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Washington protestor

This was right in front of the White House. It didn't seem to belong to anyone who was on the site, & no one but me paused to read it. The only other protest we saw had to do with fast food workers.
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Lincoln tower

A quick 2-day trip to D.C. to meet up with my sister. We packed in a lot, including Ford's Theater, a small & intensely interesting homage to Lincoln. I was particularly taken with this tower constructed entirely of books about Lincoln. Except not books: empty tin boxes wrapped with copies of the covers of these thousands of books. Even now, 150 years after his death, more books are written about Lincoln than just about anyone. As we go into the last week of this dismal election, I will think about those difficult & scary times.  Read More 
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Polar bear, Svalbard

I love the Arctic (not that I've been there) (yet) so this article & photo really break my heart. This poor guy. Is there any explanation other than global warming & loss of habitat?

It's easy to feel overwhelmed by all that's gone or is going wrong (less easy to feel jubilation at the beauty of the world). What to do, what to do?  Read More 
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The holidays are finally over

I think I can start acting like an American in the world again, after all those days whooping it up with the pagan rituals of Rosh HaShanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret & Simchat Torah, all crammed into 3 weeks.
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Sunday breakfast

Johnny gets it for us at B&H. Occasionally he sends me, but he doesn't mind going. He always gets an egg & cheese sandwich, I get either an omelette or challah French toast. I sometimes order blintzes or pierogis but I always switch back to French toast when Mike lifts an eyebrow.

Johnny was still asleep at noon today when I left. I got a ranchero burrito at the Mexicans.

I have a headache Read More 
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It's so satisfying to go to the 99¢ store, the one on Ludlow with the nice lady who lets me be short a little on change, & stock up:
= toilet paper (four 4-packs, Panda)
= kleenex (1 extra-large box)
= 1 light bulb (not as bright as I'd hoped)
= 5 notebooks, 3 purple, 2 blue, my new favorites: spiral bound, plastic covers, tabs
= shampoo
= dish soap
= poems (short, but for 99¢ each, a really good deal)  Read More 
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Greetings from Minsk

Greetings from Minsk!

You tell me you are going to Fez.
Now, if you say you are going to Fez,
This means you are not going.
But I happen to know you are going to Fez.
Why are you lying to me who are my friend?

—Moroccan proverb

I read this joke at a rest area in Ohio in 1976:
Two men are on a train platform. One says, Where are you headed. The other says, to Minsk. The first men says, You lie! You are going to Minsk.
My boyfriend at the time roared. No one else ever thought it was funny.  Read More 
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Memory is a strange quality. I remember having worked at UNC in the graduate economics department. I no longer remember what I did (let alone where I sat, who else worked there, where we had lunch, what time I got off, what year it was...). What could I possibly have done, given that I knew nothing about economics? There is nothing in this letter*—presumably unsent? definitely unsent, as it's not folded, & I was never in the habit of keeping copies of my sent correspondence, unless an occasional first draft to a special someone—that rings the faintest bell. I would not have thought I had written the folks at Enroute. It's like seeing yourself in a photo, sitting on Harry Truman's lap, & you are 7 years old, old enough to remember, but you don't, not even something important. Not that this job was memorable, but I wish I had a single bit of it left in my head.

*Dear Dear Enrouties --  Read More 
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Hoboken! Baseball!

How fun to do a reading at the Hoboken Historical Museum, organized by the Museum's poet-in-residence Danny Shot, with Quincy Troupe, Mikhail Horowitz, the official poet of the Mets Frank Messina, & local historian Nick Acocella, who sweetly called every Hoboken native ballplayer his favorite. (It would be nice to be able to live where you are from & also have New York City right there. I had to choose between South Dakota & the big city.) Also a short play by Ellen Margolis with a Little League/world peace theme. Ed Charles was on the DL unfortunately.

I took the ferry cross the Hudson. You catch it at 39th Street & 12th Avenue, & it takes about 10 minutes. $8.25 for seniors. So fast I got queasy & thought we were going to turn over. I couldn't think of the word "slip" ("which ... gate?" I asked) & as I so often do, wondered why it's so hard to remember I live in a seaport.  Read More 
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Grateful I am

And grateful for this loving being.
* For Tom & Bessie, & our laughing, friendly lunch at the terrific Moroccan restaurant Mogador. We are adults together, we who were teenagers in separation—even when we took the same classes. Possibly the case for most teens, not counting the one you tell everything to.
* For a sunny day. "And if the weather pleases me, I'm happy every day."
* That I have  Read More 
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One of those weeks where the hours & days pass with no notion of where they want. All my endless attempts to keep track only highlight how much I don't seem to be here. I suppose a day off, which Yom Kippur most emphatically was, throws one off for a bit.
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Where'd the week go?

And now it's almost Kol Nidre.

An easy fast & a meaningful Yom Kippur to anyone to whom this pertains.

Not that all of us can't use some ruthless self-examination, no?
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It's interesting how much buried trauma has boiled up in recent days.

It's hard to be passionate about tax codes and trade agreements, but everyone has a firm opinion about sexual assault & lockerroom talk.

Consciousness raising to the max!

(short on time, will amplify this when I get a moment. any thoughts?)
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Friends in Brooklyn

He's under that gray rock, in front of the sawhorse.
A wonderful afternoon of apple crisp, imaginative kids, a talky & thinky game called HuggerMugger, intense catching up with two of the people I love & admire most in this world, & a visit to the grave of Dante-Tito, my late & still beloved beyond breathing cat.
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Instead of taking a picture of both of them, I woke up Johnny to show him that Buster & he were sleeping exactly the same way—curled on their sides, with one hand (paw) over their faces. My two well-loved menfolk.
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Timely & topical

This is one of the many short essays I've been writing.

Southern Paradox

“You are kept apart that you may separately be fleeced of your earnings. You are made to hate each other because upon that hatred is rested the keystone of the arch of financial despotism. You are deceived and blinded that you may not see how this race antagonism perpetrates a monetary system that beggars both.” This was  Read More 
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Youthful me

My allergies are swarming & all I can see is the distant past.
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l'shana tova! happy 5777

Off to eat apples & honey, blow the shofar, & look deeply into the year I've just had & the year I would like to have. Peace to you in the coming year. See y'all on Wednesday.
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