Lit blog

[cherries_on_snow]

Came home from work early toady, we got "rained out"... pulled up to find that the neighborhood demon children had vandalized what was left of my little garden. My first instinct was to just let it go, then I though, fuck that! there is no excuse for people not watching their kids, the mom sits on her ass all day and lets them run wild while other people are out working their butts off.

my hubby called the law. those folks are no stranger to that tho, the cops wree there yesterday too. I despise this place I live now. it is hell, or close to it. good thing we came home early, who knows what else they might have done

That's awful, Maria. You are doing them a favor to not let it go. If those kids don't realize there are consequences for their actions, they will encounter far far worse in their later lives. Giving them consequences for misbehaviour may be the best love they've ever been shown.

I'm very sorry about your garden, though, as one gardener to another. *hug*

 

[Maria2394]

Thanks, COS they didnt ruin the entire thing, just enough to be very discouraging. Anyway, I can clone the coleus and autumn sedum and the azaleas are very resilient.

Hmm, I was gonna write about my job, be specific, but I am so damned tired, I dont really wanna think about that place today. The good thing is they keep me so busy time just zips by.Yesterday was overtime, if I had worked today, it woudl have been..but I needed some sleep.

Thye had me painting support trays yesterday, I was up by the little road that encircles the coal pile that is fed ino the boiler. There are huge trucks that go by all day and the drivers kept waving at me, so I had to turn my back to them, that made it worse I had on wat hubby calls my "cute butt " jeans. lol

BUzzards circled the job site all day, it felt like an omen, but I guess there was something dead we couldnt see or smell. Thank God. I was really surprised by the life out there. I mean, a power plant SHOULD be clean, but thre is nothing nasty except coal dust. All day long butterflies float around and lizards, hehe, and even a mouse visited me on the hill. It ran under a frame I was working on, got freaked out by ME and ran back to the fence by the coal pile.

ITs kinda funny, the conveyor belt pulls the pulverized coal from the middle of the mountain and then the cone collapes so that it looks just like a volcano that has blown its top.I wreally wanna see Mt St Helens some day. I remember when it blew up and out and every day at work I think about her.

well, all you women out there who know what its like to have one man to fetch for and keep straight, I have about 40 and man, they are so nice to me. I did freak some of them out when I was able to handle a 300 lb frame on my own. I only had to roll it over, but they were aghast ( the best word I could think of) I toldem I had muscles, they laughed, then I pulled up my shirt sleeve and flexed and they all told hubby he better be extra good to me.

I love being surrounded by men, it makes me feel safe and loved. I know thats sick, but its true. Somting about my childhood and an emotionally distand dad who never really hugged me. PLus the pay is better than any "woman' job I could ever find without being totally miserable.

well, love you Litsters, Im off to do laundry



maria

 

[cherries_on_snow]

I'm glad to hear that there is hope for the garden, Maria. I had to leave mine when I moved to New Jersey (ironically, I'm in the Garden State without a garden). Luckily the woman who bought my house is also a gardener and will do well with it, I think. She was excited to hear about the perennials when I took her on a careful tour (complete with graph paper map).

Today my biological son comes to visit me. I'm so excited! Waiting for his call. He will land in LaGuardia at any minute. (I had him when I was in my freshman year of Uni and, deciding he'd be better off with parents who had jobs and health care and stability, planned to complete the pregnancy and put him in the hands of adoptive parents. I went through a private social worker and am glad now that I did because I got to choose the parents, and it made it much easier later when we wanted to have contact.) We've seen each other a handful of times, but only when I visited the midwest. Now he's coming here and I'm so nervous but happy. (Partly I'm nervous because my boyfriend is closer to his age than to mine )

It's weird how genetics work. From the first time we talked, it was easy between us. We talk openly and candidly. That makes me wonder, does anyone else have any separated at birth tales? I think there must be something to it: the way genetics can play a part in temperament. Maybe it's just coincidence, though.

 

[Senna Jawa]

The huge black hammer.
It just happens. It is the
world. It left black holes
forever.

 

[Senna Jawa]

my friends

The WWII is over. Script "s" is hard to write. My aunt is a pre-WWII teacher. She spanks my hand with a ruler. I am 4. The exercise booklet accompanying "Elementarz" (first textbook to teach children Polish) has small digits as subscripts-references, and the respective notes are at the bottom of the page. These small digits are my friends, we understand each other well.

