ate

more pistachios. then caught Bess Flowers' quick bit in a '50s sci fi flick.

pistachio love

this afternoon I was thinking I shd write abt my joy at eating this nut. not only the taste but the process of cracking open the shell & swoping up the green treat.

then on the news just now I heard there is a pistachio recall.

if I don't post tomorrow you'll know I've been felld by salmonella.

counting strokes

I suspect if I knew anything abt golf I'd appreciate Steve Tills' new collection Rugh Stuff even more than I do. it's a book abt language & sex & play. golf is its apron. but the chef beneath is all balls out. a first reading is a romp. I bet the next will be complex.

"Balzac"

big lunch. little nap. woke with that name on my lips.

march madness

this is my apricot tree a bit ago. & we may get more snow during the day.

but this is nothing when I think of the calamity facing the residents of Fargo.

worn out

watchd "King Lear." can't remember when I've seen so much acting. at least I found a new actor to follow -- Philip Winchester.

today
the butterflies
migratd to forsythia

a neighbor visits

Jonathan uses the little bed I've made outside my diningroom door.

Caldo Verde Soup

          for Tom Beckett

the Italian owner of Stag Bar wd put his own spin on this Portuguese soup. Bert   my favorite waitress (we were allowd to use that term then) in all of Kent   wd serve it steaming. in memory it was probably chicken broth with potato   white cabbage   spinach   pepperoni.

for many years I lunchd several times a week at the Stag. usually alone. sometimes with Melville scholar Howard P. Vincent. other times with visiting poets & movie directors.

as far as I know the building still stands but it's been remodeld & I no longer know what it's calld. but the Stag Bar is indelible in my Kent memory bank. & I can still taste Eddie's soup.

observations

butterfly tasting apricot blossom

train refrain

neighbor pug with buddah face

celebrating spring

morning coffee in the little park across the arroyo. then to the grocery to purchase ruby trout which I'll broil for lunch.

more economic woes

looks like some poets & filmmakers -- among many other professors -- will be out of work in our town. College of Santa Fe will close in 2 months & it looks as if our legislature is unwilling to save it.

a major loss.

William Desmond Taylor

whisperd the name of his killer in my ear. the vowels were Spanish. he wants me to tell only Pedro Almodovar who will film the murder. I'll be listd in the credits as "technical consultant."

new broom

my dear old friend Roberta wrote from London abt my Spanish broom.

I've mentiond here that nature indeed is having the last word on the matter. several small volunteers are making progress. I just took this for Roberta. I hope you can see the wiry green stalks.



& there's a bit of my little daffodils which have lastd longer than usual this season.

l i t e

yard

work

for Jill Sobule

Delores Del Rio mural in Hollywood

today's plan

was to rest. but a simple house project escalatd. hours of organizing   cleaning   moving of heavy ojects   & I'm worn out again.

James Purdy (1923-2009)

hate to admit it

but this old guy is a little sore today.

digging a hole

neighbor Rita had a water leak on her outdoor drip system. so I just helpd her dig a 4 foot hole. now we await the plumber.

because

it's dark when I wake up now
I cd still enjoy the last of the full moon.

Busby's line

yesterday became today as I wrote abt the girls in the Berkeley production numbers.

last time

I saw Bill Rose was when he brought "The Loss of Nameless Things" to our 2004 film festival.
he just returnd with his newest doc "This Dust of Words."



as he wrote me this is "another story of thwarted promise." & it's another film to seek out. I have a feeling Elizabeth Wiltsee will haunt as much as Oakley Hall does.

I'm not a violent person but

I cd wring the neck of whoever inventd this time change crap.

Roger Shimomura at his opening at Eight Modern

winds

have been so bad that every time I leave the house I feel like Lillian Gish in that silent movie.

Batman lifts his teacup to Mark Young & sez

"holy lance of melancholy"

in a 10-minute period

this blog was visitd by people in Switzerland   Turkey   Spain.

sometimes
the productivity
of a minute
exceeds
that of
a whole day

in an afternoon

of tiredness I ate strawberries from Mexico. they had no taste. then I plantd seeds from pods I collectd from my parents' front yard in Ohio. I returnd to the kitchen to eat half a pink grapefruit from Texas. it was so tasty my face broke into a smile for the 1st time today.

spring cleaning

been working all weekend. mostly organizing closets. but in the process ridding myself of junque & making it easier to get at things.