Sunday, March 22, 2009


My morning coffee
is a moment in time.
The forward momentum of my being
suspended, hanging in space
when the aroma is born.
Sharp, pungent, scent wafts on
invisible currents of air
caressing my senses
My nostrils quiver
my eyes close
as I inhale
and my tongue reaches
anticipating and savoring
that first sip.
Hot and milky
liquid held in my mouth,
swallowed slowly...
I want to immerse myself inthe experience;
to hear and taste, touch and smell and
the pleasure of the cup.

Sherry 2001

Sunday, March 15, 2009

More creativity

I took a class last Sunday down at The Bead Factory in Tacoma. It was called "The Art of the Rosary." I am new to beading, and do not want or need another hobby that will cause me to collect more stuff. However, I enjoy praying the rosary as meditation and to feel spiritually connected to what is so much larger than a mere human, so I thought I would enjoy learning to make one. I did make one, using small pink beads shaped somewhat like shells. Since then I made another rosary, using oval glass turquoise-colored beads. Or maybe they are peacock blue. I'm not sure. I'm improving on my loops, but still am not confident. If you could see how often I am putting pieces back together, you would understand. I think I have a photo of the first one to show you.

Pictures of my book

It turned out to be really fun!

Cassie invited me to go with her yesterday to a bookmaking class. No, this was not a class on how to place bets. This class was how to make a small book, suitable for a journal. I had a wonderful time after everyone finished "helping" me. I asked Cassie if I looked like such a complete dolt that everyone had to do everything for me, but she said I just looked confused. The instructor would tell us what to do next, then tell us 4 more ways we could do it, or her assistant would tell us how she does it...yes, I WAS confused! The book ended up being a trifold, with several pages. We used calendar pages, the big, pretty oens, as design for the covers. Once the book was constructed, I had more fun adding the bling. Last night I printed out a copy of one of my favorite poems: Big Wind, by Theodore Roethke. It is the story of a greenhouse weathering a storm as a ship weathers a gale at sea. Since the poem refers to roses a couple of times, it seemed ideal to include in my book. I'll post pictures. So I cut apart the stanzas and pasted them into the pages of my book. It would make a nice gift if I knew anyone who enjoys poetry as much as I do.

I'm proud of my finished product, and totally enjoyed the creative opportunity. Thank you, Cassie!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

An Unremarkable Life

Many people work hard all their lives just to stay "even." They live unremarkable lives. They are not heroes or public figures or sports stars. They go about the business of daily living, doing their best to follow the rules and to be good people. They are kind to others in trouble, send money to help out when communities are in flood or drought conditions. They are basically honest people, but may not always return the extra change. They do what they are told, hold doctors in high esteem, and do not tell teachers or police officers, "I pay your salary!"

I think I fit in this category. So do my neighbors on each side of my house. We are what Regan called "The Silent Majority." We trust the political figures who make decisions that affect us. When our taxes go up, we accept it. When the prices of groceries and gasoline go up, we accept it, and only complain to the others who also are "us." Most of us will never achieve Andy Warhol's prediction of "Fifteen minutes of fame." We simply are who we are. We live out the legacy left to us by the unremarkable people who were our parents and grandparents.

Thursday, March 5, 2009


I have been single for about 10 years; sometimes I get lonely.
Face flushing, blood rushing
In my imagination
Wait, hope it will come.