tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193640412011-12-02T16:02:54.942-12:00A hodgepodge of thoughts, freelance writings (mostly poetry), maybe some music, sharing of knowledge/ideas, and interesting stories and adventures that are autobiographical in nature.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.comBlogger651100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-21576008559446177222011-12-02T15:55:00.002-12:002011-12-02T16:02:54.948-12:00

When Love and Doubt meet, They embrace awkwardly, each disappointed in the other. Love is disappointed that Doubt is where she thought another love was. Doubt is disappointed that Love is not what she thought Love was. And so, they embrace gingerly, as if the other were a porcupine "Is that yours or mine, my little porcupine?" "Cuddle in close... I want to feel. your. spines." Love and Doubt

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-89660799713430050232011-05-01T15:26:00.003-12:002011-05-01T15:31:45.393-12:00

tacos, a sliverof moon, a balmy day turnedcold night, and a ride home

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-2011414636254411552011-01-30T18:21:00.007-12:002011-05-01T15:34:17.113-12:00

i wrote this poem a little over a year ago:in the darkest days of decemberthe suna last dying embersilhouettes of the leafless treesalong the mountain skyline, likethe hem of a nightgown trimmed with lacei long for love, this place, just one little tastethe darkest days...i remember.everything will get lighter and lighterafter this star-laced night(i remember)everything will get better and better

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-88031579181906440232010-12-30T07:12:00.008-12:002011-05-01T15:34:04.785-12:00

i try to say what i meanbut sometimes words are like lemmingstears in the telephone be raucous with me.let's be sentient.i could say hackneyed, corny thingsbut i like being different.a heart can be a home.i think so, i'll go where you go.Whither?

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-73462661602982479852010-07-18T10:48:00.004-12:002011-05-01T15:33:51.466-12:00

all tends toward chaos,hibernating thoughts andmementos shoved under the couch, evolving to sweet nostalgic discoverieshere's to the fresh spontaneityof chaosthe penchant for entropythe mysterythe unknownthe surpriseof careening about on this globe,sometimes bumping into one anotheroh... hello....how sheepish. how sloppy and silly and utterly endearing.we are like little orphans, like wide-eyed

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-74379651900377186172010-04-04T14:26:00.007-12:002011-05-01T15:33:36.366-12:00

When I feel that vernal windYou know I'm gonna bend,bend but not break.I got this feeling I can't shake.I got this dogged question rising in me:How much happiness can you make?When I feel that warm breath, that north-bound windI will bend, ripple like the golden fields,but, honey, I will not break.Something's comin' my way,I heard it rustlin' up from behindAnd I can turn and standmeet this big

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-81526348636481923692010-03-20T17:05:00.004-12:002011-05-01T15:33:23.016-12:00

Wayla and Katie left Christian's party after the towering fire sculpture fell into a heap of flames at midnight. The party had been wild, and they were getting worn out. As they were leaving, a guy, good-looking, beginning to bald, wearing a neutral colored sweater and jeans, waved at them to signal them to stop and roll down their window. He asked for a ride. "Where?" Wayla asked."Anywhere

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-20915535172221031462010-03-15T15:56:00.004-12:002011-05-01T15:33:09.421-12:00

reckless and tornlike letting 3 chickens out in the yardtheir feet tied with twineflighty and unbornlike not near enough cornbreadand too much winetired and forlornlike some rundown chevy, beyond fixingtimeless and stuck in timehell.i feel like jesus on easter morn.all risen up and being the lord,just divine.just dee-vine.mmmm.... mighty fine.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-11158219920831678192010-03-01T15:53:00.003-12:002011-05-01T15:32:53.531-12:00

March: In like a lion, out like a lamb.Perhaps we all need weather forecasts.If I could, I would be just as I am.My clouds seem troubled yet cannot remain.Happy skies sit on the horizon of tempests.March: In like a lion, out like a lamb.I never expected all this when here I first came.Future holds little (yet all) of the past.If I could, I would be just as I am.Well, lonely blameless spring does

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-32234295656776369622010-02-12T16:42:00.006-12:002011-05-01T15:32:39.907-12:00

Baby, should we idle for awhileAnd ponder on what could be or could have beenCause you know there is a differenceBetween the sinner and the sinThere's a warmth in every breath but a chill in the noiseWe could choose to drift along or choose to make a choiceEvery moment full so rich, but still-- still life is not fulfilledI want to be stillStill as the highwayStill as the open roadStill as the

