Today's poetry prompt is to write a poem starting "Never....". Much easier than a sestina. I don't know if my version is more prayer or promise.

Never Stop

listening, learning, looking,
growing, receiving, giving,
forgiving, dancing, hoping,
remembering, dreaming,
writing, working, playing,
changing, creating, building,
healing, loving, living,
As long as I breathe,
may I never stop.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks, April 29, 2009

OK, this is a big deal, the poetry prompt today. It was to write a form poem, a COMPLICATED for poem called a sestina. Anybody who wants to look up the pattern, here's a link.http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/Sestina6x6339+Thats+Math.aspx That's not why it's a big deal. This is the one prompt in the poetry challenge I gave up on last year. It frustrated me and made me cry and I just quit. I got very close to that point this year, but here it is, my sestina, followed by the poem about my freedom to write or not write sestinas or anything else I please. The sestina also mentions many of the birds Bob and I saw Sunday at the Port Aransas birding center.

Birding

Pink cloud, Roseate spoonbills lift
over marsh. Miracle moment, quick loss.
Sora strides out of reeds, out of dream,
I raise binoculars, resolute, quick with hope.
Mystery quicker than mind, rail hides in mist.
Birds rise, leave me on boardwalk alone.

Wind kisses, slaps, purifies as I stand alone.
White shape encourages, eye follows, hope lifts ,
but it is just a trash bag, no bird, flapping in mist.
hope, loss hope loss hope loss hope loss hope loss
hope, loss, hope, loss, hope, loss hope, loss, hope.
I raise binoculars again, between reality and dream.

Roseate spoonbills circle, drop pink feather, dreamer
I stand on boardwalk holding feather, thankful, alone
Splash in the water, way out, fish jumps, heron hopes
for catch. Ordered line of heavy brown pelicans lifts
ponderous, graceful, one bird's catch, another's loss.
Ten foot alligator still as log in green water under mist.

Magic brilliance of indigo bunting storm breaks mist
Color too bright for reality, must come from dream,
vanishes when grackle squawks, loss, hope, loss.
Coot cries. Giant red eared turtle dives. Again,alone.
Each time beauty disappears, I choose whether to lift
binoculars , whether to accept loss, hope, loss, hope.

Translucent neck of tricolored heron sparkles, feeds hope
color and absence alternate, through morning mist.
Rain falls, mist lifts, mist descends, loss falls, hope lifts
Roseate spoonbill cloud. pink as any sweet dream
evaporates as fast, alone, alone, alone, alone, alone.
Put binoculars in case, sick of loss hope loss hope loss.

Alligator under boardwalks snaps jaws, mallard's life lost
Meadowlark rises cry too beautiful for orchestra, like hope
Foolish illusion, so much life death in marsh, no way alone
Colors flash pink, indigo, translucent, yellow through mist
Beauty, life, death, hope loss is real in the marsh, no dream.
I unlatch case and reluctant, catch rosy cloud as binoculars lift.

On boardwalk, in marsh, I lift binoculars, risk loss
of flash of dream, surrender again to persistent hope
Keep peering through the mist for connection, never alone.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks, April 28, 2009


Resisting Patterns

Freedom, the wise woman taught,
is neither rebellion or compliance.
I don't have to follow difficult forms.
I don't have to refuse. I choose.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks, April 28, 2009

GOOD NEWS SO FAR - The baby niece of my husband's teacher friend survived her surgery and is breathing OK now, in pain and they don't know if the tumor removed is cancer or what - but so far so good.

Today's prompt was longing - which gets real primal for me.

Hold Me

Hold me. Enfold me.
Never let me fall.
Keep me safe.
Keep me close.
Don't get sick.
Don't get hurt.
Don't die. Don't die.
Hold me. Enfold me.

Victoria Hendricks, April 27, 2009

I'm happily back from Corpus, though with long layover. was great in a way I got paper letters and cards written, which I've been putting off - but I'll need to punctuate tomorrow with a nap or two and get to bed now.

Prompts keep hitting home. Today's was miscommunication. I think I spend way too much energy trying to be clear, to fine tune, to get communication just right. I try too hard and get tangled up and in the end what I really want is just the same thing a child wants, love, connection, acceptance, being heard.


Child's Plea

It's really quite simple.
Please love me.

I pick you a flower.
Please love me.

I cry when you leave.
Please love me.

I paint you a picture.
Please love me.

I dance on the table.
Please love me.

I get sick and whimper.
Please love me.

I get straight A's.
Please love me.

I do all my chores.
Please love me.

I sulk in the corner.
Please love me.

I fight with my brother.
Please love me.

I eat my green peas.
Please love me.

Why don't you hear me?
It's really quite simple.

Victoria Hendricks, April 26,2009

Today was good. Bob 's tutoring went well though with smaller turnout than he hoped for. Cleaning the apartment was pleasant and successful and I introduced Bob to online scrabble (Lexolous on Facebook) to which I am joyfully addicted. Our beach birding was pleasant - odd conditions at beach, very flat gray day, dry dunes from drought, clammy breeze. We didn't get into the water but had fun. Oddest bird sight was a cattle egret standing in a flock of laughing gulls and Caspian terns, whittish and awkward but wearing a gorgeous cap of rusty breeding feathers.

We continue to process and pray about the news about Heidi's renewed cancer growth. Our lunch with Bob's teacher friend was canceled because her one year old niece was in emergency surgery, suddenly unable to breathe because of a large growth constricting her internal organs, and her parents had been told babies don't always wake up after surgery. I was horrified for this family, but visualizing Liam or Andrea so ill really shook me. Also, much less serious. but frustrating and painful, we learned that Chris had a soft tissue injury to his leg during a TAKS pep rally yesterday (over zealous wrestling coach carried away with throwing Chris choreography. So he's hurting and on crutches and that's unfortunate, especially right before TAKS.

Chris' accident and the poetry prompt to write about an event emboldened me to write about a recent near miss of my own - about two weeks ago - that I hesitated to write about here, probably more out of embarrassment than anything else. My right knee still aches some and there are sensitive spots on foot and shin still, but I'm mostly back to normal.

Fall

Ordinary morning, clock scolds,
time to get moving, clients
expect me. Author reading is
scheduled for tonight. Favorite
soft black skirt, apricot top,
amber necklace, comfortable shoes
all await on rocking chair and desk,
ready to go. Not I. Stayed up too late,
groggy but responsible, I roll left like
every morning. expect to land standing
beside tall bed with feet on cool floor,
but I roll wrong, too much momentum,
smash against bedside table, spill
slat night's soda, overturn bowl of
change, kick power cords, unplug clock,
upend lamp, all free fall, then splat.
I sit up fast in a pile of pennies,
dripping Diet Dr.Pepper, lamp in my lap.
I sit still, stunned, hurting, feel right
knee start to swell, finger knots on shin
and under right eye. Even if I get ice on
it fast, I'm going to have my first shiner.
But I can think, stand, walk, call a cab,
listen, offer counsel, read with feeling,
sign books, receive hugs, get home, even
remember dietary restrictions for Passover.
I am still myself. Life goes on one more
day. I did not crack skull, snap neck,
break foot, wreck knee, die. Live, I think
I'd better, between falls, each ordinary day.

Victoria Hendricks, April 25, 2009

It's odd how the prompt on the poetry challenges keep fitting my experiences and mood. Today the prompt was to write a travel poem - and today I rode the Greyhound bus down to Corpus to visit Bob. Writing this travel poem was fun.

Secret Time Machine

Greyhound bus sailed across
across green Texas green flats,
where cattle took shade, munched
bluebonnets under knots of live oak,
through tiny towns with giant
courthouses, tempting bakery
signs, main street banners
proclaiming rodeo, water melon
thump, football championship.
Homecoming..Secret time machine.

Greyhound bus let me out
today in beach city where
husband's welcoming arms
pulled me in.. He couldn't see
I'd detoured back forty six years
to my first bus trip alone, finally
old enough at twelve, sucking
Crystomint, playing solitaire, past
grazing cattle, under bright banners.
Homecoming. Secret time machine.

Victoria Hendricks, April 25, 2009


I'm glad to be here with Bob as he nervously prepares to tutor kids in math tomorrow morning - nervous because this group is just beginning to get important concepts, and very close to the dreaded TAKS. While he tutors, I'll clean. Then we'll join a teacher friend and her husband for lunch and hope for dusk on the beach. It is good to be here. And I was glad we were together when we learned that Heidi's tumor markers were increasingly abnormal this month. I haven't absorbed that news entirely yet, just sitting up feeling love and support for them while Bob sleeps to get ready for the tutoring.

I'm tired tonight, talked out, too warm in my house and too stubborn to turn on the AC, need to pack a few things to take to Corpus to see Bob after work tomorrow. Need to get more sleep than I got last night. I haven't seen any of the kids except K.K. for two whole weeks and here I am going away for the weekend. Next weekend I'll have to get a baby and boy fix big time.
I am looking forward to migration birding with Bob though, just being with him. And I smile imagining us on the beach at dusk.

Today's poem prompt is to write a poem of regret and I'm keeping mine simple.

I Regret

harm done
good left undone
cards unsent
letters unanswered
compliments unspoken
gossip exchanged
resentment harbored
forgiveness withheld
love unshared
good left undone
harm done.

Victoria Hendricks, April 23, 2009

A friend shared this prayer in honor of Earth Day.

The Land's Prayer

Our Father, Our Mother,
We are on Heaven;
Hallowed be this ground.
Your Kingdom will come
If our will is one
on Earth,
As it is our Heaven.
Give all this day their daily bread,
And forgive us our excesses,
As we forgive those whose excess exceeds ours.
And lead us not into consumption
But deliver us from avarice,
For ours is the power
To preserve Your Kingdom
In all its glory,
Forever and ever.
Amen.


