May. 7th, 2005

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In a counterproductive move I went garage saleing today. I am supposed to be getting rid of stuff and decluttering my life. It was an impulse. We all know by now that I'm impulsive. Anyway the find of the day was a sewing machine table for $5! Yay! It is even collapsible for easy portability. My sewing machine is just sitting on a desk right now which is less than ideal plus that desk will have to accommodate my computer in the future since the computer desk will be going with Rick. Yeah, I know it doesn't make a whole lot of sense for me to get the computer and him to take the computer desk, but the computer desk was a gift from his sister and it's huge and bulky and I don't really want it anyway.

I also found 3 pieces of PartyLite that match a piece I already have and I couldn't resist. Together they make a gorgeous set. I like pretty things - so sue me. So I spent $9 total on the PartyLite stuff and a few more dollars on a few random items that I needed. I also picked up a book I have been wanting to read and 50 cents is way cheaper than I would have paid if I had picked it up on Amazon used. I love garage sales. They make me happy. Sunshine, trees and flowers in bloom and cute, albeit whiney and naughty, kittens also make me happy.

I haven't seen Rick today at all. He was gone when I got up. He had an appointment with a realtor to look at places. There is a note on the message board that he's supposed to be having dinner with my brother and helping him trim trees tonight so I may not see him at all today if he doesn't come to gaming tonight.
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IN THE FOREST

On the soft carpet of the forest
To go on velvet footsteps
To sit at your feet
In the dappled sunlight, in silence
Far from the sounds of humans
To listen to the rustling of your leaves...
And to caress alternatively
With my hand and my look...
In a soft voice I call you
Using your magical names:
White-oak. Forest-aspen.
Maple. Hornbeam.
Black-alder. Willow. White Birch.

My thousand mute friends.


A CHILD'S FEELING

Such love as that for the trees?
From my tenderest age
When I caressed their bark
With my babyish hand.
When I glued my ear against them
To listen to the rustling of their leaves
The humming of their branches twisting in a high wind.
And the snap of their dry twigs breaking off.
When I tried to climb high, high!
Ever higher. From limb to limb.
A bird without wings!
And from there to marvel at the horizon.

...And how unpleasant the descent
To touch one's feet on the ground!

Trees of my childhood, tell me then
Where it came from so early
A love so profound for you?

Perhaps I was a tree
at the beginning of time...

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July 2009

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