Er, Hi?

This is the knee which has been swelling on and off for almost a year now.

Yes, the edge of my sleep shirt says:  Sleeps with dogs.

I think it covers all the possibilities, if I ever think about lying down with two or four-footed animals again. Hmm, it's gonna be awhile, folks.

See previous posts on sucking at this whole blogging thing.

Sigh.

Well, a lot has happened since I last logged on here.

Since April of 2014, I have been separated from the SO who was less than supportive of my creative process, both the photography and the writing.

I survived another winter with SADS. Barely. There were some weekends where the only time I left the bed was to pee, eat or plug my phone in. Sometimes I only ate once a day.

I read a lot of crap on my Kindle, my Nook for iPhone. Total escapism reading. Will not be divulging the utter crap titles.

I impersonated an ostrich a lot, with my head in the proverbial sand, not thinking about the upcoming divorce.

Cried only a bit.

Lost custody of the spotted dog.

Running/exercised occasionally. Knee swelled a lot. Finally got an Rx for physical therapy. PT does not think it's a meniscus tear. Just the tracking of my patella.  Lots of strengthening exercises later, my patella still is too wonky medially & laterally. But it's better. And I have an ex-triathelete's brain to pick about getting my running gait less like Grover's (he taught me everything he knew, which is why I ended up in PT ;)

Gotta get to Freddy to talk to my phone carrier about running out of data prematurely.  And kill some Zombies so I'll be prepared for the Zombie Apocalypse.

Hopefully, I'll be back before 2016, Zombies notwithstanding.

Oh, I almost forgot!  I had a poem published in the 2015 edition of The Gunpowder Review. I'm actually attending the reading in Bel Air, MD on June 14 at the Barnes & Noble there. Starts at 2, if anyone is interested. Here's the Lulu link:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/vonnie-winslow-crist/the-gunpowder-review-2015/paperback/product-22119908.html

Feeling a little strange now

I've been at my Mom's for about a week and a half now.  None of us felt good about leaving her cabin in the "holler" unoccupied so soon after her obituary stated where all her children lived, ranging from 1.5 hours to the entire continent away.  Plus there's some other issues with her estate I won't go into here. 

I keep thinking that she'll come around the corner from her bedroom and give me hell for spreading all my crap out over the majority of the horizontal areas of the living room.  I tend to do that when I'm stressed.  Or mad.  Or sad.  Or all frelling three.

I slept on the couch for 3 nights, finally going upstairs to suffer through a bout of insomnia last night almost as bad as the night she died.  Won't go into that here.

Her memorial service was focused on her, her faith and her life -- though some thought her pastor mentioned her choir and Sunday School class so often that it came across like a commercial for them.  They were a big part of her life, as was her writing group, which I crashed yesterday.  It was a dual purpose visit, returning some things they had left with her -- though I forgot to ask about a strange pyrex dish which showed up in her kitchen -- and getting two of my poems critiqued.*

I have watched a lot of mindless Law & Order SVU reruns and some Netflix online -- might as well enjoy the cable TV and internet while I'm here, no?  And I've done some other professional things, like fulfilling the ethics requirements for my Va CMT renewal.  And finally getting all the poems from the workshop I took in SF revised to the point where I'm comfortable sending them out to the other participants.  Twice, because I forgot to put my name on them before I sent them out the first time.

I can't seem to focus for long periods of time.  Grief, I believe.  I did so much grieving for both my Weim and my Mom, before she actually died, that I feel pretty numb at the moment.  That's normal too.  Gotta go, as my blogging time is up.

 * I have found that very few writing groups know what to do with the rough drafts of poems presented for constructive criticism, so I've about stopped attending meetings.

Holy Crap, Batman!

Well, I did edit my initial response when I found this blog post after Googling myself day before yesterday.  But still, HOLY CRAP!


http://vickyloras.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/my-post-for-marisa-constantinidess-blog-challenge-a-disabled-access-friendly-world-lessons-for-the-elt-classroom/

A lesson plan for one of my poems?!?  I'm being taught in high school?  (OK, somewhere, perhaps, maybe?)  Now I feel like a real author.  You know, like being taught in school is validating.  (No sarcasm meant at all.)  By reading the Vicky's Blog post, I learned that December 3^rd is International Disability Day.  

Several of my poems have been accepted & published by Wordgathering.*  It is the online journal of disability poetry and essays edited by members of the Inglis House Poetry Workshop in Philadelphia, Pa.  I'm currently at the tail end of re-editing the chapbook which most of those poems were written toward, in yet another of Robert Lee Brewer's PAD** challenges.  But more on that later, as in another blog post.

I still have trouble believing that one of my little, off-the-cuff poems from one of RLB's Wednesday prompts has a lesson plan.  And this poem is pretty much transcribed as I wrote it in my poetry notebook, in December of 2009.   I was on a roll coming off of another intense 30 days of poetry. 

Makes me feel like someone needs to poke me to deflate my ego.   And no, you can't volunteer, David.  No one would see you take me down anyway, Ninja-boy.***


Dreams

My  
dreams
consist of
climbing stairs,
one by one, feeling
muscles clench and relax
at the direction of nerves driven
by my will to ascend up and up, away
from the darkness of waking, immobile, in
                                                my hospital bed.


*Dreams appeared in the December 2010 issue.  Zwolf was in the June 2011 issue as the 3rd place winner (for authors without disabilities) of their annual poetry contest.  Birth Pains was published in the December 2011 issue. 

** Both RLB's Poem-A-Day April Challenge and the November Chapbook Challenge turn 5 this year.  He also posts a weekly prompt for rabid poets on Wednesdays the rest of the year. 

*** We once clothes-lined each other, at the same time, in the middle of a karate class and NO ONE NOTICED!