Layne Longfellow

Prompt today is to write a work related poem.

They'll Pay You


Mama said Education is
the road to success. Get
a degree. Get three.
Don't depend on a man to
support you. Men leave.
Men die. You have to be
able to take care of yourslf.
Education is the key.

Daddy said Don't let
anyone turn you into a
bean counter. Find work
you love. Work like hell
to get damn good at it.
Work from your heart,
passion shows. There's
always money at the top.

I listened well to both,
got degrees, found work
I love, made it my own,
work from my heart,
come home satisfied,
most days, good tired.
Still I needed smarts,
and luck. Very thankful.

Victoria Hendricks, April 22, 2009

Prompt today was to write a hiaku and/or a poem about hiaku (against the form or in praise of it). I wrote my hiaku about the view out my office window and my second poem about the family dramas people have brought into my office over the years.

Late Spring Afternoon

Green blows across blue.
Warm light, Chill breeze, short shadows.
Late sunset tonight.


In Need of Hiaku

Family drama swirls messy,
florid, torrid, hot with similie
and metaphor, reference
to past and future, blame,
resentment, recrimination.
Needs the cool quick focus
of hiaku, clean in the moment.

Victoria Hendricks - April 21, 2009

Saturday night Bob and I had one of those experiences of art that it would be wrong not to note in a post - one of those highs where art illuminates human experience and suffering - just pours through like white light and purifies, and also keeps one thinking for days. We saw Austin Lyric Opera's production of Dialogues of the Carmelites - , a 1953 opera in three acts by Francis Poulenc. Set during Reign of Terror France, this opera explores courage, fear, sensitivity, faith, doubt, suffering, martyrdom, loyalty, freedom - so many of the big themes. Blanche, the main character is a highly sensitive young woman of noble birth who takes refuge during frightening times by joining the Carmellite Order of nuns - only to find it is not a refuge at all but a sisterhood which tests her to the point of martyrdom. I loved the complexity of the characters, and the music just sang through me, down to my very bones.

There is a crack in everything - that's how the light gets in.
Leonard Cohen

Prompt today is to write a rebirth poem and again it is a perfect fit for me, thinnking so much as I am lately about the experience of living the life I have now in the marriage I cherish now after grieving Kerry. That marriage, that life, seems like ancient history now, and I never thought that would feel true. It is sweet history, but history. Life as I know it is life with Bob. I wish I had gotten to this place sooner - not quite sure when I got here, but here I am.

Never The Same

Friends who loved us as a couple,
friends who mourned his death,
gasped when I announced
plans to marry, to marry you.
It will never be the same
each warned, different styles
same message. Lonely, hopeful
ewly in love, I didn't listen.

It was not the same. You were
not his shadow, You liked
more hot sauce, detested scent
of jasmine, arrived on the dot,
hated my habit of rearranging stacks.
I fought your uniqueness, molded
you hard into his image. You resisted.
I panicked. It was not the same.

Daughters grew up. Grandchildren
came. Yours. Ours. You took
us all to the zoo, the beach, the
wilderness, put up the tent, brought
new stories, new songs, held me nights,
worked beside me days. Love has your
name now. He is sweet memory.
Doesn't need to be the same.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks - April 20, 2009

Prompt today was to write an angry poem and the timing was perfect because I hit a mood about the time Bob needed to leave that was full of that deep frantic tantrum anger - the if you let go of me I'll die but if you come too close I'll yell at youkind of anger I don't feel too often these days. I think it got triggered at the baseball game by the consistently rude behavior of the man behind us. He yells at players and uses crude language in a loud voice and bad grammar and profanity and just has an edgy, ugly attitude that brings out the worst in me. I want to turn around and tell him to shut up - or say something profound that will make him want to change his ways - or just punch him. So it is easy to get into angry tonight.

Tantrum

Can't find words,
targets, reasons,
need to smash,
break, break out.
I need you to
hold me tight.
Let me go.
never let go
all at the same
time and you
have to go it right
or we will both
disappear and
the world will end.

Great Saturday - so busy - short now because Bob is here and falling asleep. Just goiong to post poem. Promt was "an interaction" and I grabbed mind out of this weekend, taking K.K> to watch Ian dance.

Let Go Of Her?

You are going to have to let go
of her, I said. The cab won't wait.
He held on just a second more, still
in stage makeup and Oberon tights,
she in her best dress with turquoise
jewelry I made for her, and her mother's
kitten heels, hair brushed down her back.
So young, just friends, they say, taken
ballet together since he was eight and
she was five, eight years growing up
watching, listening, helping, supporting.
She surprised him after the show, his
first real lead, top billing. He didn't know
she'd come and of course she spent all
week planning outfit and transportation.
He grabbed her hard, grinned, even asked
his mom to snap a picture. He hates
being photographed. She leaned in close,
beamed, glowed. You are going to have
to let go of her, I said. Maybe not.

Satisfied tonight after a long work day and work week. It even rained plenty today so the garden and trees should be happy. the babies' new apple trees are really leafing up. I have K.K. asleep in the back room. She and I went to see her friend Ian dance in Mid Summer Night's Dream with a youth company. He had his first lead - Oberon, and he danced it well, and was delightedly surprised to find K.K. waiting for him in the wings after the performance. The kids also danced a moving modern piece in tribute to the brother of the director, a south central L.A. school teacher who died of AIDS. Interesting commentary on medical care is that K.K. was surprised an American had died of AIDS - she sees it as an African problem.

So I'm satisfied tonight which makes the prompt easy. I'm supposed to write a poem starting with "All I want." So many places I could go from there, but none of them rings really true so I wrote it simple.

All I Have

All I want
is all I have.
All I have
is all I want.
This moment.
Child sleeping.
Cat rubbing.
Rain falling.
Heart beating.
All I have
is all I want.
All I want is
all I have.

Today's prompt is to write about a color.

Almost Silver

Almost silver
moonlight, starlight,
rush of rapids,
sea foam, snow glow
first last sun gleam,
beginning, ending,
yearning, memory,
transcendence, hope
Almost silver.

Today's prompt was to change the title of a known poem and then write a new poem with a new title. I chose Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" a poem I've both loved and struggled with for decades. I love the love and spirit in the poem, the fire, the fight. And yet I remember the sweet release, the tenderness of Kerry's dying - the tenderness of NOT fighting.

Let Me Go Gentle

Let me go gentle
into welcome night.
Noon is not eternal.
Eyes squint against light.
Long shadows fall tender.
Release is brave as fight.
Please bless surrender.
Let me go gentle
into welcome night.

Victoria Hendricks, April 15, 2009




**************

This morning's prompt was to write a love poem and an anti-love poem. Easy prompts the last couple of days.

Miss You Mornings

I miss you mornings
wake up alone in bed
imagine you teaching,
struggling to get kids
on track, wanting them
to care as much as you
do about what they learn.
I love how you struggle,
how much you care,
love that you choose
to teach school instead
or wake lazy in my bed.
I miss you mornings.



Hollywood Love

Hollywood love
is cut flowers.
Bright, fragrant
short lived
Me, I'd rather
plant a tree.

Today's prompt is to write about a hobby - an easy one for me.

Beads on a String

Color and light,
cool glass beads,
mixed in a bowl
to match my mood,
bring your smile,
chase shadow away.

Color and light
cool glass beads,
exuberant, serene,
fall into pattern,
shine in the sun
by my will alone.

Color and light
cool glass beads,
demand no answers,
suffer no pain,
need no comfort,
simply calm my mind

This evening I went with a friend to City Hall to act as moral support and courage while she waited for the ruling on a variance for an eight foot tall fence around her pool. She got the variance with no complication and was much relieved, AND I found the whole experience of listening to a board discuss and vote on requests for departures from building code totally fascinating.

The board dealt with small issues, like my friends fence, and in several cases with issues of minor improvements in poor neighborhoods of old houses where keeping modern space restrictions just didn't work. They also huge issues of development, pros and cons, for example whether a drive in bank could be built in a neighborhood trying to become more urban and pedestrian focused (the neighborhood between my office and my house). The bank company was granted the variance to build in a way that is more car focused, because the board ruled that this was practical and also because of safety concerns regarding robbery and employees walking from cars to work if the parking was not visible from a street. The vast majority of the people who came tonight were members of neighborhood associations against the development of a new rehab hospital in an area that is already overdeveloped and impinges on my local creek, Shoal Creek. The very assertive young woman behind this proposal was strongly instructed by the board to talk to the neighborhood associations for a month - and to LISTEN to them before coming back with a revised proposal. All in all I liked the way the board dealt with the range of issues before them and am glad of the unexpected way I spent my evening.

The poetry prompt today was to write a ooem entitled "And So We Decided". I wrote my poem late, after talking to Bob on the phone, after a tiring, rich, wonderful weekend of interfaith celebrations of renewal and hope, freedom and commitment. I get overwhelmed way too easily by trying to manage in the world, get supplies bought, meals on the table, keep the spirit right. On the one hand I struggle, am not a smooth proficient hostess who keeps it all together. On the other hand, it is so good to have a family of people I love and respect, who love and respect me, to have a home in which I can entertain, to have money for not just groceries, but holiday foods, to have paying work I even love, to have health. The poetry assignment and my mood really melded together. I need to remember when I start to get anxious that it is a decision, my decision, hundreds of time a day, that what I have and am really is sufficient, dayenu.

