AD.

WALKING ON THIN ICE

Contois / Reynolds Stained Art Glass Studio

My Christmas gift to Lady (per her request) was a 2nd Contois / Reynolds Art Glass Studio window piece.

It hangs in our kitchen over the sink, so it dominates the room (in a good way). . . which is hard to do because it is Lady’s art kitchen.

Reynolds is my longest friend – we met in 1971 or 2 at Loyola College Baltimore.

Check out their excellent offerings at https://www.potteryplaceplus.com/contois-reynolds-art-glass-studio

a 2nd link with more stuff — https://www.stainedglassmagic.com/






*My* songs

>>>>>>”My” songs that used to be on my shuffle<<<<<<
My Baby – John Hiatt
My Baby Done Changed The Lock On The Door – Taj Mahal & Ry Cooder
My Baby Needs a Shepherd – Emmylou Harris
My Body The Car – Godley & Creme
My Brain – Mose Allison
My City Was Gone – The Pretenders
My Cosmos Is Mine – Depeche Mode
My Friend Fats – Primus
My Life’s A Stolen Picture – Jim White
My Oh My – Leoard Cohen
My Own Version of You – Bob Dylan
My Shit’s Fucked Up – Kinky Friedman
My Shit’s Fucked Up – Warren Zevon
>>>>>>”My” siongs still in the pool<<<<<<
My Baby Left Me – Elvis Presley
My Medicine (album version) – Snoop Dogg
My Starter Won’t Start This Morning – Lightnin’ Slim

The Marriage For Smith by Adam Brodsky

The Marriage
For Smith by Adam Brodsky

When you wring death from the newspaper on television
& use that black & white that’s red all over to go green from
& recycle the blues as water for the plant,
food for thought, time away from time:
mucketymuck in a plain brown wrapper…
the ceiling stared at from a hospital gown
glowers, grips, grups, glimmers, groans,
goons, grites, guiles, flaps, goo
picks up the foot & puts yours into it
over & over & over again
because strenuousness is next to godliness
& “cannibal” & “carnival” are synonyms in sour.

Solidarity.

So when the death wrought
in a ring of fire
reminds the world
that it’s still the world
& that world is a rainbow bridge
to light & life
waiting to blow,
it’s time to change the channel to
hoots & hollers
which love loves like like likes:
I do.
I sport.
I swoon.

To dig down…
to dig down deep,
you have to shovel with the hip bone
& spade with the femur
because what’s wrought
is a sprocket
& we are turning…
& turning over
which is grave,
the rock-riled whirl
of what’s under fingernails.

You plunge into the soil of the soul.
You slip under the radar of the rune.
If you want something done right,
do it yourself by yourself.

In this marriage of the self,
the ceiling is the first to go
& then the walls.
Only the wallpaper is left
to write our stories on.
The marriage of flesh & bone is boring.
We learn to bear it & be bared by it
with a grin,
but the silence between words—
like the breath between pains—
takes the oxygen out of the room
where we wait to wait & wait
& where we go, not to die, but to live
like there’s no tomorrow.

– Adam Brodsky

Clusterflux

Clusterflux

 

Not much humor here, but there is a life lesson: you can kill yourself with baking soda.

 

We volunteered to sell beer and wine at a folk festival. After our shift, we had fish and chips from a local vendor in the gymnasium. I ate both my pieces, and when Lady only ate one, I took a big  bite of her’s before tossing it. Four hours later I was sick. Violent cold shivers called rigors. Temperature. Sweats. Nausea. Diarrhea. Next morning I recovered, did stuff, ate a lot. That night it started again, and next morning I went into violent cold shakes for 40 minutes solid. Finally outlasted it and was fine again. Did stuff, ate more. Lady wanted me to go to the ER, but my symptoms were gone, plus I’m a manly man, and was raised poor which means it’s ingrained you don’t go to the doctor unless you have to be carried because it costs money. That evening I started the violent shakes again and knew I couldn’t make it through another night of it. Lady said my skin turned blue gray, I became incoherent, would get two words into a sentence and fade, and then I started making strange “noises”. She was terrified, sure I was dying, so she called 911 and two firemen carried me out, drove me to the ER, where they gave me a saline drip which brought me back to coherent reality and then sat me in the hallway in a wheelchair for 3-4 hours waiting for a bed to open up. I was freezing so went to a couple empty rooms and stole sheets and blankets and wrapped myself up and found 1 Tylenol in my pocket for the pain. Hour later Lady arrived and found I hadn’t been registered, so signed me in, then soothed my ragged beast as best she could. Long short of it after going down wrong rabbit holes due to too many symptoms including dehydration and anemia and sepsis, it was E. coli poisoning from the fish. I don’t know how it became septic, but I was already anemic because I’d been taking baking soda for decades to stop my stomach acid reflux – having taken chemistry three times (high school, the USNA Prep School, and the US Naval Academy, getting a lower grade each time), I knew baking soda was a base that would neutralize stomach acid – and it did, for decades. Told all my doctors and nurses over the years about my use, and researched it repeatedly on the net and found no problems. Finally the hospital nutritionist explained baking soda got rid of too much stomach acid so there wasn’t enough to process the vitamins and nutrients I needed from the healthy food I ate so I became anemic over the years, and the lack of iron made my swallowing muscles weak so I had trouble swallowing water, so I didn’t drink enough, so I was also dehydrated – plus poisoned by E. coli. Two days sick home, three days in ER and hospital. They poured antibiotics and iron drips and saline solutions and vitamin shots into me. Said much more delay in getting to ER would have been fatal. The B-12 shots and the iron drips perked up my body and my mind started zinging. Grateful for the fine medical help, and that I got sick on the fish we ate instead of Lady – she’s our breadwinner and a lot of web customers rely on her daily. Plus I know how to suffer, have experience at it, do it well, and so far survive.

 

Ever onward, until we don’t.

word harvest February 2023

word harvest February 2023
(low output due E. coli poisoning)

2023.2.3 – Just me
2023.2.21 – Yesterday’s dogwalk
2023.2.24 – Ahhhhh
2023.2.26 – There’s dog
2023.2.28 – The way we treat animals

~ ~ ~

Just me
here in the dark
with its thousand sounds of silence

going nowhere
moving fast

~ ~ ~

Yesterday’s dogwalk
four deer and a coyote
today one angry skunk

~ ~ ~

Ahhhhh
my second cup of coffee
after a long day of dying

~ ~ ~

There’s dog
there’s man
there’s God
& then of course there’s cat
who rules the three

~ ~ ~

The way we treat animals
the earth
and each other
if aliens come
and start farming us for food
I say we deserve it

~ ~ ~