Twenty three years later my oldest child had a similar experience in the first grade of an elementary school in Ann Arbor (Michigan). She told me much later that after solving problems she followed the attached discrete, small digits, and checked answers at the bottom of the page. I was not cheating--she said--I was honestly solving the problems and only checking my answers.

 

[bluerains]

understood

Ambidexterity

The WWII is over. Script "s" is hard to write. My aunt is a pre-WWII teacher. She spanks my hand with a ruler. I am 4. The exercise booklet accompanying "Elementarz" (first textbook to teach children Polish) has small digits as subscripts-references, and the respective notes are at the bottom of the page. These small digits are my friends, we understand each other well.

Twenty two years later my oldest child had a similar experience in the first grade of an elementary school in Ann Arbor (Michigan). She told me much later that after solving problems she followed the attached discrete, small digits, and checked answers at the bottom of the page. I was not cheating--she said--I was honestly solving the problems and only checking my answers.

 

[champagne1982]

I've been told I need to write this out, for everyone who'll ever be in my situation. If I can't express the pain then how can someone, who doesn't write, tell those close to them what they're going through?

I don't know. I don't know why I collapsed and cried in grief and frustation, when I should have been rejoicing that I'd been granted another week. I don't know why I fear this chance more than I fear the certainty of death waiting on the other path.

I wish I knew. Sometimes the pain inside my body is easier to deal with than the pain of telling my lover that I feel it. I dont want to hurt him with my agonies and concerns. Is that wierd? Why do I feel obliged to protect him when he is the harbour for my heart?

I don't know. I just don't know.

 

[Senna Jawa]

typo

Before WWII my parents lived in Warsaw (Poland). WWII separated them. They learned whereabouts of each other from friends. My mother made the trip from Stanislawow to Lwow (Lviv, Ukraina), to join my father. Many Poles vanished in Lwow. Soviets were either killing them or detaining. My parents decided to leave. My father got an option to go to Nizny Tagil (Urals) to work for a foundry. The foundry was recruiting men only but my mother went too, with several dozens of men, by train. My parents had no extra clothes at all. It was relatively warm in Lwow but very cold in Nizny Tagil. Initially they all stayed in one huge room for overnight, many men and one woman. The men from Poland were cultural and my parents had fond memories, several of them became friends for life. Next my parents moved to a small house owned by a virtually illiterate Soviet prosecutor. They lived in the kitchen, it was not too bad. The prosecutor would ask my father "In Poland you had it much better than here, in Russia". And my father would answer "No, no, it's better here". This sounds funny, because the conditions in Russia were primitive and much poorer than in Poland. But if my father had fallen for the trap and told him the truth, both he and my mother would be arrested.

My mother worked in the foundry too. She was a chemist, her job carried a big responsibility. She watched the color of the fire and was deciding when metal should be taken out of the foundry oven. The quality of the metal depended on her judgement.

The hunger was horrible. My older sister died before I was born. My father has made a typical mistake. They were giving an extra ration of bread in the mine. So he switched. It was a difficult, dirty mine, a copper mine. The work was still so much harder than in the foundry that the extra ration was nothing. Soon my father nearly died from hunger, he had third degree atrophy, was swelled from hunger. Only then he had spent a few days in the hospital. That's all. A few days and back to the mine.

I spent some time in hospital too. Parents were not allowed to visit. They came once and stayed outside, under a balcony. I looked at them and would not smile. My mother felt crushed. Otherwise I spent my days in a kindergarten for small babies.

Miners die fast in Russia. There were almost no rest days. The mine was a trap, like a camp, there was no way out. Almost. My father took courses at a technical school (college), which moved to Nizny Tagil from Krivoy Rog (Ukraina) due to the war. Somehow he found energy to take exams, and he was doing great. He was always showing me proudly his "index" (a small book with grades) with top grades. Once the front went West and Krivoy Rog was freed, the college moved back. And so did we. Communism and communist propaganda was stressing education, so it worked!

Krivoy Rog was destroyed during WWII like Warsaw, in 90%. My father found a basement in ruins and that's where we lived. My mother had invented there special kind of materials--two kinds of boards made of leftovers from processing wood. These boards allowed to build small houses fast and cheap. There was an article in the local newspaper about her. My brother was born there. We could be relatively well off in Krivoy Rog but the front went West, and so did we, my parents wanted to be back in Poland.

