All posts by Jim

It’s Beginning To Feel A Lot Like…

Notes from the Southwest Corner, Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings

Tomorrow, i will be putting out updates on the website including a new, easier, and secure way to obtain a signed copy of my book, Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings. i am creating more posts on my journey with the book and what i consider exciting news about my new project.

i worked today. It felt good. For kickers, i visited my friend and saving grace with all things of the web. Walker Hicks not only fixed a lot of things in my giddyup, he got me on track again. He’s a guru plus.

i also attacked a number of home projects today: wrapping gifts and finishing up shopping, organizing and actually making some progress rather than my usual moving one stack to another place and another stack to where that one had been. A couple of other things got done as well. i was planning to write and organize some more tonight.

Then, i grilled hamburgers. i stacked the fireplace with wood, lit the fire, and went out to the grill and began that process. It was about a half-hour before sunset behind our hill. i had my bluetooth speaker on, and my library of songs, shuffled, began with the B-side of the Silhouettes’ 1957 hit, “Get a Job.” I always enjoyed “I’m Lonely” more than the huge hit on the other side. With the crackling of the needle before the song began — i digitized about 250 of my 45 RPM records — i knew what was coming. With a glass of Bordeaux in my hand while tending the sizzling burgers. i looked up at our flag on the top of our hill.

Seeing the sight above, i ceased my thoughts of more work. We ate the burgers, fries, and bean salad on dinner trays in the family room as is our custom. But no television tonight. We put on some Christmas instrumentals and rested. Maureen came over to my chair by the crackling fire and removed my book to the reading table and sat in my lap. Our heads rested against each other’s. We held hands.

Man, it’s been a great day, and it’s beginning to feel a lot like…well, you know.

Enchantress

Sea Stories

the old mariner stepped cautiously,
a cane steadying his step,
toward the dilapidated wood pier
and
small dinghy at the head of the pier,
but
he wouldn’t board the dinghy today,
not today,
for the sea had chosen to be
belligerent and gray
with the wind whipping up
the spume of white caps:
too rough for old men
to row a shabby dinghy
out for a mile and then back,
which was his custom.

the old mariner sighed,
settling for listening to the sea
speak to him
as she had done
for what seemed like centuries
after­ she, the enchantress,
called him on a calm night,
using the full moon’s path
to him while he stood
at the rail port amidships,
the moon calling him like Circe’s sirens,
and
she, the enchantress, touched him,
gripping him deep inside
and
he fell in love.

little did the old mariner realize
until now
she would possess him
until the end of time
and
others he held close
would recognize
she possessed him,
assume he didn’t care,
and
leave him alone,
as alone as he was,
on this blustery sea day
looking out
at his angry, jealous enchantress.

the old mariner turned from her,
walking away,
carefully placing his cane for the next step
to his shanty on the nearby beach
where he would place the logs
in the hearth,
light the fire
to sit by
until
the next day
when he would row out
on the dinghy
and
speak to his enchantress
again.