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-31830582222777354972010-02-07T15:57:00.005-12:002011-05-01T15:32:13.411-12:00

Get up, step it up, get in your get upSteppin' out, let it outShimmy shimmy shimmy and shout shout shoutStep out, walk about, say what you think out loudShake it, shake it upGiddy giddy giddy giddy upGet around, don't get down, strut your stuff all over townYou know you can do itMove it, move it, groooooove itMake it hot, make a lotCuz honey you got what nobody's gotKeep it real, feel what you

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-75274525507674794872009-10-09T16:08:00.012-12:002010-02-13T17:55:59.660-12:00

at the devil's crossroadone way leads to nowhere, another to hell,one way leads to one true love, the other to the wishing wellwho to love most when i love them allthe holy ghost is surely gonna break my fallwhat a decisionatomic fusion or fissioneither way it's gonna blow up in my faceHow can you choose between a rock and a hard place?at the devil's crossroadthere are people everywhere, wanting

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-84562981752686595122009-05-28T15:18:00.004-12:002010-02-07T12:52:16.132-12:00

* heard two barred owls talking today* saw blooming yellow lady slipper orchids* saw yellow-billed cuckoos for the first time. i love their calls and hear them pretty often, but this is the first time i got a good look. what lovely red on their wings -- i never knew!* got rained on

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-16452776872307658422009-05-12T10:24:00.005-12:002010-02-07T12:52:22.850-12:00

Uvularia sp.Viola hastataStellaria sp. (pubescens, I think, but got to double check)Anemone quinquefolia

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-26494200249769529572009-05-11T14:06:00.004-12:002010-02-07T12:52:28.765-12:00

Well, I arrived at mt. lake just about darkfall. The '91 explorer made it all the way down I-81, and up the mountain. I was uber-excited by the novel (to me) cruise control.As I arrived in Giles County, the sunset couldn’t have been better – the clouds had drifted down to settle around the summits and were tinted bright pink; the mountains in the distance a perfect backdrop blue. God, I do

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-44634358099242390582009-04-30T15:14:00.005-12:002009-05-04T08:15:19.658-12:00

music beating round and rounddancers spin and squigglespinal sinusoidal wavesand hip vibrationsmusic beating i sit on the couchbetweenshy stranger slumping andresting friend with a bellyache.the laughing couple loses balancewhile lapping at each other's necksmusic beating and beatingin my stomachin my earsin my heart, my throat, my feet, my headtheir bodies, my head,their bodies, my heart beating

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-34963428916124290582009-04-28T16:11:00.003-12:002009-04-28T16:19:12.576-12:00

I want to fall like the tideSlowly… then wildly rushThe waxing moon sucks my toes from the marshOur brackish hearts braidingThe river and seaThe mud streaks your backThe salt sticks to meWaters flow in, fill my belly, and thenWaters invert and flow out againThe ripples collideThe ripples collideAnd so begins the ebbing tide

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-36894722758519392432009-04-27T15:01:00.009-12:002009-04-30T09:35:41.010-12:00

i was glad to see the drowsy day die all the insects quit humming all the timelay on the bed by the open windowi wanted to fall in love unabashed, easy, and slowi wanted to love like i love the scent of tomato stemsi wanted to love like i love the way the sweetgum sapling bendsunder the weight of the late afternoon raini let the breeze stroke my belly through the screenwhile I humid lay and

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-51808884406246837252009-04-23T02:40:00.001-12:002009-04-23T02:41:59.680-12:00

Viana: (carrying her stuffed blue jay, grabbing for the tape) I have to fix my blue jay. I was giving him a haircut, and by mistake cut a hole in his head.Katie: Wow, I’m never letting you give me a haircut.(Viana grins)Viana: (Taping stuffed blue jay’s head) Brendan and I used to cut all my dolls’ hair short. Katie: (cleaning dishes) Mmmm…Viana: (continuing) We used to cut it all off

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-54407702304615907832009-04-23T02:38:00.002-12:002011-02-19T07:06:53.218-12:00

Viana (who’s 7) was playing with her stuffed baby harp seal at the breakfast table Wednesday morning.(Viana places the seal in front of Julia’s plate)Julia: Hello, Seal.(Viana places the seal in front of Katie’s bowl)Katie: Hello, Seal.Viana: (examining seal critically) He looks kind of sad…Julia: Maybe he’s concentrating.(Katie, after looking at the big moony eyes of the stuffed seal, begins