And So We Decided Dayenyu

Dayenu, enough, sufficient
Prayer at Passover instructs
me to remember how little I
need, how much more I have.
Last night, draped in purple
silk, sweet cherry wine in
heavy goblet, baby grandson
passed from lap to lap like
pitcher for ritual hand washing,
I looked from face to beloved face
and decided again, dayenu, whatever
I lack, whatever I fear, in this
moment, life, family, circle, dayenyu.

The poetry prompt today was to write about an object

Seder Plate

I did not grow up with
a seder plate, have
chosen and purchased
the artifacts of Judaism
one by one, holiday by
holiday. Tonight I smile
as I wash my seder plate,
creation of local potter,
deeply textured in spirals,
Hebrew lettered wheel of life,
rim like braided challa.
I smile, pleased with choices
that led to this April moment
in which I stand in my
kitchen at Passover and
wash my own seder plate.

Poetry prompt today was to write about Friday - and it is just what I need. This week has left me tired, more than usual, glad for a shift in energy. Time to restore.


Friday Evening Falls

Friday evening falls like gentle
rain, purifies weary mind.
Shabbat .enters home,
quiet, calm, reminds me
to rest, appreciate, be.


Victoria Hendricks

Poetry prompt was to write of an early memory. This is a favorite memory but one I haven't written about.

Lifted

Lifted out of motel bed - still
in pink flannel night gown,
Daddy wrapped me in blanket -
Quiet - whispered, he wanted
to show me a surprise. Nestled close,
excited, I didn't ask what. He strapped
me into seat of friend's convertable,
top down, cold mountain morning
and drove up snake of road into
clouds- pink, golden, violet, glimmering,
irridescent, inside a mountain sunrise.

Victoria Hendricks

Tonight was great, if exhausting. We had a reading for the grief book Stricken, to whioch I contributed an essay. This is the second time I've participated in a readiong and it was, again, a very pleasing experience. We had around forty people I think - they came and went a bigt, never forty at once. I enjoyed hearing some of hte pieces read which I did not get to hear at the first reading.

Bob is home for Easter weekend - a real treat.

I've been slow to write in tribute to Mort Satten who, with his wife Dorothy, was my teacher of psychodrama, and dear friend. I haven't seen him in a few years, since he became ill with a recurrence of cancer and retired. I'd stopped attending workshops regularly after completing my director's training, but Mort and Dorothy are among the major forces for good in my personal and professional lives. I first studied with them soon after Kerry's death, and they were among the first in my circle to meet and bless my marriage with Bob. It was Mort who grabbed me after I'd directed my first psychodrama and told me I was a natural at this work, Mort who was a strong force in shaping my personal and professional confidence.

Mort taught me so much, more even about life and keeping it real than about craft - though he taught me plenty about our craft. Mort is the source of one of my favorite mantras "Real is better than perfect." I think I was present the first time he said it, and I clearly remember his grin up in a theater in the mountains north of Taos when he said real had better be sufficient because real is what he could do. Me too Mort. And he did a great job of real, authentic, spontaneous, himself. I know he grew up tough and poor in New York City during the Depression, found his skill and power as a soldier in Europe during World War II, was deeply affected as a Jewish soldier present at the liberation of a concentration camp. He lived so much life, arms open to love and loss alike, changed careers, lived a great love, became patriarch to a blended family and to a community of healers. Mort lived big, lived love, shaped many, includiong me, for good and service. I miss him already and will always be thankful for his influence in my life.

Poetry prompt today was to write about a routine.


Bath Routine

I could call it ablutions
but that would be silly.
Every night I give myself
a bath, like Mama used to
when I was a little girl,
warm water in warm room
soft towel waits, scent of
chamomile, ginger, oiled
water softens skin, book
to read as long as I want,
time, my own, behind
closed door, cleansing quiet
between work and sleep.

Victoria Hendricks
April 8, 2009

Today is a big day Jewish wise. Passover begins tonight - and today is a rarely occuring (every 28 years) Jewish holiday commemorating the creation of the sun. This holiday has not been much celebrated. It last occured around the time of Ruth's birth. With the concern about global warming and the need to preserve our earth and utilize solar energy Jews around the world are placing more emphasis on this holiday this time around. Here is the basi information posted on my favorite Jewish ritual site, http://ritualwell.org/

Tradition holds that the sun was created at the spring equinox, the first hour of the night before the fourth day of Creation. Every 10,227 days – according to the Babylonian Talmud, tractate Berachot 59b – the sun returns to its position at Creation. As codified in the Shulchan Aruch and on the basis of intricate calculations reconciling the Jewish and Gregorian calendars, Birkat HaChammah, a prayer service marking this 28-year cycle, is conducted on a Wednesday in the month of Nissan, when the sun is about 90 degrees above the eastern horizon.

The year 5769 is such a year. The Blessing of the Sun takes place on April 8, 2009 (erev Pesach). It is interesting to note that the secular date was the same throughout the 20th century, and scholars have determined it will continue to be marked on this date throughout the current century.

In recognition of the stresses on the world's environment, many and varied Jewish organizations also are seeking to make this a singular occasion for raising our awareness and taking responsibility as caretakers of "the Earth and all that dwell therein."

Ruth found a powerful utube video with pictures of innovative uses of solar power around the world and a beautiful song.

Words and Music: Unknown
Performed by Rabbi Shawn Zevit of "Generations"

Powerful sun full of radiant light
Weave us the web that spins the night
Web of stars that holds the dark
Weave us the earth that feeds the spark

Strand by strand, hand over hand
Thread by thread, we weave the web

To hear the song and see how some are harnessing the energy of the sun, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=629JxUYTlFk.

Used by permission of artist

My very sleepy blessing is that each reader of this blog finds new energy from diverse sources and channels that energy to renew self, others, and earth.

It's been a comedy of errors getting my office put back together. When I arrived at work today, having been promised that the carpet guys would be down and the big furniture back in my office and books on shelves, the carpet was down but the furniture was still all out in the hall and the door wasn't even hung on it's hinges. I freaked for a minute - can't do counseling without a door! But my friend Bill hung the door quickly and we got chairs back in so I could see my first client. I had a break later and just hauled the big stuff back in myself - iompatient to wait, and it's mostly all togethr now. I'm glad I'm phyusically strong. My landlord apologized profusely and so did the owner of the carpet company - said the crew is usually very reliable and has never just walked off on a job like that. I have no idea what happened. Monitoring my own emotions, I realize I could have been much more upset about this whole leak/recarpeting/furniture out of place marathon. Maybe I am actually learning a little wisdom and perspective.

The prompt today was to write a clean poem and then a dirty poem (or to write one or the other) The prompt hit the spot for me because I've been thinking a lot about relationships and intimacy, what makes a relationship feel clean or dirt, comfortable or uncomfortable. I hate guessing or feeling like other people are guessing about me. I want to be able to talk about any conflicts or confusions that come up, and feel uncomfortable and anxious when others make assumptions that they don't make explicit. It's odd, because I think I'm pretty intuitive, but I don't want to base relationships on my intuition or anybody else's. I want it simple and overt - clear - clean. Hence the poems.

Clean

You ask until you understand
what I say and how I mean it,
clearly, every nuance, no doubt,
no guesses, no reading between
lines, no figuring me out, no secrets,
no lies, no unfinished business, no
resentment, no walking on egg shells,
no mystery, sufficient commitment
to make consistent effort, respect.
engagement, challenge, enduring love.

Dirty

You try to figure me out, but don't ask
what I mean, how I feel, what I need.
When I try to tell you, you read between
lines, make guesses, assume intentions,
harbor resentment, walk around secrets,
refuse to ask for what you want, hate me
when I won't guess, want me to get it right
without being told. There is no right enough.
No sufficient commitment, lack of respect,
Romantic tension disquised as enduring love.


Victoria Hendricks
April 6, 2009

Poetry prompt today was to write about something missing. Here's my effort.

Transmission Imperfect

Chinese gong from Grandmother's
red dining room hangs on teak stand
behind computer desk. Striker is missing.
Glass fronted book shelf from Grandfather's
office holds Golden Books grandchildren
rarely read. Knob of bottom drawer is missing.
Names of people in photographs, stories behind
expressions, nuances, explanations, destinations,
through generations, much is kept, much missing.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks
April 6, 2009

In my actual day, nothing was missing. I spent most of the day with Ruth and Liam
(so much bigger and more participatory in life than two weeks ago when I last spent Monday with them). His eyes follow activity all around him. He seems more and more in the world. Hard to believe two months ago he was still inside - a mystery. I'm glad I';m writing down snippets of these ordinary good days - snippets like Liam loving to look out the living room window, the sweet ringing of the wind chime Chris bought Ruth and hung where she can hear it, the way Ruth smiles when she plays with Liam ...."I'm gonna kiss your....(fill in the body part). These are the kinds of things that go missing over the years - maybe less so written down.

I had a lovely weekend with K.K., who spent both nights with me. We visited old haunts, including Katz' where she got a hug from the owner. I loved watching her in her jazz class, so confident and competent dancing to music from Chicago. I love hte age she is, sharing books and hobbies. We read Twilight to each other and made necklaces.

Prompt today was to write a poem about a landmark.

Tower

University of Texas Tower
pushes into changing sky
fossil laden, chiming song
backbone of family tradition.
Declares Ye shall know the truth
the truth shall make ye free.
Mama rode construction elevator
up it's bones, nineteen thirty
something, called it New Main
until she died in year two thousand.
I beamed pride when I used the key
to my carrel in its book-lined stacks,
like my Daddy, like my daughter.
Brilliant burnt orange for football victories,
Stained blood red when mad gunman
used it's height to facilitate slaughter.
Scene for study breaks, suicides, proposals,
Back drop for generations of graduations.
I look for it every time I walk up the hill
to the library, family landmark in space
time, memory, tradition, as long as I live..
University of Texas Tower.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks,
April 5, 2009

Snowy Owl

Shadow of death, silent as breath,
White on white, soul of night
New moon dreamer, star namer,
Omen caller, pattern closer,
Who hooter, I listen for my name.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks
April 4, 2009

Circles

The problem with hope is disappointment.
The problem with disappointment is hope.
The problem with love is keeping boundaries.
The problem with keeping boundaries is love.
The problem with life is the power of death.
The problem with death is the force of life.

