Blog

New blog , view blog, blog blog blog.
Wanting to keep posting but feeling pointless here. I miss my old journal. I did not have any expectations of it.
Trying to get back on track around here but I forgot where the track is. Life is in such limbo. Not sure I like that
much anymore. One day at a time as they say and hope for the best.

Missing poetry

I ve misquito bites on my toes from in the night, I hate that!
Hot days are here and I miss the cool already.
The news of the earth scares me.
I feel alone, in my crowd.
Diet seems to be working quite well.

The Tibetan monk

I have been playing around with a raw diet. Kind of an interesting way to go I suppose, tough when my mother was one of the greatest cooks of all time. But...... I can not cook like her! Albeit I am a good cook just not in her category!!!! Must admit I feel better eating the raw diet almost immediately. I had a head ache that surprised me at for the first two days, from lack of coffee. So I had some, it helped and now I am weaning myself down. I miss the thought of coffee and my morning ritual but other than that not much. Yes it is surprising how well I feel, and  then yesterday was a party for the kids birthday, cake and ice cream, hot dogs etc. I ate lightly but still felt the poison in my system. It is rough to be a large cattle ranchers wife and want to go raw vegetarian with an organic twist. nuf said
It is so beautiful outside I can't settle my mind to the drudgery at hand. I don't feel like much of a wife or mother this morning. More like a dieting artist who wants a boat, and a bike ride. I had a strange dream last night that I was sexual with a tough old cowboy type man who was also a famous rocket engineer and  was dieing of cancer! Whoa.
Well I wonder what advances this week will bring? Hopefully it will bring a completed bank loan, things can be so frustrating for me of little patience or faith. Na  I have tons of faith. That's something I am trying to figure out at the moment,  how to label myself in a religious way. I am not solely an evolutionist, nor am I a covert or a disbeliever, nor am I a believer in any religion that I know of and yet.....I am open to the idea that I do not know. Not only am I open to it, I embrace the fact. I am not meant to know. I have very little education when it comes to religion, a smattering I suppose. So I tend to listen and agree politely. Last week I met a Tibetan monk and have invited him to dinner here at the house, he was completely charming. I am a collector you see. A collector of dinner party guests that are from all walks of life and prove to be interesting to me and my family. Strange habit that I picked up from my parents. Evenings spent with bank robbers and Senators, last summer I had a judge to breakfast who was wonderful. Not to make this sound crude, its more that I believe in being aristocratic.  There has been  murder's to angels at ou table but they were all intelligent, or somehow fascinating to behold. I can remember my father bringing home an old colored man in 1963, who was about eighty years old. It was in the dead of winter and the salvation army was closed for the week end, he was under dressed and going to wait on the sidewalk for some thing to eat for the next three or four days. He was scared. I was a baby child and sat on his lap for three days. When he left he had food, money and warm clothes. There was a man last summer an old character, he was a hoot. His sons and he were traveling with a flat bed truck on which they carried their milking cow!! No lie, they would stop and unload her let her graze, and milk her twice a day. That way they always had sustenance to eat and or sell. He took himself very seriously in a fun way. Ah me in my half Gypsy half Irish and half cultured ways...)) I feel that it is living life in a full and growing way rather than being so ridged as most people are. And yet I too play it safe. There are many I would not care to dine with.
For now the dish's beds floors and breakfasts await!

coming up out of it

I think that some thing about my depression has to do with my gaining weight. That I feel un worthy of a friend ship.No that I feel more than worthy but I feel cheated by the friends that I have. I just want some one to meet me half way in this. I have to move beyond it. I need to exercise.I need to find a cardio workout that involves others that I love. So...... I am going to be o.k.. On my own terms. I have my gratitude also. I have a good life.
I feel myself coming up out of this and I am sorry for anyone who reads the preceding blog of mine but it is part of the process. I have always written myself out of a bad spot. What else are you suppose to do when you don't have any one to talk to.I need a work out.
for now

