122/365

start with a
crisp cucumber
cut into thirds and then speared,
and lathered with rock salt crystals
and a fine sprinkle of black pepper corns.
sparkling water poured
over cubes of ice
in a clear plastic glass
on a small wooden table
in front the patio doors
where the basil flowers
are blooming indiscriminately and
for reasons you don’t understand,
and the aubergine seems to be
thriving even though it’s
rooted in a pot that’s
already too small,
and you know it needs to be changed,
but you don’t know when you’ll get to it,
because if you really cared you’d have
already done something about it,
but you most likely won’t.
you’re already watering it
to keep it alive, doesn’t that seem
like more than enough,
but when it dies you’ll sit with the regret
for not doing more when you
knew you should have.

doing the thing
that needs to be done
when it needs to be done
seems like a lesson
you should
have learned
by now.

93/365

time-lapsed
is the best way
to experience plants.

this day was unhurried
and layered:

exited and entered
from one book to another,
bought the old barn
tinted paint for her room—
the short thrill
of running in a storm—
takeout pizza
from john’s  
two films
about flawed characters
doing their best.

the younger one
is drafting a song
about insecurity and being a ghost
the older one,
tired on her bed
plucks chords
before sleep.

time-lapsed
is the best way
to experience plants,
because sped up
they look more alive,
curving and yearning
toward the sun.

but children?
best to slow
them down
to still frames
lest they
burn out
quickly
and flicker
like errant
flames
left out
in the wind.

Unglued

Today, I asked the kids to do some writing about anything from their book that makes them think deeply. The idea was to see how long they can write without too much support and to get a glimpse at what kind of thinking they night be doing. I didn’t want to bug them with a conference, so I just walked around, peering over shoulders and giving little nudges when kids were stuck.


I noticed that I hadn’t watered my class planets in a few days, so I decided to do that. A few kids looked over at me, as I gently let spill the water. They grinned. I grinned back. It was a quiet peaceful exchange that made me feel a bit like Mr. Rogers. I’m not sure of the exact effect that tending plants in front of kids has on their psyche, but I would like to think that it is a positive one.


Maybe someday, when they are older and alone with a plant they will remember that middle school English teacher who loved his books and stories and writing- the one who kept his plants alive despite the fact that parts of his life were unglued.


…


I bought my ticket to go home for Karen’s memorial service. I have been anxious about this event and whether or not I could attend since she first entered the hospital back in July. It is hard with work and the start of a new year and a new job, but I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there to say goodbye and have some kind of closure. I want to be there for Jason and the rest of the family and I want them there for me. I wish I could stay longer, but the tug of work is too strong. It will be a whirlwind on a terrible airline (China Eastern- I have heard terrible things) but I have faith that it will work out. It is necessary and now that I know I am going I can relax a bit. I’ve never in my life been to a funeral or a memorial service and god damn it, if Karen Doherty’s won’t be my first one.


…


So here’s something crazy- I think I like email. I know people hate it. They get anxious when they have a packed inbox, but I have convinced myself that getting, answering and writing emails is some kind of writing game. I’m not saying that my emails are anything worth reading, but I like the idea of thinking that each email is more writing practice. Coupled with these daily posts, I think I am just honing my craft of getting words on a page, in somewhat fluid and interesting ways.


Of course I realise that this time and practice should be spent on my novel that is gathering dust on my laptop, but for the time being the utilitarian necessity of communicating with various people feels natural and sometimes even fun. They come in one after the other and I try to answer them all in a timely and complete fashion. I am sure I will look back on this post as a premature and stupid thing to think. And I am sure some of you are shaking your heads at my innocence, but in the meantime…oh wait there’s another email. But wait Jabiz, it is passed 10pm. No need to answer that one right now.


…


Kaia slept soundly tonight. We bought her a scented humidifier night light and the lavender mist may have done the trick for at least one night.