Victoria Hendricks, April 3, 2009

I could be frustrated tonight but somehow I'm not. The carpet is being pulled up in my office tomorrow and I may not get replacement carpet until the middle of next week. It is going to be odd working around the mess - using partner's offices, maybe seeing some folks at home next week - but it just doesn't seem to bother me. And little things can bother me. Glad this one doesn't.

Bob's fourth graders successfully reenacted the seige of the Alamo for the PTA meeting tonight and got good attendance and good comments from teachers and parents. It was a challenge to keep the very exuberant and noisy kids on task and moderately civilized, but Bob managed it. I love the way he does his work.

The poetry prompt was to write about the experience of being an outsider and this is what I came up with. I know I'm on a soap box about isolation in public places, but it just really bothers me.

On the Bus

Ear buds, Ipods, cell phones,
portable barriers separate
passengers, each outside
all others' reach. Collars up,
heads down, eyes blank,
each outsider an I, no us.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks

Good day, happy at work even with the furniture out and about all over the place because of the flooding. Bluebonnets are popping up all over after last week's rain. The poetry prompt was to write an origin poem and I wrote about the origin of my marriage with Bob.

Unexpected Origin

First time we met, at a party neither
of us planned to attend, we talked
nonstop five hours about books, music,
family, hopes, fears, hopes, life, death.

First time we met I was happily married,
weeks away from my second pregnancy,
deep in motherhood, grad school. You lived
with your Golden Retriever, worked, hiked, read.

First time we met I confided in a mutual friend
you were someone I could have married.
The day of my husband's funeral, our friend
shocked herself, told me you were still single.

First time we met, I didn't believe in fate,
destiny, soul mates. Twenty eight years
later, I nuzzle your familiar neck, thankful
mystery unfolds independent of belief.

Victoria Sullivan Hendricks, April 1, 2009

It is an odd time - out of pattern. I have all the furniture moved away from a big wet spot in my carpet at work (to keep the wood from being damaged by the moisture) and will be getting new carpet Monday. Apparently the roofers made a mistake with the new roof, something about the gutters, and water seeped down inside the walls when it rained last week and made the floors wet. Bob is working hard on a script for an Alamo battle reenact ion for his kids to do at the PTA meeting Thursday night. I'm sitting up late waiting for him to send me a draft to edit and admire. K.K. and I are both looking forward to the weekend, when we will have some time alone together, visit Katz' (which never klozes) for the first time this year, go clothes shopping and book shopping, visit the farmers' market and go to an original ballet at her company's studio theatre. I have trash cans full of weeds lined up by the curb and plan to do a little more weeding in the morning before work. The garden, so far, grows and the babies' trees thrive. Tomorrow begins the April poem a day challenge on Poetic Asides, a writing blog I follow. I intend to write my poem a day to the prompt of the poet in charge of that blog, Robert Lee Brewer. I'll post my poems here - and have one from today for a head start.

In Justice

Justice is a valuable concept,
essential in human affairs,
crucial in creation and mediation
of games, rules, laws, structures.

Justice is a dangerous concept
when applied to cosmic questions
irrelevant to who starves, feasts,
suffers, dances, cries, lives, dies

Victoria Hendricks March 31, 2009

I also want to start posting quotes again and will today, with one new to me:

A hero is someone who understands the responsibility that comes with his freedom.
Bob Dylan

Amazing weekend. We planted the name trees for the new babies - apples - Israerli apples for Liam and Fugi apples for Andrea. It was wonderful having a hoie house and yard full of three generations of local family. We also got the garden laid - The kids are great help, especially Danny. I hope we have a more productive garden than last year. I need to keep at the watering after it gets hot.

Quiet tonight. I worked a long day - sad health news from both friends and family members. Beautiful weather though, clear blue after yesterday's storm and a morning and afternoon of hard rain. I'm beginning to see more kinds of wildflowers in more plces - still not nearly full spring. I hope for more bursts of color after all that rain. My brain is tired tonight.

I didn't get to finish preparing the garden today because it poured rain - but didn't hail like at the girls' houses. Joanna described piles of ping pong ball sized hail on the swing set and all over the yard - striking looking and a little alarming.I learned that both of the new babies had ingrown toe nails this week. Joanna fixed Andrea's and, at Ruth's request, also fixed Liam's. I don't remember ingrown toenails on babies.

Bob and I are planning a big road trip for July. I've pretty much decided to take the whole month off. We have reservations already at Yellowstone and he north rim of the Grand Canyon! . We will also go to Bryce Canyon, which I have not seen. I'm really excited. We will take the KDZ with us, Bob's choice for his sixtieth birthday summer,

Good work day and good evening - tired now but happily tired. I got most of the weeds out of the garden in preparation for planting this weekend. Drizzly rain made the soil easier to work - and I hope we are moving out of drought. I've mostly put away the beautiful clothes Ruth handed down to me and wore a yellow and peach outfit of hers/mine today that made me smile.

I had an interesting conversation today with a younger therapist friend who says that her teen age clients seem to have a whole different culture around electronic communication. Now I'm sitting here on my blog - obviously a lover of electronic communication - but some of what she said was odd to me - cell phones always on, including at the table at meals, constant IM's, a "rule" that if you don't respond to a text message in fifteen minutes you are ignoring the sender - not good manners. She says some young people communicate mostly by text, more than in real life.

I'm very much aware I have a twentieth century mind.

Back to work in the morning. I had a great time at Ruth and Chris and Liam's house last night and today. I was "hands" for Ruth while she nursed Liam - helped pull up bushes as I wote last night and then today did closet reorganization and garnered some gorgeous Ruth hand-me-downs. She has great taste. I also got to cuddle and play with sweet Liam - asleep and awake - to see the way Ruth reads his texture books with him, talks to him, adores him. We had a very happy day.

I'm writing tonight on Ruth's amazing fast computer. I came over after lunch(wonderful birthday lunch at Ruth's favorite Hula Hut) and helped her dig a bunch of dead buches out of the front flowerbed - hard to do with babe in arms. She needed extra hands. Chris was very busy pouring concrete to improve their front walk. We got all the sticks and roots out - Go us! Liam is more darling every time I see him - looking around at his world with increasing interest. Six weeks old - a real baby, not a neonate. I was in this hhouse as they set up to have a baby live here, item by item and now it's such a treat to see little Liam using the swing, the boppy pillow - all the things chosen for him with so much love.

It's Ruthie's birthday. She doesn't even think of herself as Ruthie anymore than I think of myself as Vicki. We've both outgrown our childhood names. She is two years younger than I was when she was born. SHE IS A MOM!!!!!! Last birthday with her and Chris was sad - honored but sad - just ten days after Mira died. Bob and I took them out to dinner. Tomorrow we will take them out to lunch and LIAM will be with us - live, sweet or grouchy, LIVE, present. I love you Ru-hoo. (You'll never outgrow that one) And I respect you immensely Ruth, wife of Chris, mother of Mira and Liam. You are a blessing every day.

Spring break is half over and I am chasing my tail (very happily though). I have so much to write and don't want to take the time to write it. I want to keep enjoying having Bob home, and I will, of course. I probably should have just canceled work this week, but I wanted to save my opportunities to be out of the office for summer. If I'm gone too much it's hard on my clients. Anyway, I'll hit a few highlights here - hope to fill in details later.

Saturday - Morning walk in the neighborhood with Bill Mary Lee and Lobo - great conversations, and Bill can still balance on curbs with ease and grace! Afternoon, Mary Lee and I observed half of K.K.'s jazz dance class from the glass cage above - lots of stretches and then some dancing. Mary Lee got to meet K.K.'s beloved teacher, Rocker, and to observe other beloved teacher Danny teaching a kid's tap class. While we were at ballet Austin, Bill visited with Ruth, Chris and Liam. Later in the afternoon Joanna, Tracy, the boys and Andrea Grace joined the party - much eating, talking, play, laughter, and passing around of babies. At one point I sat on the bench in the front yard with a baby in each arm and several cameras aimed at us - Fun. After the young families went home Bob, Bill, Mary lee and I had more good deep talk.

Sunday - Again Bill, Mary Lee and I started with a morning walk (Lobo too). This time some of the talk was about the shooting almost two years ago at Virginia Tech, and the responses to that horror. The young families joined us later in the day for food, talk and play.

Monday-Bob and I took Bill and Mary Lee to the airport early, then drove out to Round Rock to get the big grand kids and the van so we could have K.K.'s friend Ian join us for a hike. We went out to Pedernales Falls State park and hiked along the "green glass river." Spring is still elusive - just the barest promise of needles on a few of the bald cypresses and no wild flowers yet, even after several days of good rain. It was a joy hiking with the kids, all four. Ian fits well into our family group - likes doing what we do - and he and k.K. are sweet together.

Tuesday - WORK! WORK! WORK! I was dead tired by the end of the day and Bob took me out for Indian food - madras soup is my current favorite comfort food I think. Or maybe ginger snaps. At this moment I'm craving ginger snaps big time. After I revived a little Bob and I watched the movie Milk about the gay San Francisco supervisor who was killed in the seventies - strong film. Sac news was that Mort Satten, psychodramatist, friend, mentor - one of my personal heroes, died of his lung cancer after a long fight. Mort deserves his own blog entry and he'll get it, but tomorrow, not tonight.