lonely as she is

I am the loneliest person I know and yet perhaps we are all that lonely. For in the midst of a crowd I stand without a connection to sustain me and I wonder does anyone have a connection? Are we all lonely? Are you? How is it that I am the one who feels so lost. I am glad no one reads this blog because it enables me to be more honest. I am lost. I am depressed.Why. Fucking why. What is wrong with me. How do I change this. Is something wrong that I may never fix?? Why am I so sad. How do I help myself. I have tryed to help everyone else tirelessly. It seems to have made no difference, for them or for myself. I watch the Mcleods daughters, the woman are such sisters to one another and I feel so lonely again. My father and my brother are the only ones in my life that I have ever had a connection with, or I should say that has had a connection with me. I have always wanted to make a special connection with someone. But I give with chips of gold and no one else is giving. Fern, I have been her friend for years but she has a life of her own far away and is only causally interested. Connie, I have always loved and taken time for, every summer going to see her for a week in another town, working to make sure she knows she is my best friend. In thirty years she has stopped by once while passing through, she has never called me, not even one time. Kristy, I loved Kristy to pieces, she was my heart and I was completely loyal, as I am to all my friends, 100% guaranteed, in five years she stopped by once to borrow some money, never once called me. I could go on but it is  pointless. I guess the point is that I still have my first friend and yet I have been hurt and betrayed by every women I have ever taken to my bosom, except my mother. Karen Hooper hurt me the worst of any human being ever. I have had many lovers and have hurt and been hurt, but every one of them with out fail has ended up friends.Men seem to know and to trust where I come from but women seem to hate that part of me? I am so good. How strange this is to say out loud. It is true. I have never done some thing that I am ashamed of or feel guilty for. From the time I was a child I have always been fair. I could not stand to hurt some ones feelings. And yet I have a terrible temper, I am not so good that I do not have my failings.In my own defense it takes tons to make me lose it. Mostly I lose it if you hurt someone else I love. Or if I feel afraid. I am trying to write my way out of this. I wish I could find some one like me. I wish Andy was more like my Father. I wish he knew I existed. He is a good husband and a great dad , but ....... He knows nothing about me. And when I try to show him something I think is important, he brush's it off and makes out that it is not important in the grand scam of things. claims he does not have time to talk to me. He had made this a reality for twelve years. I love him, he is a great man in so many ways, and in his defense all the men in his family are this way. None of them are close to their wife's. In fact quite the opposite. No romance. No smoke and magic. That is what my father has, smoke and magic. The most important thing in his life was my mother. I am not truly important to anyone who can be a companion to me.  I am not sure this will read with the heart feltness with which it was written , nor am I sure that any thing but self pity will come across but I am writing it as sort of a purge. Some one to talk to, some way of getting it out of my system. Will keep on working on this.

Digging in to diet diet diet diet

Woke up this morning with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt. (Its an Engebretson thing.)
I had a head ache from not drinking enough water.
I am trying to get back on track diet wise this a.m..
Why do I feel so lost there? Lost in general this morning.
I am not finding much encouragement out here in this old blog world. I think some how I felt like
there would be friends of a sort.Kind of a virtual world of support.I try to be that for a few that I read, but maybe I have it all wrong and should back off. They might think I am some strange creep off the Internet.
I am trying to evolve my lifestyle so that we are about exercise more and food less?  Better kind of food, more than just less of it.
I do not eat a lot, but when I make a trip to town, I blow it. It is hard to be hungry and go to town with or with out the kids and try to eat in the restaurants and not over eat or eat the wrong kind of foods.I started dieting in January and I did real well for a couple months, say three months and then I hit a wall of some sort and nothing was moving, I hung out there for a while, too long, then it started tipping in the other direction slowly until it had a sudden slide and I have gained back the fifteen pounds that I had lost. So here I go again starting over on the same pounds. Discouraging. I eat lite, organic, but I have area's where I blow it. I exercise at least three hours a week and lead a active lifestyle.Or so it seems its just not enough. so................