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-16907432310249174282009-04-23T02:35:00.003-12:002011-02-19T07:07:28.301-12:00

It was summertime. Hazel walked by with her pet ferret, Smoky, on a leash. Smoky was wet and shivering. Hazel had on a bathing suit.Katie: “Hi, Hazel. Did you go swimming?”Hazel: “Yep.”Katie: “Awww, look at Smoky. He’s so cute... How’d he get wet?”Hazel: (Picking up shivering wet-as-a-rat ferret) “Well, he was sniffing all curious around the water. So, I let him try it. He’s a pretty

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-16631743967384011212009-04-23T02:28:00.002-12:002009-04-23T02:35:44.396-12:00

Fisher is 6. I work with his dad, who is a herpetologist. Fisher's a friendly towheaded kid who is great at catching frogs and salamanders.Katie: “Hey, Fisher.”Fisher: “Hey…. Were you the one snorkeling around in the pond today?”Katie: “Yep.”Fisher: “Did you see anything cool?”Katie: “Not really. It was actually kind of boring. But, I saw lots of newts and bullfrog tadpoles.”Fisher: “Hey,

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-60526795240977612702009-04-06T15:21:00.003-12:002009-04-06T16:11:31.320-12:00

twisting the dogbaneunder the red cedar tree...useless four inch rope.barbed wire fence grown throughthe beech tree reaches rusty scratchy historic why.blue eyes, kind question, lavender, exciting thrill don't know heart skip why daffodils and rain outside tapping the window fingers intertwine.light through lace curtainscat on the edge of bed curledso much warmth here world.old wood, faded

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-33615338423126543562009-03-16T09:17:00.002-12:002009-03-16T09:19:37.164-12:00

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-91858976332730551722009-03-16T09:09:00.002-12:002009-03-16T09:15:31.694-12:00

I guess this one sticks with me because of my obsession with both nature and southern Americana. And because it's quirky and obscure..."We Americans love to have a thing explained, taken apart and put back together the way it should. And I would not be one to go back to nature, because all things being equal, I would rather live in a house than in the woods, and I like my fast cars,

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-88666650947966789172009-01-17T19:27:00.004-12:002009-01-17T19:32:44.475-12:00

Do you think the universe cares about your plansWhen it took 4 billion years to evolve humans?One day we're here, the next we're goneSo enjoy it while you can, because the world goes on.One day Adam said to Eve:"If you don't learn to pick guitar, then I'm gonna leave."So, the Devil said, "Honey, give a bit of soul,and then you can show your baby how to rock 'n roll."Well, when Eve got to playin',

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-83805227774934847112008-08-29T15:09:00.002-12:002008-10-10T16:47:48.854-12:00

i cry in the truckbed because you're gone againbut whenever you're near, i wish you'd understandthat in the winter, the birds, they fly away freebut in the spring they return to their loves happilyoh, i ain't no snow owl, i won't be no redbirdi'll only sing for you, darlin', when i know i'll be heardso, it's so long, darlin', so long, my lovei can't stay through the winter, i won't be your

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-8403334085692894132008-07-18T09:53:00.003-12:002008-10-10T17:01:24.483-12:00

One of my favorite writings by Annie Dillard:There were four of us North Americans in the jungle, in the Ecuadorian jungle on the banks of the Napo River in the Amazon watershed. The other three North Americans were metropolitan men. We stayed in tents in one riverside village, and visited others. At the village called Providencia we saw a sight which moved us, and which shocked the men. The

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-24818932909470875752008-05-22T11:54:00.007-12:002008-12-10T03:11:24.701-12:00

-I have dirt under my fingernails; first time that counts this season.-Sunshine and blue sky today (and predicted for tomorrow)-It was the first day that I have sweat instead of shivered up here.-I got the bright yellow GPS to work after days of frustration. The satellites were beaming down on me with love.-I found a plant that I have never found before. I have not checked the herbarium yet....