In Krivoy Rog we lived in ruins. In Warsaw we moved twice into a building which was built only partially and was still under constructions. In one of my poem (in Polish) I have written:

I grew up in buildings
which were growing with me
​

Or in Polish:

rosłem w domach
które rosły ze mną
​

 

[Maria2394]

Dear SJ-

THe story you have shared has brought tears of admiration to my eyes. I knew you had led a difficult life, well, I suspected. But I had no idea the strength of will and heart that you and your parents possess(ed). I am truly glad you survived and made it here to teach me. And I do not mean just about poetry.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I've been told I need to write this out, for everyone who'll ever be in my situation. If I can't express the pain then how can someone, who doesn't write, tell those close to them what they're going through?

I don't know. I don't know why I collapsed and cried in grief and frustation, when I should have been rejoicing that I'd been granted another week. I don't know why I fear this chance more than I fear the certainty of death waiting on the other path.

I wish I knew. Sometimes the pain inside my body is easier to deal with than the pain of telling my lover that I feel it. I dont want to hurt him with my agonies and concerns. Is that wierd? Why do I feel obliged to protect him when he is the harbour for my heart?

I don't know. I just don't know.

it is natural to want to protect and instill joy in the ones we love and when we feel their sorrow ours grows as well... wishing you well champ, tko!

 

[Senna Jawa]

Dear SJ-

The story you have shared has brought tears of admiration to my eyes. I knew you had led a difficult life, well, I suspected. But I had no idea the strength of will and heart that you and your parents possess(ed). I am truly glad you survived and made it here to teach me. And I do not mean just about poetry.

Dear Maria, thank you for your kind words. This was a horrible War, horrible to millions upon millions. Stalin and Soviets were murdering or making suffer their own. Germans under Hitler were murdering millions of others, in particular Jews, but also Gypsies/Romans, Poles, etc. And the Soviet political system tried to reduce people to creatures without will and memory.

It's so sad that since WWII many people had equally or more terrible experiences in China, South-East Asia, Indonesia, Africa, MidEast Asia, Central America, even Europe, not to mention for instance the children in the Central and South America, even in Rio. And women are murdered by the members of their own family in several Moslem and/or Asiatic countries.

Those who are raised or live in disfunctional families in the USA may go through equally harsh experiences. Etc., etc. There is no end to human suffering.

***

I even have ideas how to make the human society nicer. These ideas are difficult to implement because they are almost self-contradictory, the main assumption being non-imposing. To promote ideas without any imposition means to promote education, which is difficult. I am neither energetic nor crazy (e.g. I don't write letters to politicians ) nor skilful enough, and I don't even have any political temperament. Why, I don't even care to be a published poet . Hence years are passing, and things are happening the way they are. All this is simply a part of chaos. This world is nothing but chaos.

 

[DeepAsleep]

I got blindsided, yesterday, by an Israeli girl and she sang to me. Romance and foolishness, but she sang to me, just me and I whispered poems into her ear and,

well.

It was amazing.

I finally beat Prufrock - she sang to me, salty wet hair thrown back from her face, a mermaid sang to me.

Too many girls.

It's good to be alive.

~R

 

[RhymeFairy]

I find it funny ....

Being a single Mom and telling that to a guy. Then watch as they run as if all the fires in hell were at their heels. Good thing I'm not a 8 foot Viking with a club, looking for fresh meat eh ~

 

[Maria2394]

today was the fifteenth day on th job. Last Friday was the first day that my legs didnt seize up on the ride home. Last year on the bank job, I wore my pedometer and averaged about 11 miles a day. I'm pretty sure I have surpassed that daily average this job. Ive lost nine pounds and some of the guys picked on me about my arm muscles today.