Campus Martius

Campus Martius wrote that he was a better writer when the shit was hitting the fan. More interesting to read at any rate and  now that life was good and settled, he was a boring blogger. I wrote my way through fifteen years of agony. I crawled in the belly of the beast. I drown in it. I lived it. Wore it. Fought it and rolled over for it. Was it more interesting? Yes. Do I miss it? Yes and no. I always said I didn't write my poems, they wrote me. They did and its true that they did. I became a third person. I could distance myself from the pain and the game. I slowly came to realise that what I believed was the foundation of life, was instead,the bane of existence. That all I had once held as reverently so, was not at all so with one small exception. Me. Then slowly I chose to realise, you create your own reality. I set about doing just that. It has become a work in progress. Delightfully so. Other wise it would be boring. I am never bored so how can I be boring? Trust me I can be boring. At least my writing can in the same way that C. M. talks about. It is the fight that is interesting. The struggle. The rapids of the river compared to the slow deep water. The storm. And the fiercer it rages the more interesting it is. To a certain point and then the human struggle becomes pointless. Once you pass the  no return sign, your redundancy and your inability to grow and change, should have and has not ,become self evident and it then becomes boring and completely self destructive. What I was not expecting was how similar our struggles were. That we all fall over the same feet. Love, family, perceived wounds, money, you know the same old tired bull shit. Humans. Some of us write our way through it, others counsel, some find religion.All of us believe we have found the truth, the one true way to look at it.The only one that makes any sense. I find myself saying things like I wish I could see it like they do, it sure would make things easier.  But since two plus two is four I can't buy into that bullshit. I never seem to say what it is exactly that I do believe, just that is different from what every one else believes. Is it so different? We are after all children of our environment. I do believe that I am different. I would venture to say I know this. When I break this down I am surprised to find myself looking for common ground to justify and make my self seem normal. In other words I am only different in a good way. Or I am a normal person that some bad things happened to and I handled them all the right way. What a crock. Why put up that fence. As if being human was not  varied enough to cover the ground that I have covered. Or as if I had some thing to be ashamed of, that god forbid might make me different. Nothing human is foreign to me. We are so similar in our differences. I watch movies and find myself feeling angry because they have the stereotypical conformity down pat. I didn't grow up in a house like that, with clothes and school and parents like that. So does that mean you , you being "the general public", does that mean you can't read me, or comprehend or appreciate what I am trying to say. Because we have no common ground? I have found this to be seemingly the case when it came to my poetry. I always got a reaction, which was good, but not always a good reaction. I can remember my ex's boss who I personally would never have read my poetry to, saying to the room smugly "Oh Kelly we had no idea you were so dark!"
Suddenly I was no longer one of them. Thank God!  Well Campus Martius so much for the rant, thanks for the inspiration.

Tequiero

Ta-care-oh, tequiero, I love you. nice. I like the way it sounds. Quercia is that the other one I was reading. I do not have the book here or I would look it up? humm. That is not it.

Today we must vote for a new sheriff. Then I am off to the big city. Ya right.
So much to do and not with it at all. It feels like my mind and my body were two different places. They are. I at least started back on my diet yesterday. I have gained fifteen pounds. SOB Any who I am back at it and hoping to do better. Had to back forty cup cakes last night for the kids school today, shit! I am not a baker, and not to much of a sweet eater anymore. I prefer me own homemade salsa.
Need to take my cell phone back and trade it in. Boring shit this a.m. I did exercise tough yesterday and will go for a bike ride tonight. ( I hope) well I am off.
I write for me anyway so must remember that.But I find I long for contact from somebody other than the people I make come here and read this. Where are you world, am I that boring? Come on give us a toss.
Blessed we all are and that is not a religious statement from me

My brothers keeper, a poem

Sticky Vicky never made detox.

o.k. just one poem

MY BROTHERS KEEPER

My brother, home for a few days with that gypsy.Dope sick, distracted, agitated and dying. It was then I realized for the first time that my brother had not come home at all, instead death had come. Oily and obsequiously evil, its shadow lingering all around the edges till I wondered if everyone saw it. Death played and caressed their ugliness triumphantly. I shrank from their presence, aware of a strong fear inside of myself. Not only was life itself being thrown away but also the opportunity to die.I found myself being fiercely proud and protective of my ability to bring dignity and grace to my own finial farewell. A feeling of knowing acceptance pervaded my space and spread through me. Warming my heart and my buffalo. While death played over the sugar cubes in the bowl on the checkered cloth and my brothers words droned into empty nothingness. I am no longer my brothers keeper. His soul is now chaperoned by an order far more powerful. His dark riders are gathering. I feel the Indian blood in a  pinto pony where the shadows plunge in the grasses and the sage is of the earth and timeless.

needing name help

I am searching for a name.  Wanting to name the house, the place, this plot of land where I may die? El Milagros. The miracle? Wanting something to do with sky. I ran across a good one in J frank Dobeys the mustangs earlier today but can't remember how to spell it? Any suggestions. I think it may be to hard to pronounce.later date..............