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-84997403248779876612008-05-07T15:34:00.005-12:002008-10-10T16:47:48.854-12:00

Orion, my heart is coldOrion -- oh, stand stillCease your trek across the skyBefore you and I grow old.400 billion stars in the night and all I see are yoursSome scattered pattern among so many more.The night-years between ussmother the sky black.The moon pulls me, the Earth spins me,but, ah! the stars know how to attract.Orion, my heart is coldOrion -- oh, stand stillCease your trek across the

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-36993763454169650192008-05-05T09:57:00.009-12:002010-02-13T18:06:55.667-12:00

While mama cried in her summer dressI stood outside and watched the skyThe magnolia in the yardThe dog under the carAnd sweet, sweet melons on the vine.The sticky road floated by the houseI stood outside and watched the skyThe twisted tire swingThe bobwhite wonderingShirts sagging on the clothesline.Floorboards creak and acheFor a true love given freelyBut all it does is take and takeUntil we

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-75825093475363334322008-05-05T09:54:00.004-12:002008-10-10T16:47:48.854-12:00

Warm spell in February,The rain's a gonna comeThe wind'll blow for meWarm spell in February,The ground is damp,Now the frost may get the berry.**The year may go well, the year may go badBut while the sunshine's on my faceWell, I'm still glad.The year may go well, but it may be badBut today I sang awayBecause it's a good day that I had.**There ain't no frost on the glassI can't see my breathSo who

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-66754181807243750102008-05-05T09:43:00.003-12:002008-10-10T16:47:48.855-12:00

Impossibility, I like the word.It makes me think of dandelion seeds blown to the wind,game shows, and bedside prayers, and the land of never-never,treasure hunts, and sweepstakes, and predicting the weather.Impossibility, I like the word.Makes me think of ebbing tides lost to the sea.Dogs chasing cars, or the myth of Hollywood,infinity, asymptotes, and achieving sainthood.We're all dissatisfied

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-91078106627243062352008-03-06T14:54:00.003-12:002008-10-10T17:01:58.693-12:00

there's a line there's aline there's a line there's a line.straight backroad at night.purple petuniason highway median flutterin stormy breeze.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-31645677771116101452008-03-06T14:51:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:01:58.694-12:00

the coffee bean buzzmade her unsure whether shewas tired or awakethis preoccupied hermind for at least ten minuteswhile Computer hummed.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1003048199212926902008-02-22T15:15:00.020-12:002009-05-04T08:05:02.737-12:00

i went down memory lane today when a friend sent me an old picture of me and i recalled that strange time in my life when i quietened and curled up and really began to get to know myself within my body. It started in Mexico, when I had enough time alone to think about it and was exposed to so many new things all at once. i'd walk to the store with my feet hitting the stones on the uneven

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-69591125308780781072008-02-19T16:37:00.002-12:002008-10-10T17:02:23.678-12:00

There was a scientist who met a farmer, and that scientist thought maybe he had some sort of advantage over the farmer, so he proposed they play a little game. He said to the farmer, “I tell you what, I’ll ask you a question, and if you don’t know the answer, you give me $1, and you can ask me a question, and if I don’t know the answer, I’ll give you $10.” “Alright,” said the farmer. “You can

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-14113904081537872042008-02-19T15:03:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:03:28.744-12:00

My brother and me like to tinker around with old cars. I had this red ’55 Ford Thunderbird that was needing a part, and we heard about this junkyard that kept a bunch of old cars and would sell their parts. So, we went out there and talked to the guy who owned it and he said we could just go out there in this big old junkyard, find the part we needed, and bring it back to pay for it. Well, me

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-54437206900832860372008-02-19T15:02:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:03:28.744-12:00

My Uncle was a preacher, one of the most famous preachers around, because he could preach a sermon about anything at all. Anything. And one day before church, my uncle said to his wife, “Today, I’m going to preach about horse back riding.” And his wife turned to him and said, “You can’t do that, you don’t know nary a thing about it.” And he said, “Well, yes, I can. I can preach about

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-66268447397926055822008-01-14T16:25:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:01:58.694-12:00

January rainDribbles like mammoth slobberWistful gaze at bike. *** cold snow. quiet street.bus turns corner, squeaky brakes.oh, hooray! warm seat. *** uninsulated house.seatwarming energywasted if i move.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-37906377094596284182007-10-11T12:12:00.000-12:002008-12-10T03:11:25.056-12:00

cliffside vertigo buzzards circle below me sun in my eyes. ***witch hazel in full flower: golden, leafless, last bloom until spring.*** everything is golden: hickory, birch, field, witch hazel, and sun.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-9980496934030784192007-09-21T16:43:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.306-12:00

i could zoom and bloomoh, fiddledeedee, for ihad too much caffeine.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-30844060810265218722007-09-21T16:42:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.306-12:00

