Words of Mine ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Who is Louise Bogan? Wednesday "I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy." Who is Louise Bogan? Louise Bogan, was a poet. Born in Livermore Falls, Maine in 1897 and died in New York City in 1970. Yea, she's a Maine gal! I have not read any of her poetry but I will have to check her out. You can check out her bio at the site given. She sounds very interesting and I wonder if she suffered from depression, as the bio states she was reclusive and disliked talking about herself. Here is a poem I found by Louise Bogan: Tears in Sleep
All night the cocks crew, under a moon like day, Wow, this is very dark. Okay, on the home front: Michael and I are going to the Don Henley and Trisha Yearwood concert tonight at the fair for � FREE. Yes, I said free. My employer had extra tickets and offered them to the staff and of all the concerts, I chose Don Henley. I am an Eagles fan from waay baack. The only cost involved is the fair entrance fee - $14 and if we eat anything. Life does not get any better than this! 11 a.m. Just back from my walk: I attempt every workday to spend my morning break walking. It's the one time of day I can have some activity and still be cool enough in the day. Although at this hour it is quite warm. For the past week I keep reminding myself to bring my throw-away camera because the California poppies have come back since they mowed the weeds. Everything else is dead and these little flowers pop up � bright green stems and leaves and yellow to orange flowers. But, every day I forget until I see the floral tribute to summer and I smack my forehead for forgetting the camera. The company I work for is a pretty good company. Not only did I get free tickets to a headliner concert at the fair but they served up a barbecue today, hamburgers, cheeseburger and garden burgers, with or without cheese and the usual fixins'. The company does this several times during the year and I have to say it makes a nice break in the day. I'm proud of myself because I didn't overeat. I've gotten to the point my jeans were fitting too tightly and have gone back to my Weight Watchers points and paying attention to what I'm eating. The thing that's hard is getting in all the fruits and vegetables you need to eat. Five servings. You might think, "what�s so hard about that?" For me, it means planning. Yes, I'm an organizer freak but this is not one of the areas I'm organized in. Besides Michael is the cook and I won't ask him to measure out everything for me. I know he'd do it but really, I have to take some responsibility for this. He doesn't twist my arm to eat what he prepares. Although he makes killer burritos, knockwurst dogs, and salad, I can't say no to just one; however, I am doing better. Back to the Spike and Fred story. Both boys were at the door this morning waiting for their morning hugs and breakfast. Neither one was particularly in the mood for hugs but definitely ready for breakfast. Fred must have sensed what I wrote about him yesterday because this morning he chased off his house sister, as though to say, this is my space now with Spike. Little Bit ran off, I'm sure wondering what was up with Fred. Yea Fred, Spike is rubbing off on you and you're getting some attitude. We'll make a biker cat out of Fred yet. 2:26 p.m. - 2002-07-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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