Today, Wednesday - Really great day. I'm so glad I took it off. We slept late, had breakfast at home, went to my office to get jewelry together for the friend who is taking it to a motor cycle race in Del Rio to sell as much as she can. Joanna and Andrea met us at the office so Joanna could pick out some jewelry and we had lunch with them at Soup R Salad - such a treat to have that relaxed time with them. Later in the day Bob and I watched the movie Pearl Harbor, which moved us and solidified our knowledge of the events of that "day of infamy." Bob checked details on the Internet after the film and confirmed the correctness of the history. We had a simple supper, made a dent in our pile of laundry, and took an evening walk down at Town Lake - enjoyed reflections of city skyline in the water.

It is spring break! Bob is home and Bill and Mary Lee ( his brother and wife) are visiting from Virginia and we have already ad some deep talks - such good people to be related to Tomorrow they will meet the new babies - Hooray! THey smile so softly when they hear about those little ones. Even though it was cold and wet today, I saw more blue bonnets. I hope the rain really brings out the wild flowers.

I hear stories of peple's anxiety and suffering around economic issues every day at work. And yet I feel hopeful. I keep seeing this crisis as something to push off against, not something that will swallow us. The following story 9from the White House blog both highlights the problem and feels solution focused.

courtesy of the LA Times:

Chris Schultz breaks down as he worries that his younger brothers will become homeless because his family is four months behind in rent.

Evelyn Aguilar's home was foreclosed, so her family is among a dozen people sharing a one-bedroom apartment.

Victoria Gonzalez may delay college for a year to support her family.

These students, all 17, and 14 of their classmates tell their tales in "Is Anybody Listening?", a nine-minute video made by students at Village Academy High School in Pomona. The production quality is minimal; students speak directly to the camera in front of a blue background, laced with footage of foreclosed homes, abandoned storefronts and others advertising going-out-of-business sales.

But the tales of families dealing with the economic crisis are deeply personal.

This week, in his first major speech on education since taking office, President Obama described the video and spoke directly to the Pomona students.

"I am listening. We are listening. America is listening," the president said. "And we are not going to rest until your parents can keep their jobs, your families can keep their homes, and you can focus on what you should be focusing on: your own education."

Although the subject is dispiriting, the story of how the documentary came to be made at a low-income yet high-achieving public school -- and ended up in a speech by the president -- is extraordinary. Read the rest, or watch the video.

The moon is one day past full - was beautiful last night rising pink, then lemon yellow. Redbuds are just past peak - beginning to leaf out. I saw my first blue bonnets yesterday in a yard - not wild, watered. Today you'd think it was still February - forty three and raining. The next few days will be the same.

Mira died a year ago today. I keep reliving the days around her death - the sadness - especially the sadness and strength of Ruth and Chriss on Ruth's birthday and at Passover. Now those events are coming up again, and we will have Liam with us, warm, sweet, live (I trust). So much changes. This year particularly has brought so many changes. The first flock of grand children is really growing up and this second flock, I'm just getting to know (barely).

I'm changing my blogs at this time of changing seasons and changing family structure. I'm closing the "One Step Removed" blog which I started after Mira's death and starting a new blog Family Forward and Back for grandchildren stories, memories, recipes, old letters, I'm not sure quite what. This blog, AND NOW, I'll keep, and will keep it's content more general, philosophical, poetic, quote filled, literary (again, who knows exactly?) I'm in the mood for change.

It's a good disjointed evening here - time feels out of joint with time change - just finished writer's group. i'm making jewelry, catching up with emails - feel out of sync a little, but happy. It's also Purim , Jewish holiday of irony, not taking oneself too seriously while taking injustice in the world seriously. i wrote a Purim poem.

Purim

I didn't grow up in an Orthodox neighborhood
where at Purim every little girl dresses in purple
and parades as Queen Esther. I don't have
seven recipes for hamen tashen, or even one.
I don't tell jokes and don't get drunk and can't sing
well enough to parody bad singing in the Purim spiel,
but I know paradox, irony, mystery, humility,
don't take myself so seriously, know there is no
one right way and yet know that evil does exist
does threaten, and demands identification.
But when? How? Purim calls me to take
that question seriously. More irony. Purim.

This weekend was so busy I didn't sit to type and now I'm tired and full of memories and almost don't want to try to bother to capture them - but it feels wrong to let so sweet a time flow through my fingers and memory - so I'll hit the high spots. Ruth and Chris took Liam to synagogue on Friday night and the rabbi asked us to come forward and receive the beautiful certificate of naming he had made for our little guy - Liam Chaim - loved in his congregation Our community, like every other group, is feeling the anxiety of the economic downturn, talking of shortened hours, jobs lost or in danger, valuing every success and every relationship. I bond slowly with congregations, but I am feeling more bonded with this one than I have with any in a long time. Ruth and Chris are so easy with Liam, and he with them. Joanna's whole family just wraps little Andrea in love - Bob and I had time with both babies - time to appreciate them still so tiny new but growing ind more complete than even last weekend - so sweet. We also hiked with the bigger grand kids today, a pleasant, though warm, three miles at McKinney falls - a trail we usually don't choose and enjoyed. The lack of wild flowers is a little disturbing in that park given the warm temperatures - Bob thinks it has just been too dry. it's supposed to rain this week and I hope it does.

I saw blue eyed grass today and mealy sage - think I want to make a list of wildflowers I see this spring with the dates of first appearance. My work day was more challenging than usual - a need to reprogram our phone system was pressing, but was completed. Several friends are ill or facing difficult diagnosies, which has me in prayerful mode. I saw pictures from Liam's naming - WOW! Life is so rich and varied and I'm not in profound mode - just here.

The last several mornings I've awakened to Inca doves cooing in the yard for the first time this new season. Increasing numbers and shades of wild flowers dot my path as I walk - cut leaf daisy now, Mexican hat, beggars' tick, along with the prickly poppy. No bluebonnets yet, but soon. We've had beautiful pink sunsets the last four evenings and last night I got home from work in time to take a work in the neighborhood, Now I almost wish I hadn't because of a distressing sight in the neighborhood - a poster board taped to bumper of pick up truck on the street behind my house. It was handwritten with the horrible slogan "God damn Barack Obama - Socialist Pig destroying America. God bless true Americans," It was all decorated with American flags. The hate in it freaked me out. I don't like it that my back yard touches the back yard of someone with such a hateful attitude. It bothered me more than a commercial sticker would have, because of the degree of effort involved in creating it - though I guess a commercial sticker would imply that more people shared the sentiment. The pink sunset and Venus setting, half moon high touched me deeply - but so did the hate. Part of me wants to knock on the door - ask questions, but I won't. Odd that the doves live in my yard and in the yard of the person who wrote those hateful words - no fence or feeling confining them.

I really enjoyed today - domestic day - cleaning, cooking, a walk up the hill to the store (Cut leaf daisies are out - bright yellow - new addition to our early spring palate.) Tonight I fixed a simple supper for old friends Jean and Mark - chili, salad, strawberries, cornbreat, chocolate cake. Mark had been craving chili. I really enjoy cooking for friends and getting out the good china - want to do this more often for more people - just not huge roups at once. Tonight was sweet - nothing like forty year friendships!

What a weekend! Yesterday Joanna brought baby Andrea over while K.K. danced jazz, so now both newest grandchilden have been at our house. Andrea was an utter pink bundled joy of cuddly baby. Jo and I even took her - ll wrapped up in the cool afternoon - on a walk to and back from the elementary school her mommy used to attend. I like living in the same neighborhood across generations, having familiar landmarks. It was especially sweet that Bob came home while Andrea and Joanna were here and got to snuggle the former and talk movies with the latter.

Yesterday evening at the symphony with Lord and Lady Galway playing their golden flutes was just incandescent. I am astonsished when anyone does anything that well. And the additional joy of sharing the symphony experience with K.K. and her friend Ian put it pretty much over the top. We were anxious about being late, the evening was COLD and the walk long in our light coats and with K.K. in uncomfortable shoes which she eventually kicked off on the stairs, but in the end the performance and the experience of sharing it with the two young people was just great. I felt so tender toward K.K. when we brought her back to our house after taking Ian home and she changed out of her gorgeous black dress into pajama pants and an oversized jaguar T shirt to be more comfortable on the ride back to her house and bed. Bob put more Mozart flute music on in the car, and K.K. dozed and smiled, smiled and dozed - just a magical evening.

This morning Bob and I watched an excelllent performance of Chekov's "The Seagull" on video - such a sad play about people making poor choices out of ego. It startles me a little that when I first read the play as a young woman I didn't react as strongly as I do now against the choices, didn't see as clearly that they were choices.

This afternoon Bob and I watched the Texas Longhorns win a no hitter against Penn State - slways a kick to see excellence at that level. I laughed at myself because of the extent to which I subscribe to the superstition that talking about a no hitter jinxes the pitcher. The man behind me kept talking loudly about NOT talking about what was clearly (he he) happening and I had to resist strongly the urge to yell at him to SHUT UP!

What a morning - beautiful perfect very early spring morning. I look out my window and see the earliest green buds on Danny's tree. Strong breeze has everything in motion and the sky is that delicate breath of blue that comes only with chilly late winter early spring mornings - so pure and soft, striped with white clouds. The red bud across the street is in full beauty now - a cloud of pinky purple blossom. And last night the waxing crescent moon set like a boat in the west with Venus uncannily bright right at it's corner (side by side) according to Star Date. I don't think I've ever taken in this configuration of moon and planet in this way - so brillint and beautiful.

