cincinnati homecoming

I'm in Ohio for a quick trip--yesterday I participated in a "Poets' Homecoming" reading at the University of Cincinnati, where I earned my master's and doctoral degrees. I was thrilled and honored to be part of a panel that included my old friend Jim Murphy, and new friends Kristin Naca and Lesley Jenike. Hearing their work, hanging out, and seeing so many wonderful people I don't see very often--well, it's been great.

Another perk has been staying at the Clifton House, an incredible B&B in Cincinnati's gaslight district, not far from campus. Nancy runs a lovely home, and I'm thrilled to be able to rest here for a little while.

I'm back to Springfield today for a little pre-Mother's Day time with my parents, then back to NYC tomorrow for some time with the kiddies.

nesting

The kids and I moved into a new apartment in August, but it's only been the past couple of weeks that I've finally been able to make it feel respectable. It's bigger than the old place (the two-bedroom Bob and I moved into as newlyweds in '96), and was completely redone before we moved in--the walls and floors are immaculate, all the bathroom fixtures and appliances (except the refrigerator) are brand-new, there's actually counter space and cupboard space in the kitchen--and [gasp] a dishwasher.

It was advertised as a three bedroom, but it's technically a two-and-a-half with a formal dining room. There's a little room off of the living room that I'm using as my "study" (yes! a study!). The kids each have their own bedrooms, and I use the front room as my sleeping place. Until last week, I was using our old futon couch as my bed, leaving it down because the frame is too much of a pain to crank into sofa mode. We put the TV in the dining room also doubled as the living room, kids' homework room, etc. The front room has three huge east-facing windows, and I felt bad about hogging the light (the dining room has only two small ones). I wanted to find a way to have the front room really be flexible enough to function as a sitting room.

All that has changed now that I have a sleeper sofa (pictured). It's awesome--a "click-clack" mechanism makes it easy to change back and forth, and there are two storage compartments underneath where I stow the pillows and bedclothes while it's being playing the role of sofa. And the futon, now mostly a sofa, is in the dining room, and the kids no longer have to sit on the floor to watch TV. It's strange how one item can change your way of life.

p.s.: posting more today on the Red Hen blog.

for those new grads and [single] dads?

Thinking about finding a new apartment and some new furnishings (including a replacement for the found-on-the-sidewalk kitchen table with instant removable legs)...I have to admit this little power pop tune gives me a grin.

back in nyc

I made it back a bit ago and decided to jump online before I begin the prospective ordeal that is returning the rental car (in case you haven't heard, I had a minor accident a few weeks ago that resulted in the insurance company declaring the Honda minivan--2001, 160,000 miles--a total loss).

The kids and I had a great time with family and friends in Ohio and PA. The drives were, for the most part, uneventful (I managed somehow to keep the kids from killing each other in the back seat, and Stella only got out of her seatbelt a couple of times). We were much more comfortable than I'd expected due to a surprise upgrade from "full-sized" to "luxury"--they gave us a Dodge Charger, a huge black mobile that my brother David called a "mafia car."

As always, re-entry is a little hard. Fortunately, the touch of flu I picked up at the end of the week has been summarily dispatched by a new miracle drug--Tamiflu--and I feel almost normal, physically.

Perhaps I will head to the gym after the rental gauntlet. And a quiet evening at home before things start up, bright and early, at FIT tomorrow. I hereby resolve to post more frequently, even while the crazy semester is going on.

In the meantime, go to MacGregor's blog for a fantastic Robert Lowell poem.

the tao of yellow springs

Just a few miles south of my parents' house lies the lovely village of Yellow Springs, Ohio. It's sort of like a little oasis of artsiness and liberalism in conservative Southwestern Ohio. I find myself spending a lot of time there when I'm back home. The Antioch Writers' Workshop, Ohio Silver, and Dino's Cappucinos are some highlights. The kids are partial to Mister Fub's Party, an eclectic toy store that has been there at least since I was in college.

Have spent time there with some very good friends, taken yoga classes at a lovely studio on Dayton Street.

And, of course, there is the Local Celebrity, whom the kids and I saw hanging out on a bench the other day.

I think I'll head into the village for a latte now...

what's "hi" in the middle....

So here I am in (uncharacteristically cool, un-humid) Ohio. Had a wonderful family gathering last night--which turned out to be a birthday party for me, my bro John, and my nephew Sammy--who knew? Got to see all of the siblings who are still hanging around near here, and to meet Don, who will be my brother-in-law in May when he marries my youngest sister, Katy. I'm so happy that she has found love again after such a tragic loss, and that she and the boys have a great guy like Don in their lives now. And he is a fabulous cook--Don and Katy whipped up a Mexican fiesta of a feast. I'm glad there is some of that cheese dip left over.

Today my horoscope says, "Embrace your shortcomings by accepting where you are in life, but don't try to change your current attitude by rewriting your history. Write your future instead." Sounds like a plan, if I can manage it. Here's to the future...

"a place of first permission"

--Robert Duncan

For me it is that back yard, that grand half acre, green and groaning with wind and insects, the lying on my back looking at the sky, blue with clouds impossibly high--the blue I ascribe to someone's eyes, someone who once looked at me nakedly [in wonder in admiration in disbelief in... love?]--someone whose eyes turned on me so briefly and are so turned no longer.

"She it is Queen Under The Hill" the mother the other the me
the girl lying on the grass, the cottonwood fluff floating in the still-clear air of late May
the ground beneath with its little bumps and craters
the field beyond opening and opening

Often I, too, am permitted to return to a meadow and to that yard adjacent to the meadow. The two trees gone--or is it just one gone, one remaining? The terrible storms and the chainsaw, the firewood. The former gravel pit greened over and good for sledding.

The cows. The creek. The crawdads in the creek, the sunnies and bluegills and very occasional trout. The full catastrophe of country cliches, the down-home dowsing, the swampiness and black black loamy muck aspark with weeds.

"a disturbance of words within words" and the hollow tree for imagining Alice's rabbit.

The wet legs, the sopping shoes, the mud of it. The cud. The thistles and the flowers on the thistles. Queen Anne's lace and miniature daisies. Escape and bringing a friend and making up friends as you go along the streambanks.

The place of place.