Tuesday 07/04/2023
Did the gym machines for the first time in a couple of weeks? and definitely feel it.
Prior to the writers group at 10:45 I wanted to write something. The cue was “My Country” but Connie said, take it where you want to. I kind of felt like maybe a poem? So I started writing a poem that kept getting stranger as it went. It was really a discovery process over half an hour, finding words that fit together and each led to something else. I’ll put it at the end.
Staff marketing person Ofelia had asked if I would host a couple who were interested in CH for lunch, as Ofelia had to leave. OK, sure. So I hustled down to the lobby at 12 and met with Bill and Jane and we shared a table that Ofelia had reserved. Nice people, easy to get along with. Today’s lunch was special; the dining staff was running a BBQ on the patio. You went outside and picked up your choice of foods and brought it into the dining room. The spread looked good, but unfortunately I picked the ribs and they hadn’t been cooked long enough. The meat was done but clung to the bone and was chewy. So I mostly ate cornbread and baked beans.
I piddled away the afternoon and took a short walk and then it was time for a 6th floor picnic. As usual on holidays we picked up sack suppers after lunch. By arrangement those who wanted, met in the floor dining room for a group picnic. There’s going to be another such day on Friday, because the dining room is being used that evening for a (well deserved) staff appreciation dinner. We’ve decided that rather than a sack picnic we’ll order in pizzas that day.
At 7:30 it will be time for the TGIF and fireworks party on the 11th floor. This TGIF is being sponsored by the “23rd floor” — the combined residents of the 2nd and 3rd floors, which have fewer apartments than the other floors. There will be rootbeer floats I am told. After sundown, people will stand on the roof and watch the fireworks from nearby cities. Since we had that very close-by fireworks show from Stanford a couple of nights ago, I’m not sure I will stay up there for that.
Country considered as Brownian Motion
Oh, where is my country?
Surely not where I was birthed?
But then, all birth is random,
juxtaposing genes to mix
and do whate’er the flux
of place and daily happenstance
decree. Country is just context,
jar, enclosure for a stochastic
boil, all reflecting and deflecting,
momentum zero in the end.
Codgerville 