Its been a great job so far, despite the heat and humidity. We get a lot of rain by the lake. I have realized I am no longer terribly afriad of heights. This is a good thing. I was given the task of installing flanges and gaskets on the reducer vavles up on the tank today. I had to wear a harness for one fit and wedge myself in between two really huge pipes. The elevation was 26 feet. The ones I have to do tomorrow are 55 feet. When we worked at the Cross Power plant last year, I had to go up 260 feet on a teeny 18 inch grate and walk across the side of the boiler house. It was terrifying, and it was at night which someone how made it worse.I dont know if I could do that again...

its waaay past bedtime. My eyes hurt and my face is still hot. whaa whaaa

sweet dreams ever'body



maria

 

[Maria2394]

I wish I could say that I am home playing hoohy from work. The truth is I fel like hammered dog sh*t. ( as mu hubby woudl say)

I have a sore throat, my body aches and I dont really even feel like typing. I did manage a poem i n the passion thread.

we are going on 6 tens from now on. I miss writing. I really do.

 

[Maria2394]

I wish I could say that I am home playing hooky from work. The truth is I feel like hammered dog sh*t. ( as hubby would say)

I have a sore throat, my body aches and I dont really even feel like typing. I did manage a poem i n the passion thread.

we are going on 6 tens from now on. I miss writing. I really do.

 

[Seduceros2]

If only I existed

I've been looking over all and each's blog entries. Nice to see lives on the planet spinning along. Sorry to hear about your illness Ms. Maria, truly. My twofold time here is to shuffle out some creative bespectacled critters, call them poems, and run into the suburban brush. I hide there, safe, ducking carlights, posing as flora because it's fun to imagine that I'm fooling drivers and drive-by-ers into thinking I'm vegetable instead of mineral. I hide because I'm in school after decades to become an English teacher and don't wish some hypocritical parent to spy the tiniest jot of iota of a quark's dust mite to indicate that his little whatever's Mr. English Teacher is, was, will be writing erotica.

Yeah, 'tis sad.

Neverthemind. But thought it might be fun to dump a dollop of dis-metrical thought here, once in a while, since I'm so busy not existing.

Peace.

 

[DeepAsleep]

My weekends have been berserk.

Last week was Beth, this week Virginia (if you've read my poems, "Heroin Fairy Tale and For V., 'I love you laughingly.' you'd have some idea what I was talking about, I guess.) came out of nowhere and we threw darts and drank in the crappy hole in the wall sportsbar dive down the street from my apartment complex. We spilled beer and I showed her why you don't play darts against a barfly - hah. It was nice, in the way that spending time with someone you're instantly comfortable with always is. We overran the jukebox by putting in twenty dollars and since it was of the type where you can download songs, we played about forty social distortion songs in a row, much to the irritation of the country fans at the bar. There was one guy, though, who seemed to be a pretty big fan. He kept coming over and screaming, "GIDDY FUCKING UP! I LOVE SOCIAL D!" in between songs and long drinks out of his Busch Light tallboy.

(Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's Gina!)

Gina (read that so it rhymes with "VAGINA") and I spilled beer on ourselves and it was like a stupid scene in a movie, both of us going for the napkin at the same time and our hands meeting and the eyeball staring and the slow, secret smiles. Sweet, sweet girl.

So, we had sex and that was neat.

...

We went swimming today and I broke my face on the bottom of the pool. I needed stitches, but I used superglue, instead. filled in a half inch wide, inch long gash across my nose and I tell you this.

That. Shit. Burns.

Yay, facial scars. Boo, getting them by being stupid.

And it's not even Sunday, yet.

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

Ross!


Good to see you happy love.


yawn...is it winter yet?

 

[Maria2394]

the 28th, and all that deja vu stuff.

Some of you might remember that I have a weird pattern of numbers that keeps repeating in my life. well, just one number. 28.

My parents both passed on a 28th, as did both my grandfathers. Anyway, first thing this morning, I was holding a piece of steel for my fitter and he was drilling a hole to make a brace. The drill bit snagged and jerked, the drill motor flew out of his hand and whacked me in the arm and chest. I didnt really get hurt except for a tiny cut on my right arm.

about an hour later, I was opening a can opf welding rods, they have a pull top canister design, well, the ring popped and let me holding a piece of razor thin metal. I cut my middle finger on my right hand. oh well, I am 5 minutes away from bed. Good night Lit people, good night john boy, and good night Lit Blog



marrria

 

[RhymeFairy]

My son got off the bus today. He has been at a new school for 2 weeks now. I was really worried, at first. He being six and the new guy. Now I do not know whom to be worried for ...

Coming through the door he runs to me, grabs my leg and says

... Mommy can I tell you a secret ...

