May 4, 2010


I was charmed by the colors in this image of G painting. Very Rembrandtish tones. 2010.

Himself: Swam, looked for jobs, painted the bathroom…three coats, dinner, playing games.

Herself: Coughed. Felt awful as the morning progressed. Added Tylenol and thought I was going to live. Very tired of complaining.

Blogs to delight: Oh, it was a toss up today, but I cannot pass up the chance of telling you about Tabor’s blog, One Day At A Time. I feel right at home here.

Reading: Still inching to the end of the Garrett.

Gratitude: That the doc is taking almost immediate proactive action on this bout of bronchitis.

I edit pallid poems while staying out of G’s way. Mid-morning, I call the doctor, as she requests, and leave a message to say I am still coughing. I do not say that I feel worse this day, just that I cough. The nurse says there’s a prescription waiting for me. Please call back in 48 hours. Is that two days, I ask myself in my fog.

I do not say either that I struggle with writing a poem about deaths. Do we know our death’s, I write? Ugliness. It may all be true, but I did not know such a reality lived in me and would come spewing out on my keyboard. It must be security issues bringing all this reality out.

G paints. He primes, he attaches the new light upside down as this is the only way it will fit, he puts on two coats of intensely happy orange paint interrupted half way through by another trip to the pharmacy for more of those drugs that will make me feel twenty that I am so afraid of. Dinner and the other coat….all this work keeps his mind of his worries.

He grows more silent as the day goes by.


  1. I hear the angst in your words. Sending good thoughts to both of you.

  2. Orange is happy and I hope it will make you smile.

    I am so sorry about the coughing. Take the meds, feel better!

    I have hope for G. To quote from my daughter - All Anyone Can Do Is Hope. See here -- -- and go to the Uncle entry.

    I call it, and say it for both of us. UNCLE!

  3. I delight in your choice of colors. Very cheerful, very daring (on a wall) and delightful.

    You do not sound well at all today. I hope the new meds do their work.

    I'm seeing some merit in your daughter's thinking about picking up germs from swimming. I know you smoked and your lungs are week but that could be the reason you pick up germs when swimming.

  4. I send you get-well wishes, and a speedy recovery...
    I tend to get bronchitis easily, I know how annoying the coughing can become.
    Orange would make a lot of Tennessee Volunteers happy :)

  5. Please send me the name of your orange paint color. I have painted a room orange, thinking it would look like sherbet, and it ended up looking like a band-aid, according to my "artsy" daughter-in-law.

    You sound overwhelmed. Relax. Close your eyes. Breathe in slowly. Take care of yourself.


What a delight to get a note from you. Thanks for leaving one.


Peter in front of a wall sculpture. We were invited up to Peter Knego’s home to see the latest installation.   Abstract flat ...