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Ramblings from a Southern liberal, Boomer, single parent, grandmother, reunited birthmother, cancer survivor, pop-culture observer, retired teacher

Most dramatic lymphoma posts are from June 2002 - February 2003 archives.

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The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I cannot go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

--Theodore Roethke


Joy's Updates - Straight from the Horse's Mouth.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008  
Pullet Surprise

That's the way a student spelled Pulitzer Prize on a test I gave, and it's what Bob Dylan won recently. He was awarded an honorary Pulitzer Prize for his contribution to and profound impact on popular music and American culture. All right! Read more about it here. By the way, I won a trivia contest about Ol' Bob. Aren't you proud?

Bob Dylan It seems like a good time to revive my favorite story about my mother since it fits in with this good news. During the summer between his junior and senior years of high school, Brian attended the Governor's School for International Studies at the University of Memphis, of basketball fame. It was a wonderful program free to qualified students that included several schools throughout the state. At this one, Brian learned about Africa and studied Russian from excellent teachers.

When Mother and I took him there, we decided to spend the night and do some sightseeing. We went to Graceland and stayed at the Peabody Hotel where we got to see the famous ducks who live on the roof and come down to swim and play in the fountain every day escorted by a doorman. It's a big production and fun to watch.

The next morning we ate at the coffee shop there in the hotel. While we were getting ready to leave (while I was waiting for Mother to pay for our breakfast - don't start!), I saw this guy walking down the hall to the cafe I thought looked familiar. His hair was curly and unkempt, and he had on faded black slacks, a shiny lavender vest that goes with a suit, no shirt, and scruffy black boots. Yes! It was Bob Dylan! As he passed by me, we made eye contact while I moronically said, "Hi." He muttered something back that was as unintelligible as his acceptance speech that time at the Grammys. I took that as a positive.

When Mother came out, I was excited and told her she wouldn't believe who I just saw - BOB DYLAN! She asked, "Who is Bob Dylan?" Aghast, I explained and exclaimed, "Who is Bob Dylan? Who is Bob Dylan? Only the best songwriter in the 60's! He's a legend" (I stopped short of "voice of a generation" and do know a few limits) Mother sighed with relief and said, "Thank goodness! I was afraid he was someone you knew."

I think I'll call her and let her know he won a Pulitzer.

9:35:00 AM

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