water

Rain lots of it,good for the crops. Personally I am quite pleased with it, we were so dry  and i don't care much for dry. I love a freaken desert don't get me wrong .Just not here where I grew up wading through brook trout laden creeks and froggy filled swamps. Chasing dragon flys and skating through the trees where the ice flows changed the landscapes in the winter. Water, creeks, rivers  and ponds. Swamps, springs, waterfalls. And all of it teaming with wild life. As a ten year old girl my mother would say I 'll start frying spuds you go catch dinner, and I would! Including wild onions and if I was lucky a mushroom or ten, at least a puff ball. And I 'd be back with enough trout to feed a family of seven fish eaters, before the spuds were overcooked. Kept the pole on the porch and I had a piece of goat hide I used for bait a lot. It had dried on to the hook and the fish couldn't strip it. A grass hopper or a worm was prime too, and what we called a Colorado spinner. As fast as my hook hit the water we would have fish. Funny thing  I haven't caught a fish in twenty years. I lived for it then. But I have found I am not much of a fishermen. I was spoiled, I don't like it if I am not catching fish. Now days I have a hard time seeing the line and the knots any way. But water... I am of water. Just a day or two down from viking ancestry so they say. Give me a sea spray any day. Rain hell ya. I am a lousy swimmer.  But I still swim every summer, in any creek  I  get a chance at, in Montana. You didn't make camp with out water. Hardly ever. Even the snow held the promise of water. A storm cloud or a  pregnant women.

Sticky Vicky and the detox center.

Talked with Nate, Vickie is suppose to go in to detox at noon today, god bless her, hope she makes it. She is pretty close to either dieing or an institution. I am sorry to say I do not think she will make it. Harsh I know but she is so bad. I wish it wasn't so. Nate is on the fence.
 Little sticky Vicky,if I could write a poem of your wonder and your wander no one would believe it. I have never known any one like you. No one more betrayed, hurt, lost or given away. No one with as big a heart.You have given your all so long ago and the fact that you still have more to give on a daily basis amazes me. Gimpy crocus . I have known your love, steady and true as a flame. I who would fight for the honor you never had, quicker by far than for my own. Nothing human is foreign to me. In so many ways because of you I have earned the right to say that. Painted bird out side my window which way will the wind blow you today.
I have known the gypsies sense they came in their wagons when I was a child and camped under the stars. But you are the only one I have truly known. In knowing you I have little respect for the modern gypsies of today. My own Great Grandfather was an Irish tinker. As tough as a little walnut knot. Horse's were his life, and campfires and stars. Never slept inside. Passing down his wild wood ways, his outlaw ism. But love was as strong or stronger than any of the rest of it. Loyal and kind. Mischievous and magical the wizened old man who lost his eye and raised his grandson full of smoke and magic. Mis leadee enikee tuddys me truls. I remember.My tiny little grandmother, kelly indeed, with her round brown eyes and her gifts of sight, stolen away by a drunken Norwegian Viking in the night.
Yes Vicky I will always have a soft spot for you to fall too, you are my sister, in reverent horror I will silently accept your fate. Knowing some are beyond the  pale. Blessing's on you child of fortune, shine as you will while there is still time.

living just behind normal

Lost in a lost world. I stand a stranger too.
Seeing through eyes dry as bone.
Your children's children.Tis my soul that blames, not me.
 No I know better then to disrupt this harmony.
 Normal is it?  Aahh indeed.
What you seek and see you've found.
Falsely cherish such neutral ground.
You walk away as if you could. As if  alone, you've always stood.
 So the  clothes you wear will make this a better day.
 Hiding damaged goods that passed this way.
His family, now that's what counts. Selling phony by the ounce.
You've been here and you've been there. And every one so proud.
Just the sacrifices that you've made,
 after all for crying out loud.
Then  I a stranger, see, in my garden with my tea,
passing  judgement on you and he, oh so randomly.
Yes, yes mark me.
 You will never run so fast that you can out run your past.
 The secret  is to embrace what you are and what you've been.
To meet your maker with a grin.
Yes yes I know,
someone else to blame
 for the sins
that are not your own.

publishing bla's

Living large. Very cool is Jan Lim came in third place in a mt. bike jamboree, third place for women something like two hundred and sixty sixth over all. Still very good. I am off to exercise, starting to feel a little better today. Can't wait to dig in and work out hard. We took the kids, Andy and I last night and went for a bike ride, they did not do to well? So we must ride every day we can, from now on. No snow must go.
I am wanting to publish my book. I have not written any thing new lately have been way to busy for that, but publishing my book of poems is turning into a night mare???? Who wants to publish poetry, no one it seems. I have a handful of writer acquaintances and I have talked to them, they have books on hold because no one is wanting to publish poetry. But if I put anything on the Internet it becomes basically un -publishable! I have not sent my poems to anyone and I should do that, just don't know who to send them to. No one has any advice. I have seen a number of self published mistakes and I am not ready for that. I would like to publish mostly for my father, and I am feeling pressured because of his age. I must get my ass in in gear.
For now I am out of time, must go work out. Kudos to Jane.