Yesterday was an exhausting work day - mostly because the building was being reroofed and I had to keep moving- with clients - to different office to avoid the worst of the noise. It all worked out fine - but was tiring in process. Work is so secure for me - my safest place where I feel most competent and most able to keep things functioning from day to day. Oddness at the office gets to me more than oddness elsewhere - which I guess I [pretty much expect.

Today is good - warm - will get wintry again tomorrow. Bob has to stay tomorrow morning in COrpus to coach a few kids on writing so I want to get groceries in right now and cook tomorrow morning - so food purchase and preparation won't mess up our weekend. Tomorrow night we take K.K. and Ian with us to the symphony to hear the Galways play flute with the orchestra. I think we're all excited.

All is well with babies. Little Liam to back - is surprising us by flipping, already, from front to back - not supposed to be able to do that for a couple of months. I need to get my hands on both sweet little ones - and my bigger grands too this weekend.

There is a new food option near my office - a trailer kitchen from which two young men sell fish tacos, breakfast tacos, and fish and chips. They use fresh ingredients and my breakfast taco was delicious and cost only $1.75. These guys both have a sweetness about them, an eagerness about their new business. Both have numerous facial piercings and tattoos - looks that would not appeal to me, but I like these guys and want them to succeed. One of their friends who lives in the neighborhood talked with me a bit. He says he is making his living helping people move out of the big houses they can't afford into smaller houses. Signs of economic distress are more visible here now - office space to rent, a few closed restaurants, but mostly people's stories about reduced wages and hours. I still feel hopeful in face of our President's recovery policies. And I found two optimism quotes I like on a friend's blog today.

Winston Churchill said, "The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."

Thomas Jefferson said, "I steer my bark with hope in the head, leaving fear astern. My hopes indeed sometimes fail, but not oftener than the forebodings of the gloomy."

I'm so glad I had the organizational ability to get myself home from work in time to plop down and watch President Obama's State of The Union Like speech to Congress all the way through. What a speech! There were (according to PBS) 52 interruptions for applause in 50 minutes, and much applause came from the Republican side of the aisle, which pleased me. I know I like this President, voted for him, want him to be the leader we need as a nation to climb out of the scary economic hole we are in - and to act with greater conscience for the common good. I was predisposed to like this speech, so I tried hard to listen with some balance. Still, I really liked this speech. I liked the seriousness, the degree of detail, the resolve, the hope, the avoidance of talking down to us, the personhood and role both evident in the man. I liked the level of detail he shared in talking about jobs saved, the commitment to transparency - who is working on what when and where and why. I felt led and like I'm willing to be led (which is a stretch for me since I'm never much good at following). I sat on my couch and cried and also felt truly thankful that we elected this man at this time. That says something about us as a people, not just about the man - something I need to believe about our willingness to make sacrifices, make changes, care about and for one another. I feel strongly patriotic tonight.

Here are exerpts from the speech:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


While our economy may be weakened and our confidence shaken; though we are living through difficult and uncertain times, tonight I want every American to know this: We will rebuild, we will recover, and the United States of America will emerge stronger than before.

"The weight of this crisis will not determine the destiny of this nation. The answers to our problems don’t lie beyond our reach. They exist in our laboratories and universities; in our fields and our factories; in the imaginations of our entrepreneurs and the pride of the hardest-working people on Earth. Those qualities that have made America the greatest force of progress and prosperity in human history we still possess in ample measure. What is required now is for this country to pull together, confront boldly the challenges we face, and take responsibility for our future once more.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


We have lived through an era where too often, short-term gains were prized over long-term prosperity; where we failed to look beyond the next payment, the next quarter, or the next election. A surplus became an excuse to transfer wealth to the wealthy instead of an opportunity to invest in our future. Regulations were gutted for the sake of a quick profit at the expense of a healthy market. People bought homes they knew they couldn’t afford from banks and lenders who pushed those bad loans anyway. And all the while, critical debates and difficult decisions were put off for some other time on some other day.

Well that day of reckoning has arrived, and the time to take charge of our future is here.

Barack Obama, February 24, 2009

Signs of spring are evident - hints appeared two weeks ago- a single white blossomed fruit tree, a chorus of birdsong as I trudged to the bus stop early, wrapped in my big coat. That evening I forgot my coat at the office for the first tie this season, just didn't need it walking home. last week spring began to sprinkle more signs, wisteria, mountain laurel, the first of the red buds, still barely visible, pinky purple against the sky if you look at the right angle. in a week they will take my breath, so bright, and in two weeks, green will be replacing the flowers. I also saw my first wildflower of the season this weekend, a Texas prickly poppy - big, white, delicate, overblown - Welcome back signs of spring.

This weekend has been overwhelmingly rich in love - so full of love. Ruth and Chris really centered us as a family/community with Liam's naming ceremony. Ruth has the text in her blog (Thank you Ru) http://sproutnhope.blogspot.com/.

I am delighted by our community - the way people come through for each other. Kneeling in front of Ruth and blessing Liam Chaim to sleep was precious for me - a moment I will always remember, as was the moment of wrapping Chris and Liam Chaim in Chris' prayer shawl. I think at this point I am out of words to try to wrap the emotion more strongly. I grew up without people I had genetic ties to, and without a strong faith tradition or community. I grew up with values and sense of family mission and purpose, but not with a group who could sit in a circle and pass a baby around for blessing. I am just so improessed that both of my daughters have found/created such groups for their children. AND BOTH OF MY DAUGHTERS HAVE CHILDREN!!!!!! Life is good. TOmorrow I might even write something political. Or something. We'll see.

OK, I said I was going to get less baby focused in this blog, and I will. But it's just too strange that the writing prompt on Poetic Asides this week was to write an ode - a poem of priase and celebration and -duh- do I have an obvious topic or what? Thank goodness there is a free form style of ode. I don't think I could manage iambic pentameter.

Ode To New Grand Babies


Oh new grand babies
I do love your tiny fingers and toes
unique precious noses, wide eyes,
smooth skin, warm necks, soft hair.

Oh new grandbabies, I do love
to see your parentts beam, snuggle
glow, feed, wrap, unwrap, carry,
rock, sing to nurtur, love you each.

Oh new grandbabies, I do love
to revel as I watch you each unfold,
unique, to plan outings, travel, play,
work, meals, together for years to come.

Oh new grand babies, I do love
your presence, unexpected, longed for
You will carry genes and values on to
future generations, hope beareres, blessings.


Victoria Hendricks,
February 19, 2009

Liam is a whole week old and Andrea a day old - and in a few more days this blog will no longer be obsessively about babies. I think I am going to start a separate blog or web site or something for my Grandma role and keep this one more general.

But today is all about babies (even though I am suffering Liam withdrawal.)

It was a very good day on the Andrea front. I met held cuddled kissed and was photographed with her. Her brothers, who fell asleep before they could get to hold her last night, held and loved on her today - adorably tender with her, as was K.K. (who did get to meet her last night.) I didn't realize she shared your daughter's birthday Sue. Good to know that. She is a sweetie - little crying, enormous round light brown eyes, a surprising amount of black soft hair, and a precious little rosebud of a mouth. Joanna is sore and tired, but doing well. They should go home tomorrow Ruth and Chris even got to visit today - not sure they would manage it with Liam so young, but they did.

The hospital here has reinstated an old tradition of providing a fancy meal for two (in Joanna's case vegetarian style) the evening following a birth. I remember reading about this in older books, but our hospitals weren't doing it when I had babies, or when Joanna had her older kids. Joanna and Tracy really enjoyed their meal tonight, including coconut cake. I had a treat of going to dinner at an ice house near both the hospital and my office with the older kids. We stuffed ourselves, even had cinnamon chocolate milkshakes (as Danny, K.K. Ruth, Chris and I did the evening Zachary was born six years ago). Tonight we had an especially good time because a local band provided live music - Irish fiddle music mostly, which the kids and I all really enjoy. It's the kind of place where informal dancing is find, and we all joined in - FUN! K.K. and I also free associated on words about babies and wrote fifty of them on a napkin. We could have gone on and on but Tracy came to bring me home and take the kids to their house. Good night here.

and all is well. I know she is six pounds thirteen ounces and SO BEAUTIFUL according to her proud Daddy. I could hear Joanna cooing in the background as she nursed her. Tracy complained (not seriously) that Joanna would not let go of her. The kids and I will go meet her in a little while after she has been cleaned up. Exciting night! I'll write more after I know more.

Peace,
Victoria

Not yet - No ANdrea. But soon I hope. All is proceding just fineas far as I know. OOne more therapy session and then home to the big kids.

I dropped in at the hospital almost two hours ago and Joanna was laboring - but not intensely - wished it was going faster - tired but fine. Tracy was providing good support. We await Andrea with love. I'm working - so don't have long.

Good day. I scrubbed most of the surfaces in my house, removed piles from desk - organized, like the way it feels. I know I'm not pregnant, but I still can feel the urge to clean, arrange, prepare, with babies arriving. Tomorrow this time I probably will have kissed, touched, held Andrea. Such a treat in store. Didn't see Liam today, just pictures - precious pictures. I'm obsessed with these babies.

It will make a good story that Joanna and Jeanie and I went to the Women's Baseball Dinner at UT the night before Andrea's birth - and Joanna sat next to a very pleasant woman named, of all things ANDREA.

