Meanderings on writing, reading, walking, bicycling, and life
Author: thedamari
I live in Missouri, a more beautiful place than many realize. I love writing, reading, walking, bicycling, and making lists. I’ve written poetry since I was seven. A few years ago I branched out into short fiction and memoir pieces. I also perpetually have a novel in progress. My brain pursues ideas at a brisk pace, wandering all over the map. This blog represents one of my efforts to keep up with it.
My son is at it again. He released his game, Happenlance for PC a couple of years ago. I’m happy to report he’s working on a paying contract for someone else right now, and has also adapted his own game for Nintendo Switch, with updates and new features. I’m especially proud because I watched as he went through all of the steps to be approved by Nintendo, which is not easy, it turns out.
I took a short walk around the neighborhood this morning before it got too hot. A number of rabbits were out tending to breakfast, as were many squirrels. Neither animal wants a human to get too close, but they behave in very different ways.
Rabbits tend to freeze in place. Squirrels, on the other hand, turn into frenzied random gymnastics generators in their efforts to escape. Maybe if I run this way! No, wait, turn around! Climb that! No wait, jump to the other thing. Don’t we all know people who act like one or the other?
I’m a rabbit. I can see the thought bubble above this bunny’s head: If I hold completely still and blend into the background maybe the human won’t see me and will leave me alone.
I feel you, little critter. I have been known to do the same thing. “She’s a shy one,” my mother would explain, as I once again hid behind her legs when and adult tried to interact. I don’t dislike other people, just feel overwhelmed by personal interactions sometimes. I guess I need to keep in mind that when people are acting out–like a squirrel–they might have the same feeling but express it differently.
Anyway, it was a pleasant and quiet outing with no human interaction on my part.
32 years ago, I was floundering for a career/life path. After a great deal of self-assessment, I came to an important insight. The public library helped raise me.
Sorry I was gone from blogging for so long. I was busy building a better working world and chasing my dreams. My workplace unionized in May, 2022. Bargaining of our first contract began in October of that year and didn’t conclude until 14 months later, this past December.
Almost to my own surprise, I ended up on the bargaining team. When you’re negotiating a first contract from scratch, that’s the equivalent of working a second job. And I already had a second job! In addition to the at-the-table negotiations, several hours every week were devoted to research and meetings and collaboration on the crafting of articles. All of this part was done outside of paid work time.
But I’m happy to report that our collective bargaining agreement, which took effect January 1, has made life a bunch better in many ways — money, safety, and fairness, among them. For the first time in decades, I’m earning a living wage. I have even been able to quit the side hustle I was working to make ends meet. Wowza! I went from the equivalent of three jobs to one.
But the dream I referenced in my heading isn’t about becoming a union thug. (Ha, ha. I’m one of the least intimidating people you’ll ever meet.) This achievement is a whole other thing, and I’ll drop a hint with some photos.
A representative sample of some of the textbooks I read. Yes, the book in the left corner is relevant to library work – very. much so. I burned through a few highlighters.
Those who have been following me for a while might remember this post from late 2019, in which I shared details of my long journey finishing up my bachelor’s studies through self-directed learning. In one paragraph, I shared my ultimate goal:
“When my youngest was in kindergarten, I got a shelving job at the public library. Things were falling into place. This was the first step toward my new career. I would have an advantage when I got to library school, after finishing my four-year degree.“
Of course, it didn’t quite work out like that, and I had to create my own unique educational path. Once I finished my undergrad at “Nomadic Noesis University,” I had a new plan. I’d promised to help my oldest kid with his move from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest, scheduled for the end of March, 2020. I began studying for the GRE, with the idea I would take the test after fulfilling those obligations to Firstborn. I knew it was a longish shot, but I hoped if I managed a stellar GRE score, I could present that along with my bachelor’s transcript when applying to library school and maybe have at least a prayer of a chance for admittance.
I sincerely apologize to the world’s population for jinxing everything and causing a global pandemic with my “plans.” GRE testing sites became an un-thing pretty quickly. Due to my age, my window for action had shrunk significantly. I realized my dream was over. Or was it?
Hadn’t I just finished homeschooling myself through the final part of an undergrad by finding online syllabi? After a brief period of moping, I put on my big girl britches and decided to do the same for my MLIS.
