TWO OLD HEROES

"Autumn is a fine season... At night there is the high wedge and honk of birds flying south... making the woodpile grow..." Some words from Meridel LeSueur... and me. Thoreau had spent many days "trying to hear what was in the wind..." Then Yeats offered his advice, "Never give all the heart For everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind delight..."

Sewed 10 yards of fabric strips for Seminole patchwork. Will try to find time to cut tomorrow. Perhaps assemble and sew a bit, too. It's a long process. But beautiful results. Also baked ginger cookies. Cedar likes them.

I dreamed that I opened the door and found Robert Duvall standing on the welcome mat. "I come to help you move," he said. I looked him up and down. I thought, "He couldn't move a box of feathers." He laughed in that embarrassed way he has and said, "Well, I brought a friend who is big and strong." In stepped Sidney Poitier. He was very young and dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and tie. He had just stepped out of the old movie, "To Sir, With Love". I had to tell them the truth. "I'm not moving at this time." They both smiled and bowed. I closed the door on two old heroes.

A QUIET DESPERATION

In my dream I was walking down a dirt road. It was dark but for the stars. I didn't know where I was but I knew where I was going. My right ankle was hurting. Suddenly I heard someone walking behind me and turned to find a horse following me. He asked, "Wanna ride?" "Yes, a ride would be well appreciated. I'm going home," I said. He got down so I could get on his back. At first I enjoyed riding through the night but I was not getting home. I told the horse to stop and let me down. The horse did not speak but kept going. I knew it was a dream so I woke up and found myself at home and no horse in sight.

Gladys T was focused on personal gratitude because she found it "too easy to let the world's trouble sweep over one in a dark flood..." Well we know what Thoreau would tell us. "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."

Ed got Gloria and I each a mechanical parrot. It dances and it sings. It has a recorder and repeats what it hears. Cedar is going to have fun with it.

ALLAN HOUSER

May S had only one word for today (1982), "Dismal". Gladys T was giving her books away, as am I. She wrote, "I find this a great emotional upheaval. Every book was somebody's dream once..." She went on to say that each book represented struggle, anguish, joy and pain. Thoreau wrote, "Every man (woman) looks at his (her) woodpile with a kind of affection." Yes, I have loved many and many woodpiles. I couldn't help myself. They had so much to offer. I still love a good pile of wood when I see it... so full of promises of warm days and cozy nights.

HH Humphrey, "A man without a job, without any opportunity to care for himself and his family develops a sense of bitterness and rejection." For many who are poor... their friends are poor... they may live in poor neighborhoods, depressed communities, a culture of poverty.

At the library today Cedar and I got a printed list of Hans Christian Anderson's published stories. There are 27 on the list and we have read 4. So we have many more pages to turn with Cedar snuggled close against me... images dancing through her mind.

When we were in NM several years ago we visited Allan Houser's sculpture garden. We took many photos. As I was leaving, one of the young men gave me a small chair he'd made from broken bits of bronze. Then about 2 months ago I found an old book entitled "Blue Canyon Horse" written by Ann Nolan Clark, illustrated by Allan Houser. When I did a residency at the Museum of the American Indian in DC Houser's work was on exhibit. I visited it daily... usually more than once a day. The stone nations were so warm, alive and communicative.

BY-PRODUCTS OF POVERTY

Unemployment in MN is nearly at 10%. HD Thoreau wrote of poverty. "Some of you... are poor, find it hard to live, are sometimes, as it were, gasping for breath." He referred to it as an "ancient slough". JC said, "The poor are always with us." The by-products of poverty include shame, misery, degradation, poor health care, hopelessness. There is also hunger, desperation, crime and even domestic violence.

My grandmother made good meals from cans of horse meat. But one night my grandfather slammed his fist into the table and said, "I will not eat dog food again." He put on his jacket and left the house. My Gramma and I ate in silence. Just before bedtime he returned, embraced both of us and a ate a plate of meatloaf made from horse meat.

Poverty is a terrible burden for a family to bear. Poverty is often expressed in statistics that try to separate it from humanity.

