Very early afternoon. Carol is asleep under cover on the bed after
washing, drying, ironing and folding clothes. Jada is resting on the foot of
the bed curling into a nap ball, throwing her tail up over her nose because she
is cold; she'll soon be napping herself. This morning you had a leisurely bath
with the bubbler on then later to the dentist to have a 1991crown taken off and
the prep for a replacement in three weeks. Spooky just sauntered in the room
making an inspection. Just as suddenly after a couple of carpet sniffs she pulls
herself under the bed blue bed curtain for her own nap. You are left with only
an inch or so of the black tip of her tail as evidence. Now the tail tip
disappears also. And, what about you orndorff, are you ready for a nap also? -
Amorella
1257 hours. I'm thinking about it in that I just ate a piece of Hershey
chocolate. It is cool, cloudy and quite windy outside; somewhat conducive for
shutting the eyes and resting in the silence.
Post. - Amorella
You had a late lunch at
Panera and Carol is in Kroger's at Mason-Montgomery, mostly for bread and
bananas. You both had an hour or so nap and are feeling refreshed. You assume
the cats are still napping. - Amorella
`1608 hours. It is still a cold rainy day with brisk wind, temperature
is 43. Two things I like about the Apple watch that I hadn't even consider when
I got it for Christmas, the local temperature is always on the face and I can
call and receive phone calls (via Siri) as long as I am in the house. Who would
have thought. And, if I were to have a heart attack or accident, as long as I
had the phone nearby I could call 911 via the watch and the emergency squad
could find me via GPS. Pretty cool.
Perhaps we can work on chapter eighteen and
finish it up today. - Amorella
1619 hours. I'm feeling pretty good, at least better each day. I had no
back spasms yesterday but I still felt better sleeping in the chair so I
couldn't toss and turn as I sometimes do. I don't know how Soki's Choice
is going to be. I'm sure I'll be surprised when I read the completed final.
"If I live that long." You forgot to add
that. - Amorella
1710 hours. We are home. Yes, it is on my mind. I don't have the drive I
had when I wrote the three Merlyn books, one a year for three years. Looking
back it is a bit embarrassing that I didn't realize they were near final
drafts, not profession-like final ones. Maybe they were not even near final,
just drafts. Me, an English major and teacher of English for 37 years can't
seem to write a final draft to much of anything but my poetry, some of which I
would never change if I lived for a thousand years. Why did this pop into my
head? I can't even think of one poem but I'm sure there are one or two I would
never change.
Let's search through those poems you and Bob
worked on. - Amorella
1716 hours. At the moment I can't think of one of them, let alone the title.
How bad is this? -- Okay, I found the file: "Take Two".
You
discovered two poems and you are confused by each upon today's reading but
inwardly, heartansoul wise you spot a truth of who and what you are. One is
"Note to my Muse" from the 1980's and the other "Living with the
Dead" is from the 1990's. - Amorella
1731 hours. The words and structure haunt me still. Strange they are so
real charged upon reading again, twice now, and forgotten as though from
another world.
** **
NOTE TO MY MUSE
by Orndorff
Some
days, when I think I am soon a dead man
I
demand your naked soul leave my bloody hands
and
return to where she so rightfully belongs.
Stubbornly,
your opened soul will not leave;
she
sits hot and protests on my aching bones.
I
am struck by her deep, unbridled power --
she
stays freely, and with such tenacity.
LIVING WITH THE DEAD
by Orndorff
To study and inspect the
past of a life human-like to the core
is to behold as people
say, the pumping thing itself
the genealogist comes
out as the grave-digger I was --
in my youth I buried a
few and napped in open grave
I remember the tree
above, and the sky above
green;
I smiled and climbed while the rest
wait below;
to get out of that hole; being alive has
advantages;
in such cases I am so
told being dead also has
DNA.
The acids talked about on
CSI and Cold Case Files
trickles in the blood
to an eventual clot.
The DNA, though dead,
returns
to haunt the guilty.
In CSI and Cold Case Files the rush to
judgment
by a double-helix
a double mix in rubble
to catch a crook
full of life and terror
while watching, the genealogist comes out
as the grave-digger I was,
wondering
who anyone really is.
Have I, a murderer in the
genes,
trickling in the blood,
who smiles, scampers studying
my past
who roots the family
tree
before leafing to a clot.
Human-like to the core is old life
and glean-full of terror.
I, with mystery, open old
books of family
tales of once kings
and queens; I with
blood thin
royal blue and commoner red
pumping
for what nature calls immortality.
Youth --
full-sexed in body physics
scouting --
an ever new branch of family tree;
discovering -- we go back almost
4000 years
of ancient names --
reminders of the dead within
echo from the far and
near the dead once full of life
what, I wonder, of those,
the other dead with names forgot
who make up the mixing of
me and you -- we are cousins each;
we carrying the dead
through rushing blood,
kings and queens and we
commoners with common blood, red and clotting.
Selected from the
unpublished Take Two by Robert Pringle and Richard Orndorff
** **
1740
hours. "Note to my Muse" is a spiritual poem. The point of view: I am
dead yet still haunted by what life was. Whose naked soul is this? The Muse of
Thought and Projection living still within though I am dead.
An honest enough response upon today's
reflection. - Amorella
1747 hours. I am the summary of those genetic family dead before me. I
am living proof of their previous existence. In the 1990's Great Aunt Floy,
Aunt Patsy and myself showed kings and queens in our ancestral chart. At the
time I believed this to be true through the female to Sir John Huband (abt 1285
- abt 1350) [the Huband's of Ipsley] and Margaret de Lucy (abt 1295 - abt 1363)
of Warwickshire, England back to King Duncan II (MacCrinan) and Queen Ethelreda
of Dunbar and his father and mother, Malcolm III and Ingeborg Finn and on to his father Duncan I. This is
according to Sir William Dugdale's ((1605-1686) The Antiquities of
Warwickshire, and it is reflected in the second poem, "Living with the Dead".
1824
hours. The above is what some in our family believed to be true at the time. We
were descendants (though distant) of Duncan II and Malcolm III and Duncan I of
Scotland. This may be but it isn't nearly as important as our DNA history. Within
our ancient DNA we show a mix Scottish
genes that go back some 5,000 years. All this geneology is not nearly so important to
me these days, being genetically human is enough.
You had peanut butter on an English muffin
and peanut butter of a piece of whole wheat bread for supper while Carol had a
ham and cheese sandwich. During NBC news and "Hardball" on MSNBC you
both verbalized your disgust with Trump and Company. One of the people in the
discussions on "Hardball" said this in relation to the current
administration: from a quote attributed to Lewis Carroll -- "If you don't
know where you are going, any road will get you there." You love the quote
in context but you see it in yourself also. Is this not so? - Amorella
2002 hours. It is in terms of my novels and many posts, no question about
it. I let you, the Amorella, set the directions. I attempt to consciously edit
or let whatever happens come serendipitously. An excellent example of this semi-conscious structure and content is in today's post. Consciously,
I have no idea how the post is going to begin and I have no idea where it will conclude.
Post. - Amorella
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