Seems he was sitting in the primary schools section of the bus. Another boy two years older that him started picking on him. He said they were friends, at first. Then the boy hit him on the upper arm. For what ... I never found out but my son said he told the older boy to stop. The boy hit him again, this time in the belly. My son proceeded to poke him and say stop it ... The older boy hit him again, I am not sure where ...apparently it became a free for all from there on.

Witnesses say my son whopped the tar outta the boy now I gotta go to the primary school for a conference ...

 

[cherries_on_snow]

My son got off the bus today. He has been at a new school for 2 weeks now. I was really worried, at first. He being six and the new guy. Now I do not know whom to be worried for ...

Coming through the door he runs to me, grabs my leg and says

... Mommy can I tell you a secret ...

Seems he was sitting in the primary schools section of the bus. Another boy two years older that him started picking on him. He said they were friends, at first. Then the boy hit him on the upper arm. For what ... I never found out but my son said he told the older boy to stop. The boy hit him again, this time in the belly. My son proceeded to poke him and say stop it ... The older boy hit him again, I am not sure where ...apparently it became a free for all from there on.

Witnesses say my son whopped the tar outta the boy now I gotta go to the primary school for a conference ...

Yeah, we're getting training on bullying and stuff in my school and it used to be when I was a kid we were taught to just hit em back. Now the thinking goes that this just escallates the conflict into violence (though your son was already in violence). I think the best thing is if the parties are taught to deal with conflict with words, but with bullies that doesn't work because they aren't reacting from anger. They are reacting from low self-esteem. Tricky stuff to be sure. Best of luck to you and your little fellah, RF!

 

[bluerains]

Yeah, we're getting training on bullying and stuff in my school and it used to be when I was a kid we were taught to just hit em back. Now the thinking goes that this just escallates the conflict into violence (though your son was already in violence). I think the best thing is if the parties are taught to deal with conflict with words, but with bullies that doesn't work because they aren't reacting from anger. They are reacting from low self-esteem. Tricky stuff to be sure. Best of luck to you and your little fellah, RF!

am seeing the side of the school system and home school...I have this great following of home schoolers....whom are ...friendly...cooperative...loving ....innocent....giving....
and non owership....wow...go figure....school system=bully...I greet them 2 by 2...

 

[cherries_on_snow]

forum dream

I had a dream last night that all the forum people were getting together for a barbecue and to go bowling. Why bowling I'll never know. It was very odd. And some of the people I was nervous about meeting I never even talked to because it was a big bowling alley and they were bowling on another lane, but some of the people here I bowled with on my team and we had a great time. Annaswirls was, in my dream, a damn good bowler (though on the other team) and got her name said over the loud speaker. And at first noone saw Rainman there, but that's because he was playing pinball and had been there before anyone else.

I told the team stuck with me that I was a lousy bowler, but we had a great time anyway and did pretty well. I believe I was drinking spiked cokes with Maria and Eve at some point. It was a fun though odd dream. Oh! and it was Sex and Death and VD who hosted the barbecue and ALL the weiners were veggie. (That should have clued me in to the fact it was a dream right there because first off I can't imagine either of those guys barbecuing in real life and also because noone but vegetarians likes veggie weiners.) Anyway, there ya go--my first Forum dream.

 

[Maria2394]

good morning, COS

Before we moved back in April, I would have similar dreams. Though they took place in my garden. Fool wrote apoem for me once, about a moonlight negligee and that stuck in my subconscious, and when I woudl dream about forum people, I was usually hosting a small group of us in my garden and I was always naked, but sort of surrounded by flowers and vines, lol.

we were never eating...as much as I write about food, thats curious.

OH! I got a funny anon email, its been a long time since I got an evil one. but this person said, "maria, do you realize how often you write about food? Do you get enough to eat, Hon?"

I had to think about that question. I deprive myself when I am not working because cookies and junk like that just sit there and make my clothes tight, but when I expend 4000 calories a day, I figure I can have cookies on occasion if I want them

I like to write about food and eating because its such a ncessary part of life. And how and what a person eats can say so much. I like cookie poems, they take the stress away somehow, and no, I really didnt eat the whole bag of fudge stripes, hubby had 3..and it took me 4 days,

xoxox

maria

ps, Eve- the bodybuilder is down here in SC, he aint the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he is a sweet guy. I might randomly ask him if he ever gets up that way...just for you!