Once Gold

Like Midas in this world
far removed from myths and gods,
your touch consumed it all--
time, the past, then even vague dreams.
In their places
are thoughts like statuettes.
They stare, unnerve me, remind me
that value is often measured differently.

So, once reminded, I think
Perhaps I didn't understand you.
But of course, I did.
And perhaps I didn't love enough?
But of course I did.

It is reflected in the obscene glint of all that is left
unconsumed.
It is in the grime that settles after droughts and dusty summers;
a blanket on the golden of the decayed.

In Passing: For my complicated friends.

A repost from my other blog...

It's time now to admit that if I'm lucky
these are my middle years.
That while watching the obvious enormity
of each morning rise,
this other life I couldn't watch
became the one I'm living.

Before I thought to look, four decades passed,
while people wandered in and out of doubt
and of these years.
And while I thought I was moving
(or knew I was standing still)
I met the people who will become
my old, complicated friends in another cycle of time.

In our complications then
we'll play chess and talk of now with nostalgic fondness
while watching the imperceptible shadow of each day fall.
And if we're honest, we'll admit we're content
with enduring our passions
and with the passing decades.

It's then, I think, that time will stall.

~Mari Nichols-Haining

Is it a roar, or a meow?

I'm not going to lie. I get a thrill when I successfully fix something around the house, especially if it's something that seemed daunting to me when I considered trying. Being single has been educational: I've learned to use a propane torch, sweated pipes, fixed a dishwasher and a washer and dryer, wired lights and doorbells, and deconstructed (then reconstructed) a box spring that was too tall for a stairwell. I just purchased my own multimeter and electric receptacle tester; I purchased and own my own circular, jig, chain, miter, and hack saws; and I literally carry the scar of someone who has learned, through trial and huge error, how not to cut her finger off when the protective plate for the electric hedge trimmer is broken.


The cycle of concentration-frustration-elation (wash, rinse, repeat)