Thursday, May 29, 2014

The week of wandering and hanging with Ianto

Muddy water headed straight for Delta, Utah.
On past us, in other words.

This is what I did this week. Hang out with the boy and screw around. Pretty much it. I'll be working on ironing out the new ideas for my Summer 1010 English class at Snow tomorrow, but it's nice to blow it all off for a few days. Really good.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Getting some things done and making sure others are left undone...

School's out for a week or so, and it couldn't have happened soon enough. It's been a long, long year of tumult and humiliation. That's how it goes for a part-time public school teacher, these days.
Been out on the mountain and had our good friend (and local man-about-town) come over with his skid steer discer to finish plowing the garden.
Best time of year, ever.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Heritage Highjinks

Yup. It's the Spring City visual artist's narcissism, self promo, and 'heritage' exploitation day. Invite the upper middle class over for photos and wallet splooging.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Elder Statespeople

The grandparents came by for a couple of days this weekend, and food was the centerpiece, as usual. Food and Ianto.

Staple of a life lived well

May's offering at The Granary.

Staple of a life lived well,
binding together both frontal an rear sheaths of skin
as they sense breezes, smell lilacs, or taste onions
and upon aging, glad of the constant pain in the hip
(it reminds one of life lived)
as long as the pain isn’t too sharp, like when spurred to a trot
or forced to feel the effects of a falling barometer.

Still, reclining on the grass in a park by the sea,
The wheels turn early
as the sun mounts his chariot
wind changing direction,
bells on the fishing boats returning to port
agitating the filaments of wakefulness
and bringing hunger for movement.

Like an unusual organ removed years ago while we slept
Every so often I reach back to wipe the sweat and feel the scar
yet tender-
and on occasion, I stretch to scratch and pull the hand back red with blood
so that while blood runs, seldom do I recall why or when or how that part was removed,
Or what it was, really;
perhaps it was worth it…

Many ghosts follow
like warm or unduly chill breezes on dark summer nights
or out of place, colorful insects at midwinter
calling my forgotten parts back from a place
far away and inaccessible.
How can the old and new join to marry my lost and disjointed members
as run the hues of an autumnal sunset
in January’s decline and lingering nights?

It is all paint laid on, layer after layer,
shade within color and hue-
I know by heart a few strained descriptions of the refuge that remains
and consistently avert the gazes of those and that which has passed.
We are all somehow programmed for stardom with a view of the sea-
and even at this point in the race, my view feels sometimes like a big-screen image on a twin sheet, suspended in the garden.

This life could be so much more-
and at the insistence of this description,
taking our landscape and peeling it back like a wrapper,
we each learn that we lean on this beautiful scaffold
for just long enough.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Snowbird Spring 2014

Another year completed in the annals of the Snowbird Troubled Youth Conference.
By far, this was the most snow base and snowfall that I've seen at the 'Bird this time of year for a long, long time. Well, not geological time-wise, but you get the point.
It snowed at least a couple of feet while I was there, and that made me want to ski.
I did not. I did attend lots of classes and enjoy a few walks around the place, though. Pretty solitary this time, for a few good reasons, as well.

Met an excellent new person named Nephi and his swell girlfriend at his greenhouse/fishery. Knowlegable help and beautiful fish for a very reasonable price.
I love his place. Very, very cool.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Brew Trip, May 2014

Had the opportunity to drive a student from Snow up to the airport yesterday and decided it would be a good time to brew a batch with Ryan.
I didn't buy enough fresh hops at the supply, and started late after I arrived quite late in the afternoon. That just ran the brew further into the evening than we usually do. Seemed like it took longer, though it didn't.
Good fun and a plate of fries afterward was the tradition continued, and on the way home, I was able to get some flowers and fruit on the way home.

The 'Big Boy' came though behind a diesel engine the next morning, so we ran across the freeway overpass to see the thing roll though. I only got one picture before it went by...