i am resoundingin the meadow morning, withgolden rye and turkeys***a foggy morning,the atmosphere broke and letloose the sun's warm breath.***i got lost and lostthe pretty turkey featherwith tan and brown stripes.***the deer flick their whitetails, bounding brown through the brush.beat it, you fuckers.***the sun lowers slow,makes trees' shadows long, black stripesacross the still ground.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-79179768724379095022007-08-27T14:36:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.306-12:00

we sat on the couch,the one with yellow designs,reading words out loud.and we had a tiffover the apple pie crustso ridiculous.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-72479794477080499562007-07-11T15:42:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.307-12:00

coffee on Sundayintoxicating smell, withheavy whipping cream *** grocery brainwash.Toasted Oats or Cheerios.need status symbol. *** wake up. must wake up.teapot screams like a banshee.warm mug between hands. *** oatmeal is too regular.who really eats cream of wheat??profligacy of pancakes!

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-22203416126604383502007-07-11T15:26:00.002-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.307-12:00

purring cat in faceroll over. Something thumps onfloor. it's 5 a.m. *** Ev'ryday somethingnew. The cat will eat Cheetos.today's discovery *** Cat in the morningKnocks over things in bedroom.Why do I feed you?

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-90988891754541867462007-07-11T15:26:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.307-12:00

one bright autumn day,a ladybug flew intoyour head, audibly. *** killing does not seemso bad when damn mosquitowhines in ear. can't sleep. *** trail of ants leadingto girlscout cookies.Life is so cruel.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-5112069742223503832007-07-11T15:25:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.307-12:00

The maple losesIts red, red leaves: Autumn.Microbial feast. *** pulling the stuffingfrom the pod, in handfuls flingmilkweed fluff skyward *** wading through field ofbroomsedge, cardinals flush. Seedsstick to my sweater.*** one bright autumn day,a ladybug flew intoyour head, audibly.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-57530846411504929292007-07-11T15:21:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.307-12:00

I'm so thankful forThe blessing of my buttocks.They are so useful. ***she sits and pondersthe methods of constructingpossum sock puppets *** Pink Post-it noteTaunts me from strategic spot.Don't want to do it! ***Procrastination:Still can't think of a new line.Minute hand ticks by.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-43004197287033108452007-07-11T15:20:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.308-12:00

Pillow! Oh, how I love thee.Nothing can beat thisHorizontal position. ***alarm! snooze... alarm!snooze... alarm! snooze... alarm! snooze...alarm! late to work. *** wake up. must wake up.teapot screams like a banshee.warm mug between hands.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-64944875503699627142007-07-11T15:17:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.308-12:00

swish of water andfake lemon aroma, oh!i cleaned the toilet! ***apartment above,vacuum runs across ceilingfloorboards creak, they creak *** need to do laundry.gross drool stain on the pillow.turn it over. sleep. ***I have not showered today,But no worries, mate.Instant bath: deoderant!***down Steep Driveway, idragged Heavy Trashcan; breath cloudspuffed in morning air.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-25299009466279500582007-07-11T15:16:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:19.308-12:00

We'd visit the moon much moreIf moon was cookie.All astronauts would be fat.***black walnut ice creamis definitely the best thingthat i ate all day. ***chocolate wrapperfeels so good as it crinklesbetween my fingers

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-64860069318900262002007-05-31T14:47:00.002-12:002008-10-10T17:04:47.481-12:00

Thursday, April 20, 2006I spent much of Sunday afternoon busking downtown. For a while, I sang, played, and talked with this middle-aged black guy who is a cook at Miller’s Grill and Bar. He was wistful about the days when he was in a Motown band in Hawaii. (“I made 1000 bucks a week. Lived in Hawaii. Now I’m 52…. I was the best trumpet player around.”) Then, he said he got too hard into

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-55807958764066184922007-05-31T14:39:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:04:47.481-12:00

This entry was written before I got ahold of a paper that told me about the invasion and fall of Baghdad that was happening as I wrote, but its timeliness is impressive.Sunday, March 23, 2003 in El Taxin, Mexico I think the rainy season started this weekend, as did spring, in theory. Spring (in theory) starts everywhere in the Northern Hemisphere on the twenty-first of March, when actually

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-14334729442511928512007-05-17T01:31:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:04:47.482-12:00

An old journal entry--Sunday, June 10, 2002Around dusk, a cloud bank rolled in. The fog crept in through the valleys and crags first, and the bank followed behind. We watched as the cloud filled in below us. The breeze is pretty strong on the summit of Yellow Mountain, so eerie sheets and rags of fog came floating past us on top. The breeze soon turned to gusty, cold wind, and we were thankful

