Archive for August, 2012

My nephew got married a few weeks ago in a joyful rumpus of a wedding followed by a mellower brunch the next day. I waited till the last minute to poem-elf the couple, and then I was disappointed I couldn’t get in their locked car to hide poems.  But it worked out.  In the absence of rice, confetti and clattering beer cans, I attached two poems to their car bumper for a quieter but more romantic send-off.



The first poem, Coleridge’s “Answer to a Child’s Question”  captures the giddy joy of the couple, who have known each other since grade school and still seem delighted to be in each other’s presence:


At the risk of love overkill, I love the line,  “I love my Love, and my Love loves me!”  Such a simple sentence, but it trips off the tongue like a jumprope rhyme.


In tribute to the bride and groom’s parents, both long-married, I left Grace Paley’s “Here. ”  I left the poem also as a happy forecast for the newlyweds’  future:


I don’t know if the newlyweds much liked this second poem—they removed it and hid it in my sister’s car before they left.  Ceci’s far being a woman “in the old style”—Paley’s heavy breasts, stout thighs and nicely mapped face—but she does have grandchildren on her lap and a husband she still loves.  Let me say to the newlyweds, in case this second poem didn’t please you:  I can’t wish you any better happiness than this beautiful expression of long-married love.


I  like how the two poems work together:  the first is joyful but controlled and structured, like a wedding, like visions newlyweds have of their married life.   Paley’s poem is as loose as her figure.  It speaks of a love just as vibrant as Coleridge’s but one that’s relaxed and settled in.


I didn’t get a picture of the bride and groom in all their glory, but I did get a picture that will give you a good idea of how fun this celebration was:


Yes, it was a pop the pins out of your updo kind of party.  Whosever bobby pins these are sure didn’t miss them on the dance floor.


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I had dinner the other night with an Englishman who couldn’t grasp the idea of blogging.  How do you make money? he asked me, and when I told him the blog doesn’t pay, he offered several suggestions to spruce up my “business” and start bringing in the big bucks.


There may be no paycheck, but there’s no schedule either.  Perhaps you’ve noticed.  I’ve been on sabbatical from the blog for all of July and now my break time is creeping into August.  I’ve been busy with other types of writing, which I’ve mostly done here, at Jolly’s Cafe in northern Michigan:



If ever there was a clean well-lighted place for writing, Jolly’s is the real deal.  And it’s in Hemingway country to boot.


I’ll be back in a few weeks with an elf-ing, but I wanted to send a public thank-you to the gal in the middle of the picture:



Gracious, efficient, attentive, and somehow a little dreamy and soulful, she made my morning writing sessions a time I looked forward to.  Hemingway would have written a story about her for sure.


So long till mid-August.

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