No poetry night

I went downtown to the -bar this evening because there was supposed to be an open mic poetry reading. A couple times I have made mistakes, gone on the wrong Sunday. People kept telling me it was the second Sunday night of every month.

Well, this time I had the right night and nobody showed up. I asked Pam at the bar about it, she checked a couple calendars and said no one had booked it.

So I had some Concha Y Toro and wrote a few verses instead.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gifts

Take my heart away
with you,
Make love to it
until I see you again.

The gifts from your eyes
soaking into my chest.
Let me keep them.

Until three weeks
with bending to kiss
I burst salt love
inside you.


~~~~~~~~~~~

Later in the evening I was flattered to have a young man ask me to play pool with him. Skinny whiskered blond with an edgy look to him. Can't remember his name, but I've seen him there on Sunday nights before. Even though I'm abominable at pool, I won both games because he scratched while shooting for the 8 ball.

Then Chris, who I have met a couple times, also young but somewhat freakish, kept talking at me. Eventually I played a couple games of chess with him. Again, I beat him easily. I'm not very good at chess, but play aggressively enough to intimidate a weak player.

None of my friends showed up for Pride night. Everybody complains because Guelph doesn't have a gay bar, but one bar tries to have a gay night and nobody supports it.

After Chris left, I had a chocolate martini, then came home.

It had to be done

I'm going to take some advice I read in trapezebear's journal recently: "Never complain, never explain."

Today with regret I trimmed my friends list from 103 to 78 and dropped my subscriptions to several communities. The alternative was taking a holiday from LJ. Whether or not I have removed you, you are welcome to continue reading or remove me as you wish.

I have also written a new bio.

Mom

I didn't see Mom yesterday, but here she is opening a birthday card in about 1978, when she was 45.





We talked on the phone yesterday morning. Our relationship seems to be improving after some difficult years. I sent her a yellow hibiscus and it was delivered Saturday morning. I was glad to hear the florist had my first choice of colours. Mom's favourite colours have always been yellow and orange. It came wrapped in yellow paper with an orange bow.

I would like to share some more old photos of Mom. Donna was born on April 15, 1933.

( +9 )

In May 2002 Dad spotted a discolouration on Mom's breast and in June she was diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer. My sister-in-law Debbie and Aunt Carol did extensive internet research and discovered a radical drug treatment which had only recently been approved for use in Canada. Mom's oncologist agreed to try it. It was a tough step for my mother, who had never been seriously ill in her life, had not been in hospital since I was born, and initially said she didn't want any treatment at all. She had just started taking chemo in August when this picture was taken with me and the girls.





Mom was warned early that this kind of breast cancer had a high risk of mortality. But thanks to Dad spotting it early and Deb and Carol's sleuth work the cancer was brought under control and Mom had a single mastectomy last spring. A biopsy showed some cancer cells still in the breast, so the specialist recommended several months of radiation treatment. Mom refused. She did not want to spend another summer feeling sick.

This spring, a year after her final chemo treatment, tests showed Mom is cancer-free.