Monday, August 16, 2010

(Shadow and Shimmer)

Thanks to the poet Barbara Cornwall for challenging our Writers Workshop to write acrostics! Here's mine:

Caught in a sunbeam, immobile
as web-snared moths,
the tigers sprawl across the deck,
Shimmer and Shadow
nose to nose, whiskers
an arrangement of filaments
pulsing with each languid breath,
paws relaxed, striped flanks
iridescent with sleep, while
nearby in the ash tree squirrels
gambol and chitter, jubilant
in shady branches, safe
now for the moment from feline
threat, free as hummingbirds
hovering at the begonia baskets,
each animal in its own mind
something special in a nurturing
universe, one with the loving
nature of the summer sun.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

This morning it has been exactly two months since I began the much-delayed kitchen makeover. The cabinets have been stripped and repainted, the gleaming new hardware sparkles in early light. There is a new coat of paint on the walls and the shabby old Formica counter top is now a gentle cocoa brown. It has been an enormous amount of work with so much remaining to be done - a new sink to come, new floor tiles, back-splash and counter edge molding . . .

For months I have been totally focused on each minute aspect of the project, taking time out only for yoga practice and writer's workshop, every bit of creative energy directed toward the goal of a reborn kitchen. So many other concerns sitting on the back burner - this blog for one. Today I will restore balance by sitting quietly in my geodesic dome noticing each turn of leaf, each shift of shadow as Summer sun turns the Japanese maples into stained glass panels. I won't go anywhere near the garage where a stack of mill-work awaits my attention. Or so I say over my second cup of tea. We'll see.