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-71631460523935640622007-05-15T14:46:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:04:47.482-12:00

Bobby and I went to the Newport Agricultural Fair yesterday. It was an old-fashioned country fair, with contests for the biggest vegetable and all. We met this taxidermist who had his work on display. Bobby builds banjos, and is in the midst of building one for a friend, so he wanted to find a thin skin to use to make the banjo. He’s ordered calf skin but wanted to check out more local

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-67150557994198232832007-05-14T17:11:00.001-12:002008-10-10T17:05:04.301-12:00

May 2006, Totsukawa, Japan “Let’s go this way – maybe we’ll see something,” Lauren said, as she veered suddenly right onto a dark little road up the mountainside. “Maybe some tanukis – I’ve seen them here before.” “Or a monkey?” Katie said hopefully. “Mmmm, I don’t think they come out at night,” Lauren answered. The little car rounded a curve, and everyone strained their eyes as the

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1146973469759471252006-05-06T15:40:00.000-12:002008-10-10T16:58:06.091-12:00

O vicious, vicious nightWith capricious, capricious moonAre they careless, careless -- they:The stars that never touch us?O mistress, mistress Moon,Grant my wishes, wishes!In this viscous, viscous lifeWill heaven never miss us?

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1140379018805612472006-02-19T07:50:00.000-12:002008-10-10T16:58:06.091-12:00

Wild and bitter -- a prodigal, prodigious weed,Pushing toward the light, born only to scatter seed.In foolish wanderingsAmong broken roots,Bounty existsIn ditches,In vacancies.Overgrown childrenRevelIn life's extremities.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1137560045210560702006-01-17T16:50:00.000-12:002008-10-10T16:58:06.091-12:00

I can hear the leaves fallingThe fly buzzing 'round my head.And I wish you were here with me instead.Ripples reflect sunlight; fluttering rays.I sit here, think stupid thoughts:"Man, look at those photons go."I want to sleep where those lilies grow,Or sit here and breathe myself in,Get turned into CO2,And be exhaled again.Permeating every space, inhuman.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1137551521719033172006-01-17T13:51:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:06:09.576-12:00

Ok, I admit it. I'm being incredibly lazy and not really blogging at all. I'm going to put up another packet of old journal entries from last year that are really interesting. This was an especially meaningful time in my life because it was the last semester of my senior year of college, always a time of much introspection, nostalgia, and questioning about the future. Anyways, I think one of the

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1134317748999856912005-12-11T04:03:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:05:44.568-12:00

All silent, breath and dark,Slumber overtaking rouséd mindAnd, of a sudden,Tapdancing on my windowpaneRhythmic stumbling of rainwaterI’d dance too if I were they –Awake and wet and precipitate.No kamikaze sleet am I,But splashing runnels of translucent night.And so, to the drumming of their drenched feet,Mind enters REM state for awaited, unawakened dreams.

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1133929360177019292005-12-06T15:53:00.000-12:002008-10-10T17:06:09.576-12:00

Since I don't write often and I'm too lazy to write something currently, here's some musings from early summer that I really enjoyed writing when I did my first 'real' farming job.Monday, May 9, 2005I’m spending my first night at the farm. As I sit here on my front porch (of my cabin - ~8 feet wide. Small, but enough for everything.), the first thing I notice are the sounds. Frogs croak in the

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1133324333803523102005-11-29T15:58:00.000-12:002005-11-29T16:47:18.180-12:00

I thought of something else! You see, I have to think of PURPOSES for my blog, so I feel like I'm not wasting my time. My other purpose, besides showing off, is to give others "insight" and "understanding" into the life of someone like me. An ecology graduate student. A Southern, white, middle-class, borderline hemi-hippy (don't you EVER call me that) female in her 20's. I feel like most people

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19364041.post-1133124122235297612005-11-27T08:36:00.000-12:002005-11-27T08:42:02.243-12:00

This is not a journal. Not really. Its purpose (which I feel compelled to make clear) is NOT self-expression nor self-exploration nor historical/autobiographical documentation. If I had any such intention or desire to write writing of that nature, I would write it, with my favorite ball-point pen, in my private little green journal book. This gab in HERE also has a purpose: to show off. Why

Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04851503713201292884noreply@blogger.com0