Tuesday, February 24, 2009

What day is it?

Well, I was feeling better. I went to see Slumdog Millionaire--what a fascinating way to tell a story.

It didn't last long. So say a prayer--it is rare that I talk to my therapist during the week but after yesterday's session, she said, call me if you need to. And I did. I texted Bird (my sister) "I need a hug" and she called back right away. Now, I don't get suicidal (there's a blessing) but she said to me, "I talked to Jesus and he's not ready for you yet." She is such a dear one.

The good news is I made it to work. Late, but I made it. (After my shower, I crawled right back into bed, though.)

Last night the Monday girls (our small group) had a Girl Scout Cookie party. I brought my own bottle of Coke, and ate one cookie. K. was a gracious host (she always is) and fed me some mashed potatoes she had on hand. When my stomach settles, I have some cookies to enjoy in my purse.

So, since I really have nothing to say, I'll make this Poetry Tuesday and give you some Emily Dickenson that always makes me smile. Do you have a poem that always makes you smile?


Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--
without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

What do I hope for? That this cough is not a harbinger of a cold. That I can remember to take care of some financial errands tomorrow (that I forgot today). That I can get out of this funk.

The Emily Dickenson reminds me of the hymn, How can I keep from singing.

I sure am a rambling writer today...


KitchenKiki said...

The poem that always makes me smile is an e.e. cummings, but my dad wrote it in my autograph book when I was 7 or 8 (and had an autograph book, I wonder what happened to it...) He wrote it from memory, so I don't know it the way e.e. wrote it, I know it the way my dad wrote it

I'm nobody,
who are you?
are you nobody too?
there's a pair of us
don't tell
they'll banish us you know

How public to be somebody
How public
like a frog
to sing your name the live long day
to an admiring bog

(with apologies to ee)

KitchenKiki said...

Oh, and hugs too!

Kara said...

Hi Sarah Louise,

I have been such a lurker on your lovely blog, and I feel bad, because I enjoy your blog, and it sounds like you are having a hard time right now.

Let me introduce myself: My name is Kara. I found your blog through your friend Babelbabe's blog (I found HER blog through my former fiance's blog. THAT is a long story which I will spare you, but suffice it to say that I am, upon rare occasion, mentioned as an evil person on her blog.)

Several years ago, I was a librarian in Pittsburgh (Pitt MLS grad, as I imagine you are.) I like your blog because you are a very good writer, and because you write about places I love, and because your life seems similar in many ways to my own life (i.e., librarian; struggles with mental illness - anxiety disorder on my part; the struggle to be comfortable in life - and more specifically in Pittsburgh - with no husband or children.)

Hang in there this week - the sun will be coming out in Pittsburgh soon, I'm sure.

Sarah Louise said...


Thank you for your kind words.

Sarah Louise

Sis said...

I am glad you texted me. You are very dear to me too!!
This poem by Shel Silverstein always makes me smile (Mom and Dad used to quote part of it)

Little Abigail And The Beautiful Pony

There was a girl named Abigail
Who was taking a drive
Through the country
With her parents
When she spied a beautiful sad-eyed
Grey and white pony.
And next to it was a sign
That said,
"Oh," said Abigail, "May I have that pony? May I please?"
And her parents said, "No you may not."
And Abigail said,
"But I MUST have that pony."
And her parents said,
"Well, you can have a nice butter pecan Ice cream cone when we get home."
And Abigail said, "I don't want a butter pecan Ice cream cone, I WANT THAT PONY--I MUST HAVE THAT PONY."
And her parents said,"Be quiet and stop nagging--You're not getting that pony."
And Abigail began to cry and said,
"If I don't get that pony I'll die."
And her parents said, "You won't die. No child ever died yet from not getting a pony."
And Abigail felt so bad That when she got home she went to bed, And she couldn't eat, And she couldn't sleep, And her heart was broken,
And she DID die--
All because of a pony
That her parents wouldn't buy.

(This is a good story To read to your folks When they won't buy You something you want.)