Here I am, four and 1/2 years on from my last graduation to announce that I did it. I am finished. 32 years ago, I was floundering for a career/life path. After a great deal of self-assessment, I came to an important insight. The public library helped raise me. It was my safe space where I learned essential lessons about the world. I am deeply in love with literature and equally so research. I believe in empowering people and leveling the playing field. What better fits these core principles than library work? I knew my calling.
I followed a long, uphill, circuitous path to get here, but I made it. I lack the symbols — the institution-bestowed degree and the official job title of “librarian.” But I have the real things – the librarian education and the librarian work as an outreach associate (official job title.) I’m even earning a living wage doing it.
Hey, look! I’m back. Soon, I’ll post about what has consumed my time the past several months, but today I want to show everyone some more little art around my neighborhood. I live in such a creative community, I find new pieces around the area all the time in my perambulations.
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This is very near my house. The display changes occasionally.
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Purple iris are in the running for my favorite flower, maybe because my mother loved them. Naturally, I like this stepping stone.
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If you must have a pipe sticking up in your yard, might as well turn it into art.
Get outside for a while if you can. It’s a good place to be.
I achieved my bicycling goal of making it all the way to the nearly 400-year-old bur oak, the one my husband visits every weekend. That’s about a 22-mile round trip. I’ve been working on building my cycling stamina, riding a little farther each outing. Today, I just kept going until I was there. The hubs was kind enough to slow his pace so I could keep up. Then I left for home earlier than he did.
I will admit the last three to four miles of the return trip were a struggle. I imagined myself the subject of one of those old times folk ballads about a person on an arduous journey who makes it through all sorts of hazards, only to drop dead within sight of their destination. But instead, I’m here at my keyboard, writing my own story.
I celebrate Independence Day complete with watching fireworks. Despite the major flaws of many of the country’s founders in overlooking the equality of certain races and genders, I believe in the core idea of people forming the government and everyone having a say. But I’m troubled by what passes for patriotism in some circles these days as well as the backward movement on human rights. Anyway, here’s a poem I wrote and a playlist I curated for the day.
Allegiance
The city filled with flags proclaims its puffed up patriotism the billowed colors clamoring for adoration, for awe.
The crest of a cardinal catches my eye instead, my loyalty pledged to saving it, to a future of scarlet feathers brightening trees.
A constellation of white wood anemones on the creek’s bank garners my allegiance, my hope for beauty in the years to come.
The first blueberries of the year bring with them a taste of wonder and a wish for a republic filled with enough fruit for all.
Tomatoes, roses, rainbow stripe, great whales, clean snow, and polar bears, blue morpho butterflies, clear skies – all things for which I take a stand.
** And my playlist, in large part celebrating those who have been historically excluded.
I was walking home from work this evening when I heard a cacophony, a racket, an avian hullabaloo. I tried not to think Hitchockian thoughts as I wondered what was up with those birds. So what is up with those birds?
Despite the amount of time since I’ve posted about it, I do still walk regularly. This evening’s walk was especially enjoyable because WE HAVE RAIN! Excuse my excitement. We’re several inches behind where we should be this time of year. Even if I hadn’t been able to find my umbrella, I probably would have gone out anyway.
We did it, folks! Thanks to donations from several people, my poetry raised $270 for the City of Refuge. I don’t yet know the total raised from all poets participating in the Poem-a-Thon.
I wrote to the prompt today, for my final poem. “…write something about celebrations–an event you celebrate, or how you celebrate. How do you turn the everyday into a festive occasion?” This is a little rough, but I can polish it later.
A Little Party Every Day
I try to have a little party for myself every day – good advice from a random stranger on the internet.
I made it through the workday without crumbling and my legs are strong. My phone is the portal to a million songs enough reason to dance, swaying to one upbeat tune before engaging with pots and pans and chopping knives. Pop a sparkling water and raise a glass to snuggly cats and exams passed as my loves share the small joys of their lives. For enduring my dreaded recurring chore — clipping coupons and meal planning squeaky cart wheels and standing in line — discount flowers from the grocery store. A donut on the deck, stationed for a prime view of the pollinators darting and busy from color to color, planting accomplished and now a moment for observation. A camp chair under the carport with a cup of red rooibos tea the joyful tap of rain above me there’s time for a party, no matter how short.