Hand-me-downs

When I was a little girl, I used to get my cousin's hand-me-down clothes. I was always so excited to sort through the boxes that my aunt would send.

Now Edith gets my cousin's dog Gracie's hand-me-downs. Gracie is an adorable Boston Terrier, and lucky for Edith, Gracie must have had a growing spurt. My cousin sent Edith at least ten new outfits, some still had a tag.

Summer Nap

Happy 1st Birthday to Edith

Waiting on the words

Edith is recovering well from both being spayed and having her tiny nostrils enlarged. Her surgery forced me to camp out at home this weekend. That's never a bad thing, really. I have never been too interested in astrology, but my sign (cancer) is right on for the most part. Despite my summer trips, I am a complete homebody.

Besides for the entertainment of watching Edith maneuver around the apartment in her plastic cone, I was also given great reading material to engage in during this time. Frank brought me a Christmas present:Heather Derr-Smith's new book; I am only about halfway through and I'm savoring every word. Plus, I am reading a friend of mine's new work. We both graduated last May and he already has a chapbook plus worth of work. If I sent out my new work, it would consist of a handful of poems.

I like to think the words are brewing, but I'm not so sure anymore. I think about poems all of the time. But when will they emerge? I've become somewhat of a perfectionist about first drafts. That's ridiculous. Everything else in my life is so lovely, but I'm waiting on the words to surface. It's like I need a writing therapist.

The Pet Blogger

I can't remember where I read it, but somewhere I read a rant about poets who blog too much about their pets. You're either an animal person or not. And with pugs, well, they are similar to Jeeps...if you don't have one, you might not quite understand.

In any case, I do think I need to blog more about writing. I think about writing so much that I rarely write about it. I should.

At the same time, if you want to see my work, you can check out the journals I have listed to the right. I love reading a variety of blogs and I especially love reading blogs about the poetic craft.

So I apologize about the dog pictures and nonsense, but I know you sorta like it too.

I am a real poet, I swear. The way I look at it is like this. I need a space where I can be gushy about Telemachus and Edith. This blog helps me keep that sentimentality out of my work. Okay, well once in a while it seeps into my work. But these dogs provide me with so much love and entertainment that I can't keep it all to myself.

Welcome Edith

Some people just aren't dog people. Those people are not very happy with me right now and I don't much care. They say things like, "How can you take care of two dogs? How can you afford it? Telemachus likes being alone. You aren't home as it is. You make irrational decisions."

Here is my reply. Look at my new little baby's face. Dogs are pack animals. I was never home because I worked full time and earned an MFA (one in which I traveled to four universities) in 3 years (Thanks mom for helping out with Telemachus). I'm broke...there will be no more summer long backpacking trips for quite some time. I'm a writer so that means most of my time is spent right here in this very apartment. I am my mother's only child and look how messed up I am. Telemachus needs a sister (hopefully not a girlfriend).

In all seriousness, I know those non-dog people will come around the minute they set eyes on this new beauty. And who wouldn't love a dog named after Edith Piaf? I should train her in French. The only problem is that though I spent some time in France a few summers ago, I can only say things "I would like some red wine. I would like some white wine. I will have the special of the day. Thank you."

As for Telemachus, he is not quite sure about Edith yet. I only pulled the above picture off with some bribing. I do have confidence that they will soon be the best of friends. My intent was to rescue a dog...what could be more special? However, most of the dogs at the places I searched were too big for apartment living. Pugs are a bit different from other dogs and as much as I love Pit Bulls, I just didn't think it was right for Telemachus. So now I have two babies who will climb into the bed using the doggy steps and keep me up all night with their snoring. Does life get any better than this?