Posts Tagged ‘bad’

Saturday Blessings

26 March 2011



Dear J-

You may keep looking forward to Saturday but if you don’t remember why then you might as well not even start your weekend. Just as you decide what your attitude is going to be, how much patience you’re going to use, count the things that have gone right today instead of the ones you wanted and make your own day better. In other words count your blessngs. If you’re really good at laughing at yourself then by all means dwell on the things gone wrong but most of us aren’t that good.

So here’s this today: we kept getting up throughout the night for one kid or another — Calcifer is probably sick and not feeling all the time sleepy (or able to breathe; you should see how much snot comes out of that kid) and we deposit figgy on the toilet every few hours to keep it out of her bed. So we stagger through the day tired and you could either say that if only, if only we had a chance to get through the night, or you can tell me that hey, you got up at seven, not four, and that’s gotta be worth something, right? We may not go great guns all day but the longer you go without telling yourself that you’re worth a break now and again the less likely you’ll make it all the way through.

We have more down time at home despite having a complete portable baby mess kit. As Calcifer gets older and mealtimes more regular (the solid foods have helped here occasionally) we’ll get back to the all-day outings. Right now though we’re not rushing things; this time isn’t about getting back to normal as soon as we can. I push the big double stroller around the neighborhood, full of fifty pounds of offspring and there’s nothing but to go slow up the hills. We keep our own pace, we find our way in life in unremarkable ways but punctuated by periodic laughter. It’s enough.



Traditional Sailor

31 July 2008

Dear J-

Another retirement today; thus more opportunity to inflict spread my bad poetry (not quite Vogon-level, but I like to think I approach it asymptotically). As a preface, pressed for time I’ll fall back on the lessons of third grade: extemporaneous poetry is perhaps initially impressive, but draws less so upon further reflection.

may the stars guide you to safe harbor
may the wind lend you speedy passage

may the sun’s rays shine true
may the storms’ blow be brief

fare thee well on thy every voyage
fare thee well thru the corners of the globe

remember all the routes back home
and fare well ‘neath fair skies

I passed it off as a “traditional” sailor’s prayer. Part of what I like to think is creativity is undoubtedly unconscious accretion of smaller fragments of texts I’ve read somewhere, I’m sure.