Although I took the center of the day off yesterday to take lunch with The Lovely One (at Carolineʼs again, for you faithful readers, and it was delicious again for both of us), I still worked more than I had intended (in order to have hours saved for this Saturdayʼs payroll effort). The crew is really packing in the EQs. I spent the late afternoon working my way through a two-inch stack of completed questionnaires and making some phone calls. Although our ratio of vacants is definitely going to increase now that we have mostly completed the Leisure Lake region (a vacation community north of Maquoketa, for you non-Jackson County-ers), I still think the crew has been doing a wonderful job. Even my FOS thinks weʼre on the downhill grade for our project. So work goes well and is winding toward a close…
On Tuesday, I also produced fourteen containers of little quiches (plus one daily serving of four quiche-lets, which we consumed yesterday morning), which means I wonʼt have to cook more for 84 weekdays. The next time Iʼll undergo that quiche-preparation-and-cooking process will be after Labor Day (as I just calculated using the Google calendar on my home page), which is a kind of relief to me, making this end to the week much less stressful than the beginning.
On the other hand, it hardly seems possible that today is Thursday. The Andrew track team is out at state, with people actually running today. (Good luck, Hawk speedsters! I know you have worked hard.) I have worked this week (and the work has tried to take over these posts, too), but it doesnʼt seem likely in my mind that the week is nearly ended, culminating by the way with Janet and my wedding anniversary. Yep, weʼll be celebrating 28 years of marital bliss (no sarcasm or any other extra intonations involved here, either) on Saturday. Since we will be totally involved with celebrating our nearly three decades together, we shall have to see what this blog is like for the weekend.
For today, in honor of Thursday (which I still cannot believe it is), I have a poem from my rash youth about Thursday, although sadly not about Janet. It may well be the only bit of verse I ever wrote about doing theatre (and doing the thing I most identify with doing about theatre — lighting, the way I earned some money throughout college and at which I have labored regularly in just about every play in which I was involved until this past year of retirement). One would think that something I have done (not counting speech contest work) three to five times a year over four decades would have impinged on my writing more than this one little jotting. (On the other hand, I donʼt have that many poems about teaching, although there are some.)
So hereʼs a little kind-of love poem about preparing the lights for a play. Itʼs actually about discovering a muse to inspire a poem (like this one). This little piece of fantasia originated in reality, but barely.
• • •
I fell in love while hanging lights:
I looked down laughing, and the ladder
(ladders never fail me — I am a ladder master)
wobbled; the unplugged light in my right
hand twinged electricity up my arm;
the ladder teetered, unbalanced, and
I recognized the signs. The adolescent,
wicked-smiling there below me,
was a woman, though I had not noticed — now
I recognized the signs.
The ladder tottered, and I tumbled, and today
she ignored me blithely (they always do
once I fall), let me splash upon the floor,
and lovely, a lady, passed by.
13 May 1976
Itʼs nice to have a muse…
I like the sound and rhythms of this toy enough not to fiddle with some verbiage that might be less than perfect for public display. It creates in its words and patterns of accents just the right feeling/tone and ambiance (to me). The alliteration isnʼt intrusively obvious, I hope, but it works to connect grammatical elements (like some clauses) and to push the little storyline ahead. I also like how the rhythm moves (and changes) with the events/ideas/observations. (And the awful pun on falling in a sort-of love poem doesnʼt plop too flat. Does it?)
I should write something (perhaps a post) on hanging lights. There have been plenty of adventures for me in that trade, too many involving near-death experiences, including (unlike the incident recounted above) actually electrocuting myself on too many occasions (more than once while up a ladder). Recollecting now, and reconsidering, “twinged” may have been too weak a word choice above…
Happy Thursday, all. If I happened to win the PowerBall last night (too appropriate to help celebrate the anniversary), happier than we might imagine!
©2010 John Randolph Burrow, Magickal Monkey Enterprises, Ltd, S.A.