I went to the Eye Q in GR and have heard that my left eye is somewhat improved but the right eye is worse. New glasses next week. I shall fling myself into reading!

A HOUSE ON THE SIDE OF A HILL

Gladys T, "For one Thoreau there is a mort of best-selling books, ephemeral as mayflies." Now for a word from our friend Henry. Sir, can you tell us about your abode? "My house was on the side of a hill, immediately on the edge of the larger wood, in the midst of a young forest of pitch pines and hickories, and half a dozen rods from the pond, to which a narrow foot path led down the hill." Oh, I can see it! I can feel the narrow path under my feet!

Pearl made cake and I took it door to door for her. Later I went to the Redd Shedd and had lunch with Wallis. She's going to CL for a few days.

To celebrate my 7th decade I have adopted a new motto. "Kiss me goodbye." Justice has held it to his heart. I'm so pleased to be taken seriously by a 17-yr-old grandson. Chey and Gene are leaving for Seattle tomorrow. What an adventure for them!

I'm listening to "The Love Songs of Italy" and I feel that I want to cry. Nevertheless, I'm going to add some of them to my i-tunes collection on the pc. Because, you see, "I know what it is to be young." Orson Welles.

Today I read "The Steadfast Tin Soldier" to Cedar and she asked who wrote it. HCA I told her. "He also wrote 'Thumbelina' and 'The Little Mermaid'." Then Cedar added, "And 'The Ugly Duckling' and 'The Little Match Girl'.' Isn't she a wonderful child! How fortunate for us that we can be together at this time. I at the end of my earth journey and she at the beginning.

CRADLE WILL ROCK

"Peace is too expensive!" from "Cradle will Rock". Yes, the script implies, the market rises on the wings of war and every wo/man has her/his price... of does s/he? I did know that Orson Welles is often portrayed as arrogant and verbally brutal. But I did not know he was a creative genius of great cerebral capacity and high courage. What an impact this movie makes.

Gladys T, "We like to eat down by the pond..." and so would I. Verlyn K urges us to be ready to part with the days that have passed and so I shall. "Going into winter takes confidence," he tells us.

I feel quite clever because I was able to post "Grandmother's Gift" to Amazon and it will be ready for Kindle in 24 hours. Also I joined the old VHS player and the tiny portable DVD player. Now I can view both on VHS. I am unable to get the DVD audio to VHS but it's fine for me and Cedar does not complain.

We returned from Grand Rapids under a bright rose-red sky with a full rainbow over us.

GHOST GEESE

Gladys T wrote, "Some of the days in November carry the whole memory of summer." Keats asks, "Where are the songs of spring?" Verlyn K had watched snow fall "out of a goose gray sky". He felt he'd fallen far behind the season. I feel that I've fallen behind, too. With no hope of catching up. But I opened a random book to a random page and read a few random words by Sue Monk Kidd. "I felt a lavish sweep of happiness..." What does that stir in me? What does that stir in you? On this first day of Nov 2010 I look back over a long collection of moments swept by happiness. Yes, it's all there. Surely the future holds more such moments.

When the bus stopped the door folded itself open, Cedar leaped out and flew to my embrace. We took her backpack and jacket to the flat and left for a tour of the neighborhood. We plucked four soft lamb's ears and caressed them with utmost tenderness. We discovered a fuzzy dandelion snuggled in the grass. "Go away!" it begged. "I am the last of my kind." But falling to one knee Cedar snatched it up and blew the seeds away. They danced lightly on a golden breeze and promised to return multiplied. Then I pointed out a tall grass seed head that looked like a tiny squirrel tail. Cedar was delighted! Then I showed her where the silver maple had dropped its chamois-sided leaves. I'd seen them on a moonlit night and thought a gaggle of ghost geese had left their pale tracks all about. I picked up two perfect goose steps and walked them up the sky. Cedar laughed and so did I. Farther along we came upon a few flaming Japanese maple leaves caught in the grass. Of course, we set them free.