22 March 2013

A Touch of Word Vomit

Apparently it was World Poetry Day yesterday. I was so busy living life that I missed it. It was a busy day in my clinic and I worked hard. I met a few new faces and enjoyed a few that are becoming familiar. We like to  say that there's never a dull moment in the work that we do. And it's true. There is heartbreak, and poverty, and laughter, and hope. It is worth it.

But I would like to have time to read some new poets, or do a bit more writing of my own. I keep saying someday. When does someday become just another regret?

I was thinking about sweeping today. I like to sweep. It's physical, the swiping and bending and scraping the broomstraws across sun-dappled wood. And the pile of dust and dirt I create confirms the utility of my motions. A visual accomplishment. My mother-in-law likes to vacuum her floors, and I can see why. I'm sure it works better than my old broom, which is probably stirring up as much dust as it's gathering. But I just enjoy it. My grandmother used to sweep her carpet sometimes. It was a thin sort of carpet, and I don't know exactly why she would sweep it, but perhaps it was easier to spot clean than to drag out the old Hoover.

I've got hundred-year-old pine planks, the kind with wide cracks between them and wood patches that are crumbling out. Good thing I like to sweep. But don't imagine that I do so nearly as often as I should around here. I got off work early and chose to fool around in my studio for a little while rather than attack this old castle with the broom. My own vacuum is actually broken, and so some carpet sweeping might just be on the docket.

And then on the radio, I heard a piece about a woman in Waynesboro writing something called cozy mysteries. The plots revolve around some ladies who like to get together and scrapbook, and while doing so they somehow become amateur sleuths. She's got a 7 book contract with a publisher and is on the fourth book now, I believe. I don't know how people think all those plots up. But anyway, cozy mysteries are supposed to have less sex and violence in them than traditional mysteries. And no, I haven't Googled any of that, I am just writing from my memory of the NPR report.

When I get tired of the same CDs I have in the car, I flip back to the radio for a bit. This week it's been NPR. They had a week-long series about sexual assault against women in the military. Thankfully, I'm not in the car for very long at a time, so I didn't hear it all. I am not here to argue about the military, only here to say that it hurts my heart to hear of young men with 3 limbs blown off, or women who were raped by their superiors with no recourse, or that the suicide rate for soldiers now exceeds the combat death rate.

I tend to stay in my bubble of work and family but I am trying to peek out more.

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