle at 7am before, but the stretch just south of Everett is majestic. The freeway is elevated, and to the east is a long valley of farmland, flanked by the rugged Cascade Mountains. This morning, the valley was completely covered in a thick layer of fog. From the freeway all I could see was a blanket of fog, then the sharp peaks of the Cascades, back lit by the sun, and nothing but blue sky.
On the way home, I caught the sight again, without the fog, and with the mountains front lit instead of back lit. Not nearly as breathtaking, but still beautiful. The drive home provided a weird encounter with a spider. A tiny spider. This tiny spider appeared a few minutes into the drive, slowly walking across the dashboard of my car. Right in front of the steering wheel. It was just kind of chilling out, enjoying the ride. I was fine to let it chill on the dashboard--better on the dashboard than dangling from the ceiling above my head. The spider kept making its way towards the open window, then scurrying back to the middle, seemingly scared of the gusting wind. I enjoyed the show as I drove, and then I wondered if I put my finger out, would it climb on? I touched the side of the dashboard, making a bridge for the spider with my index finger. The spider stopped. It didn't run away, and then, not two seconds after I had placed my finger on the dash, it walked onto my fingernail. I had not thought about it actually climbing up my hand. I freaked out and flicked it out of the window. I felt bad about it afterwards, but I don't think I'll lose sleep over it. I had not intended to kill the guy, and who knows, he could still be alive and kicking, but the experience was very odd.
On the way home, I caught the sight again, without the fog, and with the mountains front lit instead of back lit. Not nearly as breathtaking, but still beautiful. The drive home provided a weird encounter with a spider. A tiny spider. This tiny spider appeared a few minutes into the drive, slowly walking across the dashboard of my car. Right in front of the steering wheel. It was just kind of chilling out, enjoying the ride. I was fine to let it chill on the dashboard--better on the dashboard than dangling from the ceiling above my head. The spider kept making its way towards the open window, then scurrying back to the middle, seemingly scared of the gusting wind. I enjoyed the show as I drove, and then I wondered if I put my finger out, would it climb on? I touched the side of the dashboard, making a bridge for the spider with my index finger. The spider stopped. It didn't run away, and then, not two seconds after I had placed my finger on the dash, it walked onto my fingernail. I had not thought about it actually climbing up my hand. I freaked out and flicked it out of the window. I felt bad about it afterwards, but I don't think I'll lose sleep over it. I had not intended to kill the guy, and who knows, he could still be alive and kicking, but the experience was very odd.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
