Unit Ten

To quote Jim Morrison ( of the Doors, for those of you too young to remember) "this is the end, my only friend, the end...".
Only the end of this term.
It's truly wonderful, and a little scary, too, how each end is really a new beginning. Another opportunity.
 Another group of people with whom to interact, another chance to be a friend.
 At my age, I've come to appreciate any and all new chances to get it right.
The holidays are upon us and soon the Winter Solstice will be here, signalling the return of the Light. Days will start to get longer. My (ex) husband will be that much closer to lifting the burden of Seasonal Affected Disorder and putting it away until next winter.
I know it is time to give gifts to others. However, I was moved to buy an Amaryllis for my own enjoyment. I put it in my bedroom window and am anticipating the long, elegant stem and the brilliant scarlet of the bloom. It will grow right into my room, right at the head of my bed, following the shaft of sunlight that illuminates my day. Every morning it will signal the splendor and beauty that is inherent in the return of spring.
Another opportunity. Another chance to get it right. I feel the bloom of hope and wonder in my heart just imagining my Amaryllis. Be of good cheer, everyone! Let love carry the season. Happy holidays.

Unit nine

Whenever I see the word "nine", it takes me back to the old hippie days, and the Beatles. One of their songs had a refrain that repeated "number nine, number nine" over and over. Why does this stick out in my memory?
 Who knows?!
When I remember the old hippie days, though, I'm back in Cali, on Venice Beach. That was my home for a chunk of time. I'm watching those early morning waves that roll in to kiss the sand, everything so golden in the early morning sunlight. The light of the sun strikes facets in the waves, like diamonds and I feel incredibly lucky, or blessed, to be a witness to that transformation.
 I wonder if I, too, am golden or diamond in the magick of the morning.
 Only the sea-birds are there with me and they aren't telling.
This memory warms me this chilly, damp November morning. This is November the way it's supposed to be and I am loving it. Time to get on with my papers; I have TWO long papers that must be submitted before mid-night on Tuesday.
Yikes!!
 This is no time for introspection.
 It's Show Time, folks.

Unit Eight

Here I am in unit eight, wondering how I ever referred to myself as a writer!! My first draft is a disaster; I see some of the errors, especially the technical ones. Some of the other errors I just haven't figured out yet.
I will prevail, though. I am a writer. 
 I have to learn to be a technical writer. Thanks to all my classmates and to my professor for helping me in this journey.
Writing poetry is a whole lot easier! My poetry writes ME; I'm merely the conduit for the words to appear on paper. Some of the poetry is, well, I won't get into that! Some of the poetry is very well received, thank you very much. Some has even made its way into print. The first time I ever read my stuff, I did it in a venue that often has poetry slams and I am NOT a slam writer. I hadn't performed for years and was not ready. Other people were practicing, reciting their work from memory; I don't remember my work once it leaves my hand. So, I tried to quickly review my work and commit it to memory.
 They called me up first.
What a fiasco!!
I stumbled and bumbled my way through the first couple of sentences. Some kind person called out "just read it." I pulled out my paper to read it and realized that I couldn't SEE the words without my glasses! The music started playing. You know- the "get off the stage" music. I yelled out "stop playing that music! I'm gonna DO THIS!" And, I got through it.
 The next time I read, some months later, I got a standing ovation. One woman was in tears. THAT'S the kind of writing I can do!
 So, I will get the hang of this technical writing.
I promise.

Unit Seven

Wow. Time is speeding by. It's almost Turkey time and that's really going to be a challenge for me.
 I have discovered that my body really only wants raw food.
I know, some people are thinking "raw turkey? Eeewww!" Well, no, folks.
I don't eat meat.
 The raw food I eat is simply delicious and is totally live, which means that my body gets the benefit of all the enzymes.
 I read one raw foodists' account of  a time when he questioned if the food he was eating was really "live". So, he took a few of the flax crackers he had recently dehydrated and planted them. Within a short amount of time, he had flax plants blooming in his kitchen. That's pretty amazing to me.
The migraines I suffered with almost all of the summer of 2009 are gone. Haven't had one since going raw. Give thanks! And still, there are people who look at me as if I had two heads when I decline cooked foods. Its as if it is subversive in some way. Well, this is STILL America no matter who is now in the majority in the House or the Senate, and I can eat as subversively as I wish, as long as I don't inflict my choice on anyone else.
 And, when a lot of the folks who snicker at my diet are laughing behind their arthritis-twisted hands, I'll be skipping all the way to the local farmer's market and back, spry and nimble as any thirty-year-old.
Going now to have a slice of raw strawberry cheezecake. Yum!!!