Liam is in his fifth day of life! Amazing. He was a mystery a week ago, and now he is still much of mystery, so much still to unfold - but I've held his hands and kissed his hair, nuzzled into the hollow of his neck. He went through a whole sleep wake cycle yesterday in Bob's arms and another in K.K.'s. I held his hands and cooed at him while he cried through a diaper change. I put one sleeper in the dirty clothes hamper and brought another sleeper downstairs. In short, he's home, healthy, here and I got to help take care of him and it doesn't get much better than that.

Joanna looks good - though I know she's tired of being pregnant. Andrea will be induced Tuesday morning if she doesn't come before then. All was well at that house too when we took Valentines (mine handmade and Bob's balloon tradition which he started when the girls were little and which they and the KDZ adore).

Bob and I walked at McKinney Falls today - late winter - cool and still gray world, but with tiny green touches here and there, not spring yet, but the palest promise. I saw my first hints of red buds yesterday.

I'm still holding my breath a little until Andrea is safely among us - still tired and overjoyed and focusing on hope not worry.

Liam and his parents are safely home. No Andrea yet. I'm so happy - not profound. Still tired from the emotion of the week plus work - building up another burst of energy for another new life.

I just got back fro a long blissful hospital visit. I held Liam this time - sweet boy. He is perfect. Ruth and Chris are perfect. Old friendships and new friendships sustain me through joys and sorrows - no sorrows tonight - but I am a sleepyhead.

Bob is walking by the bay in Corpus, waning oon on the water - GORGEOUS - just noting that on the first night of Liam's life.

Just a quickie - Joanna's appointment was routine - all well. We celebrate Liam and await Andrea. I think I'm beginning to feel sleep deprived and had better finally listen to y body - but still keyed up too - SO HAPPY.

Liam is absolutely gorgeous - sweet. six pounds 3 ounces, I think. He has dark hair , a little more of it, and slightly deeper skin tone than Joanna's babies, All systems go Ruth and Chris both look great and the whole family is getting what looks like super care at the birthing hospital they chose. Joanna (newly and delightedly Auntie Jo Jo) and Bill Woodburn and Ruth's good friends Brynn and Todd visited shortly after Liam was born - stayed a bit - then let them all rest. I am overwhelmed with feeling now - joy delight relief. What a beautiful ittle family they make. Joanna and I had lunch at Super Salad and then she brought me to lunch, where I hope I will function adequately and not get up and dance in the middle of somebocy's serious session. Jo has an obstetrician's appointment right now, but expects it to be routine. We figure Andrea will come when she comes.
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LIAM IS HERE!!!!!!! Chris called me about ten minutes ago. Ruth is fine. Liam is fine - THey were still weighing and measuring when Chris called. He has light brown hair and I heard his sounds. He was holding Chris' finger - as the daddy proudly and so sweetly reported. HOORAY!!!!!!! Joanna called me at the time of the csection and we talked on the phone all through it - felt good to hold metaphorically onto her. HAppy birthday LIAM!!!!! I am over the moon ant the moment. Need to finish dressing to go meet my grandson.

Storm blew through hard and loud - but fast. Should be a beautiful brisk oring to greet Liam - now if we can just do some sleeping here (Who me - excited? No way.) Thanks Mary and Judy, and everybody else keeping baby watch with me.

It is literally the calm before here - big storm expected during the night and baby Liam in the morning. I feel calm - which is probably all a defense mechanism, but I'll take it. I plan to get off the computer earlier than usual, watch some taped news shows on TV (Bill Moyers' Journal, NOW) and do some crafting - then go to bed early. Last night I felt calm, but just kept putting off going to bed - which was dumb. More self discipline in order tonight. Tomorrow night I'll share my first encounter with sweet Liam.

I had a great day cleaning with Joanna, Tracy and the kids. They - with a little help from me - are really deep cleaning the house. It is just sparkling in preparation for Andrea. Everything shines and smells so good. It really is a a time of new beginning for the whole family. I read in Ruth's blog that she is feeling fully emotionally excited about and present for Liam's birth Wednesday morning.

Quick happy post. I'm hurrying to get ready to go over to Joanna's and help her clean house. It will be fun. She feel good - contractions finally stopped altogether and she got a good night's sleep. I'm looking forward to a bus happy day with her. And to meeting Liam Wednesday around noon. Exciting.

I just talked to Ruth and they had the sonogram and Liam is still definitely transverse and not about to turn - all healthy but can't be born naturally in that position. So they are having a c section at 7:30 Wednesday morning. They sound calm and ready and I feel the same. I will ride out tho the hospital with Ruth's friend Brynn as soon as they call me - canceling Wednesday morning at work but not Wednesday afternoon. I'm excited to meet our boy. It's not as clear when Andrea will come. Joanna was feeling much better last night when Ruth and Chris took them enchiladas. I think she and I will spend some time together today and I'll help her a little with house work. So it's happening - but not right now as far as I know. THe babies are coming. So much mystery in birth.

Joanna visited Seton Hospital one more time today because she was concerned that Andrea wasn't moving much - but Andrea of course started moving and kicking as soon as Jo got to the hospital - and heart beat and all such were fine. Bob and I took the kids and some comfort food out to Round Rock and saw her right after her hospital trip and she seemed good - strong - was going to eat and then go back to work for a little while. Tracy was working on laundry and moving some furniture they don't use now out into the garage. KK had homework and the boys headed out back to shoot baskets - seemed very normal, which I found comforting. I will probably spend part of my day off out there tomorrow to help with nesting activities.And Ruth has her ultrasound tomorrow which will result in a decision as I understand it, about whether to plan for induction or C section. Bob just headed back to Corpus, after taking me out for Indian dinner - yum!. I'm calm at this point really loved having him for an extra day enjoyed the kids, especially making valentines with them.

My elder daughter is back at work! EEK! I know it's good for her to have more maternity leave after Andrea comes. I just hope and trust all will be well. The boys have made their valentines and are at library story time with Bob. KK is making a few valentines while I type and cook a little. We'll take the kids back home in an hour or so - and then who knows what will happen net regarding labors. I do think Joanna slept some.

No news on the baby front. I am not expecting Ruth news today and AM epecting Joanna news of some sort - but am letting her be (hopefully sleep) for now. I figure either labor will rally start up or really back off and she will either have her baby in her arms or be more comfortable. Bob and I are hoping today will be Andrea's birthday so he can meet her before going back to teach tomorrow. I'm relieved I have tomorrow off to be helpful. Right now, I want to get back to making Valentines with the boys, a beloved family tradition. It's kind of sad that K.K. is too old for the first year for class valentines. She still makes some special ones for special friends. And it's fun to think I will be able to teach this new baby crop about home made valentines.

I just talked to Joanna on the phone. She's still at home, still stalled out in labor, but resting and eating and drinking orange juice as instructed - exhausted, hoping she can rest a little, then labor will pick up and Andrea will be here. Her labor is reminding me of my labor with her, which was stop and start from Friday night to tenish Sunday morning. Bob and I are having a really good weekend withthe kids. They are such a sweet part of our life. It's hard for me to imagine what it will be like to have this new pair of grand babies, a whole new phase, extension of roles, set of adventures. At this moment I'm more excited than nervous.

Ruth is still believing her labor won't just start on its own, but of course it could. She and Chris are enjoying an evening at home together. It has to be strange for her to be done with work - without Liam in arms just waiting and seeing about the next stage in her life.

Baby pins and needles here. Joanna went into the hospital last night to be checked because she was having hours of contractions ten minutes apart, but was sent home. I hope she's OK. I hope Andrea's OK. Keep praying if you pray. Nothing's happening out of the ordinary. Waiting is just hard. We have the big kids, who are sweet as can be. KK is about to go to jazz class.

All's well with Bob. Normal blood pressure this morning - good even 106 over sixty something. His doctor is not worried at all and we are looking forward to a good weekend - maybe babies. Still at work, just updating.

I didn't post last night because I was a little nuts - both Joanna and Ruth had baby appointments which showed babies in positions which would require c sections and Bob wasn't feeling well. Today I've calmed down - Joanna's Andrea was turned - I'm sure difficult for Joanna, but at least turned and hopefully ready to be born soon in the normal fashion. Joanna is home resting. Ruth doesn't know anything new about Liam, but she seems steady (as does Joanna) and I'm trying to be the same. BOb was right in guessing that his blood pressue was up and is coming home tonight for a doctor's appointent in the orning to check that out I'm playing wishful thinking and believing he'll be fine in the morning, that it was just a stress reaction. So much has been going on. I know that if there is anything off with his circulatory system it is better to know. I'm just scared. But not crazy tonight.

"We must strengthen the activities of the Federal government as we protect the American people from terrorism...We must restore the credibility of this Department, which has been so badly shaken by allegations of improper political interference....and we must reinvigorate the traditional missions of the Department. Without letting down our guard in the fight against global terrorism, we must embrace the Department’s historic role in fighting crime, promoting civil rights, preserving the environment, ensuring fairness in the marketplace, and protecting the interests of our fellow citizens."

Eric Holder, Attorney General of The United States of America, February 3, 3009

Quiet day - good day. I think I'm hibernating, waiting for babies to come, afraid to stir around to much, just hoping all will be well, afraid to count on it.

Bob and I had a sweet, quiet, restful weekend, which I think we both needed. A highlight, yesterday, was seeing RUth and Chris for a few minutes, both of them glowing after their "pregnant" photo shoot. Pretty soon they will be photographed with Liam in arms! So soon now! And for Andrea too!

Yesterday we got him replacement glasses (for a pair whose frame just spontaneously broke) - got two pair, progressives and readers on a good price deal. I felt very thankful to be able to buy the glasses, buy a few jewelry supplies at Micheal's, a book at Barnes and Nobel and then go out for Chinese dinner at a place we've never tried (good orange beef and General Tsou's chicken which we happily shared). We walked a little in beautiful weather, but not as much as we sometimes do. Yesterday K.K. called her teacher Grandpa twice for homework help, which he easily and quickly provided - more sweet oments.

