Remember last week, when I issued a warning?
No, I wasn’t threatening anybody ... I was just trying to get the word out about this week ... more specifically, Friday, as it was expected to impact Saturday ... you know, that BIG DAY when everybody hops out of bed early and races to the computer to see what’s new on "Squiggles."
I didn’t want to induce widespread panic, so I didn’t announce that THE ELECTRICIANS ARE COMING! Instead, I just said very quietly that they would be converging on Brimm Manor to make some repairs and otherwise tweak our electrical system.
We were expecting to be without electrical service ALL DAY. Now how bad could that be for someone who grew up in the country with a kerosene lamp always at the ready?
Well, it sounded like a horrible circumstance. Without power ALL DAY? How could we possibly survive that? (Professor Squigglee is giving me one of those looks; he obviously thinks I’m making too much of this).
The main consequence, as I explained, was that “Squiggles” ... even if I could somehow manage to get it written, would likely never get posted. Not even late on Friday night as it usually is.
I even mentioned the possibility that we’d have to skip a week.
I know, there were a few sighs of relief at this ... it does get tiresome ... week after week after week ... right?
Well, the electricians didn’t come on Friday. It seems there was a scheduling problem ... so they’re coming NEXT week. Next Wednesday, as a matter of fact.
You don’t suppose they’re secretly “Squiggles” followers ... and didn’t want to miss an installment ... do you?
Anyway, here we are ... more or less ... with our usual Saturday morning appearance ... and Professor Squigglee and I hope you’re all in your places with bright, smiling faces.
MEANWHILE ... recent word from LOREE, Kansas, is that this is moving weekend for her.
You may recall that she has been in the process of giving up her home in the country and moving to town.
Loree, reacting to my early warning about the electricians bringing complications to Brimm Manor, said she’d likely be offline this weekend, too.
“One would almost think you planned it (the “Squiggles outage”) that way, to accommodate me! Thank you kindly!”
Well, Loree, as you may have discovered from my meandering explanation above, there’s no way I could take any credit for “planning” anything connected with this weekend.
As a matter of fact, the mere mention of the subject of moving brings back memories of many moves the Brimms have made ... the most recent being about 30 years ago now ... and we’re still looking for things that probably didn’t make the move with us.
It’s been my experience that a move never ends ... really never ends. There follows a period of adjustment, of course ... and our best wishes go to Loree as that adjustment gets underway ... and she goes about the business of unpacking ... and, with good luck, finding things again.
TODAY’S POEM - Mind you, I'm not advocating clutter, even though ... looking around as I write this ... I can see that a stranger might think I'm clutter's chief spokesperson.
I try. Oh, how I try not to clutter up the planet, at least in my immediate vicinity.
In my own defense, I must say that I don't toss litter out the car window ... I don't drop candy wrappers on the sidewalk ... in fact, sometimes, when I'm out walking, I pick up the occasional strayed aluminum can and deposit it in the nearest trash container.
But in my immediate vicinity ... here in the study at Brimm Manor ... there's just some invisible force which seems to be at work ... and I am powerless in its grasp.
Things just seem to pile up ... mostly poems in progress ... little notes I've scribbled along the way ... magazines that I really must read (some day) ... little watercolor sketches ... big watercolor sketches ... drawings ... notes to myself. Things like that.
Some days I seem to make progress ... but other days? Well, then it's like trying to sweep the ocean back with a broom.
But I promise you this (and it's not a political promise) ... I'll keep trying. Meanwhile, the poem (apologies to those who've seen it before):
CLUTTER, GLORIOUS CLUTTER
Someday I shall have room
for everything I possess,
all the room I ever dreamed
of having, room to lean back
casually and survey the vast
reaches of things collected
in years of serious pursuit
and delayed disentanglement.
But the jam-packed reality
of today is that I shift
cautiously among the poems
poised for avalanche, books
teetering on the brink
of revenge for being left
stacked like cold flapjacks
all these busy-busy years,
treasured items gathering
dust, clipped so long ago
from forgotten magazines.
So much of my past, perhaps
my future, too, nudging me
when I turn, bumping me when
I bend, skittering when
we touch, hugging me like
a lover just before the train
pulls out. And I stand here,
loving it all right back.
(originally published in Nanny Fanny Poetry Magazine)
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UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!