We slept in, both days. I think I slept better and longer than I have in months. We hung clothes together and pulled them in off the line together, cooked, talked, cleaned the kitchen. We also watched an unusual amount of TV -highlights being an hour on the rise of Barack Obama's political career, a documentary about the convergence of the habitats of polar and grizzly bears, and especially, the film The Golden Door which is a superb piece of magical realism about the experience of Itallian immigrants coming through Ellis Island. It was gorgeous visually, and really caught me, even with subtitles.

This afternoon, I helped Bob edit a proposal for a grant for "Step-Up-To-The-Plate-Back-Packs" to provide back packs full of books and games for parents to use at home with their fourth graders. Each segment of the grant proposal was allowed to have only 100 words and I had an inordinate amount of fun condensing - one of my quirky strengthe. Give me a detail oriented writing task and I glow - a hard enough math problem, well, I might just hide under the bed and give e a mop to put together and I'll end up wailing!

Short post tonight. Bob will be home any minute after a frustrating work week teaching kids who were keyed up and not paying attention. I want to welcome him to a peaceful weekend - no more stress. I'm thankful for my own work week, busy, productive, but not difficult or stressful.

Last night was my first experience with reading a piece of a published essay at a book event. The book is STRICKEN, The 5,000 Stages of Grief. And WOW! The reading was an amazing event. The local independent book store ( Book People) expected (set up chairs for) about 50 people and closer to 200 showed up - maybe more. They stood and milled all around in back and way off to the sides of the original seating area, so it was hard to tell. My friend, one of the co-editors (Spike Gillespe) is quite a local character and much loved in liberal Austin circles. She was a wonderful host for the proceeding and said kind things about many of us who read, and about me in particular. Ruth, Chris, Ruth's friend Bryn my business partner Bill, and several clients and friends came mostly for me, and the support felt great.

I think I read well - Ruth and Chris and Bryn said I read well. I'd been really nervous for most of a week, but calmed down as time got closer and after I had practiced and timed my reading about 20 times ( Who has or at least an anxiety disorder and a tendency to over prepare? Not me, never!) Five minutes goes fast in a reading. I had to edit carefully to stay in the time allotted. I was also calmed and centered greatly by the advice of a friend to remember the needs of the audience, rather than focusing on my own feelings. That worked.

Apparently I brought many people to tears, which was not my intention, but which was OK in a grief context. I was moved to tears myself by the pain and recovery and impressed by the writing of many of the other contributors. I got amazing lengthy applause, which felt good - and the books sold fast enough that the book store people had to replace the initial stash on the table up front. Contributors will get our books soon. The books are available for prepurchase on line and will will be widely available in Mach. There's actually a social network for contributors too and fans of the book, which is kind of cool. I just joined. http://strickenbygrief.ning.com/ One can also purchase books there.

In the sleety night I stepped out onto the porch just to look at the sky and the trees and was startled to see a beautiful, fat, brilliant crimson cardinal taking shelter in my hedge, just a few feet from my front door. I was both delighted and concerned, but he was gone in the morning, so I assue he survived both ice and neighborhood cats. Caleb, our cat, was intdoors with me, staying warm, no threat to feathered beauties.

It's sleety out - always an unpleasant novelyty in Austin. I keep peaking out hte door and watching the wind stir the hedges. Cold out there! And I'm nervous about reading my grief essay at Book People tomorrow night. A friend reinded me to think about hte listeners, not myself - and that helps. Both the weather and stage fright make me choose today's quote.

Art - and life - is about improvisation, discovery and awe. It is about leaning over the edge and staring deep into the abyss. It's about staring into our own inadequacies and, just as we think we might come up short, finding the answer that we need was there all the time. As we create we not only reveal Reality, we reveal ourselves.
Todd Henry

"This moment of peril must be turned to one of progress," President Barack Obama

I'll take that as the quote of the day, whether we're talking about global national, or personal issues. Seems like many people I know are struggling - and achieving transformations - on all fronts.

I'm happy tonight, glowing, so pleased with my two pregnant daughters and my good close friends. Both daughters are well showered now. And my room is becoming a nest or grandbaby rocking. I write with a smile on my face.

We were made to enjoy music, to enjoy beautiful sunsets, to enjoy looking at the billows of the sea and to be thrilled with a rose that is bedecked with dew… Human beings are actually created for the transcendent, for the sublime, for the beautiful, for the truthful... and all of us are given the task of trying to make this world a little more hospitable to these beautiful things.
Desmond Tutu

There's a new White House web site for the new administration - very cool, with everything from historic White House pets and quotes and biographies from former Presidents to Obama policies on just about everything of importance to an up to date blog on Presidential actions and a video of his first weekly address (this time about the recovery program). White House web site is http://www.whitehouse.gov/. Thanks Mary J.

People travel to wonder at the height of the mountains, at the huge waves of the seas, at the long course of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and yet they pass by themselves without wondering.
St. Augustine

Disturbing today. I learned that an eighty five yeat old woman was burned to death in a house fire last week on the street I walk down to the bus stop. I was reminded of our own terrible house fire and my terror believing Joanna had burned to death. I am shaken thinking about that woman's terror trapped in her house, and hoping that, even given how she died, she was satisfied with having been able to stay in her house to the end of her life. I think that would be true for me - even in the face of the terror of a firey death. This incident somehow makes me want to work for a renewal of a clser neighborly feel.

I think I need a new theme now that Martin Luther King Day and the inauguration are behind us and the babies aren't quite here yet. I am short on words, but want to keep up the habit of writing something here every day. I have noticed this week that economic anxieties are hitting a wide variety of people I know and meet, at work and otherwise, and it is hard not to feel anxious around all that anxiety. I keep just breathing in and breathing out - knowing worrying doesn't help. That's true about anxiety about my daughters and their babies too. I heard a story this week of a young woman who is terribly ill wiht HELLP syndrome after giving birth to her twins, and it scares me. And I work to keep breathing in and breathing out and avoid calling daughters every few hours to ask about their blood pressure and the presence of any other symptoms. THey are fine. I know they are fine. And worrying won't keep them fine. And if I bug them they will just get scared themselves or swat me. I wrote a poem to my worry.

Worry

Worry, you gnaw
under ribs, howl
like winter wind.
I starve you, refuse
to toss you worst
case scenarios,
change all I can,
center energy,
inhale, exhale
pray, create,
use every skill
I've learned.
Still, you gnaw,
worry. I accept you.

Victoria Hendricks,
January 21, 2009

First day of new administration - hope still rising. It's quiet here tonight - long but good work day.

Poems for this Inauguration day - mine first - then the official praise song for the day written by Elizabeth Alexander. I'm still smiling everytime I hear the words "President" and "Obama" in the sae sentence.

Bloodless

No blood in the streets,
just marching bands,
tumblers, troops dancing,
guns lowered, salutes
exchanged, Ritual letter
left in drawer of Presidential
desk. Civilized passage of
mantle. Whatever happens
tomorrow,, I am thankful for
national tradition and institutions
which allow orderly change,
no blood in the streets.

Victoria Hendricks - January 20, 2009



'Praise Song for the Day'


Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others’ eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

ALEXANDER: A farmer consider the changing sky; A teacher says, “Take out your pencils. Begin.”

We encounter each other in words, Words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; Words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, “I need to see what’s on the other side; I know there’s something better down the road.”

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by “Love thy neighbor as thy self.”

Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

Elizabeth Alexander

I've been watching and listening to the inauguration of President Barack Obama all day - thank goodness for a liberal client base. Nobody wanted to do therapy today. I love our new President's speech, its inclusions of a balanced sense of our nation's history, not just the prouder moments. I like the call to live from our higher natures. He doesn't say "love not ego", but I think he says it in his own way, in his own words. It is my prayer for him, for all who work closely with him - that they come, every moment from love, not ego. In that vein, I love Obama's responsibility focus, and the statement that we need to "Pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off." his wish for us was that we proceed in hope, not fear - and I'll take that one, for sure.

It's been fun to watch the Obamas have fun - clearly enjoying the parade, the music, the bands. I like it that Michelle Obama lets herself move to the music, free relaxed. Barack Obama too seems so alive, moving to music. And of course, the little girls are darling.

I have especially been enjoying the interviews with people who were there throughout the Civil Rights Movement. I could hardly hear John Lewis over my own crying. He's come a long way from being beaten over the head on the Edmund Pettis Bridge.

I loved seeing Ted Kennedy able to participate in the festivities before he had a seizure at the celebration luncheon I just heard that he will probably be dismissed from the hospital tomorrow and that his seizure was probably caused by fatigue. I remember that Bobby Kennedy predicted that one day we would elect an African American President. I don't know how many believed him. Well, you were right Bobby. Wish you were here today

I hope that Hilary Clinton is confirmed tomorrow despite a certain idiot from Texas. I just heard the confirmation that Marian Robinson, Michelle Obama's mother will be living at the White House, which I think is good. The Obamas seem to be thoroughly enjoying the day. I believe they both understand how serious their work is, the work they have to do - but I think they are taking a break today and enjoying it. Me too. It feels so good to have this inauguration happening. Someone, maybe Jesse Jackson, refered to Dr. Martin Luther King as "the prophet and the President" - gives me good chills.

Even in all the excitement the stock market fell 350 more points. In the morning the work will get going for good. I am thankful to live in a country in whcich the transfer of power is orderly and civilized, decided by voters even in times of crisis. Right now on our TV former President Bush just called President Obama "a good man" and offered up prayers for him. So different than a coup.