the late crew

midnight mass

the bathtub full of steam and old soap and that single pubic hair
full of me. my legs and breasts full of milk. crying midnight baths
become ritual: father, i have sinned. full of sin.
a cup full of wine. pressed to my lips, the back of my hand,
even i can see the poignancy of my own hand, aging and alone.
i start crying for my husband, and by the time the puddles are
at my feet and the tub is loudly belching the last of the water,
i am crying for children that no one loves. children left to weep.
i cannot stand those children, their voices cry out to me as if my 
ears are pressed to God. more than my own pain, it is theirs that 
haunts. i believe if i could find my way into the baby's bedroom,
in the dark, and pull that tender sweaty tear soaked body from the
crib or the bed, and hold that child to my chest and tell them i love you,
i love you, i love you, everything is ok
you are not alone
- i would heal myself.

mme

at night i listen for the wind outside my window

A great and terrible silence has fallen on a part of my life that has been, for all these years...all of our years... a noisy, joyful, painful, pleasurable, messy and jubilant space, full of... full. Just full. And now it is so quiet. I feel Winter as a comfort for it speaks to my bones. White, silent, still, waiting, yet held aloft, arms upright, lifted in anticipation of some small movement, some wintering storm that will snarl through and snap the branches and break open the ice on the river. Of all things, myself a Scorpio, this kind of suspended animation is the least bearable. I can run in the river of fire but I die on top of the frozen tundra. Agitation begins to burden me until I am forced into either a massive, childish breakdown that artists are- used to be- famous for, or a retreat. For now, for the love of my family and my loyalty to them, I retreat. So my words lose their force and their heat and their life and fall like dead leaves... Jack White, Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground. I go to write and want to hold my keyboard close and weep over the words that will. not. come. I cling to music. I reside there and the books I read and the vanilla necks and closer than close eyes of my children. I pray and cry like women have done for centuries, in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep. I pray for guidance to do the right thing. I pray for strength beyond my expectations of myself. I pray for clarity. Most of all, I pray for patience, this the least of all my graces. I hear the echoes of priests I've never spoken to telling me to wait. Have faith. The answers will come. I hate waiting. I feel the days slipping by and want to break open the sky with a mighty Thor like swing of axe, I want to scream the birds out of the trees, I want to force life. I want to make, and do, and create, and this is my nature. Please help me, please help me, my prayers just say thank you and please help me.

“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.” 
― Victor Hugo

People In Your Neighborhood

take a seat and read!

Allison Carmen writes often about the power of 'maybe'. In this recounting of a woman facing the possible death of her mother, she illuminates how powerful remembering 'maybe' is.

I loved reading this account of the 'island where people forgot to die'- I could read a book on this. I hope someone is writing one, with lots of photos!

Emily Rapp writes about why you should stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. True wisdom here. Saving this one.

How to balance hormones for health and reduction of acne. Simple and so true.

On curing RSI/back pain with your mind. I read stories like this all the time and used these ideas in my own recovery from chronic pain.

Fascinating. The title says it all: Abandoned Suitcases Reveal Private Lives of Insane Asylum Patients

I think everyone should read this: Big Sugar's Sweet Little Lies It's not only about the health risks of the amount of sugar Americans consume, but how big companies lie and control the information we receive.

An app for recording one minute of every day of your life.

POETRY. You need it. Rich Ferguson's new collection 8th & Agony is here for you.

Christmas Teaches Us Once Again

Despite a lifetime of reading and watching after school Christmas specials, Mr. Curry and I fell prey to Christmas money blues. We worried we couldn't make Christmas special enough for our kids, that we couldn't drive to far off Christmassy places, buy All The Things, decorate with abundance, cook with plentitude- because whoever you are, if you are a loving parent, then you want your children to not just have a life, but the best of life. It's just that sometimes, you really, really get scared that it might not actually be about only heart...but also about that pile of presents. And of course, for most American small children who celebrate Christmas, toys are definitely part if not most of the excitement. They are indoctrinated with the call of Christmas toys in every grocery store, Target, mall and even Christmas stories which feature elves making amazing toys for good boys and girls. This year, we were poorer than any year past, and while WE felt blessed to have the little we did, and to have the net of our families who, even if we couldn't buy one thing for our brood, fill in quite nicely with their sweet gifts... we weren't sure the kids would feel that way. It was tight enough that when I bought Mr. Curry a Christmas present-  we had agreed NOT to buy for each other- after looking at the budget I had to return it that same day. We spent the month going to free celebrations and looking at lights and watching Christmas movies and made  few batches of cookies and listened to Christmas music every day, and it was good. Christmas Eve, we finished our present wrapping and looked doubtfully at each other. The small gathering of gifts compared to years past seemed sad, depressing even. Would the kids feel sad? And as you know because you know, they were not sad, not one little bit. Their stockings WERE hung by the fire with care, and stuffed with very thoughtful things, though very small, and their gifts while not many were each lovingly thought about and carefully chosen. And each child was happy. And not one perplexed, sad, or confused look crossed their face. The Christmas music rang out, the breakfast sausage sizzled, my mom brought coffee, and it was everything Christmas should be, beautiful, heart warming, full of love. We visited our Dakota, his first Christmas morning EVER not at home..which was a little hard for me, I admit I started out the day blue, but recovered quickly for the girls. He was working hard at his job and came home after his shift was over, and I made a huge turkey and my mom taught me how to make mashed potatoes by scratch and we all ate Christmas dinner and watched a Christmas movie and it was perfectly imperfect. I felt humbled by the realization that we have done better by our children than I had feared, we have taught them about the true meaning of Christmas, and they have been listening, and believing, and that it had been US who needed to remember.  ( And just in case, there's always Grandma ;) I hope your Christmas was beautiful, too.

Eleven Things That Make Say Anything One of the Best Movies of the Eighties

1. Diane Court's grades and lazar like focus on her intellectual and career ambitions. Her dictionary filled with pages of words with an X next to them, indicating she had looked the word up. She's the one in control in this movie. She's been chased while she is chasing the love of a full life. I LIKE IT.

2. Diane had to go to court to choose a parent and choose her dad. Not that it's good to choose dad over mom or mom over dad, but that even more then than now, choosing a father over a mother was unheard of. Diane's relationship with her dad is close and honest, she thinks. The title Say Anything is unexpectedly more about that relationship than it is about the one with Lloyd.

3. Lloyd's sad but talented guitar playing friend leaves Joe when he asks for sex, despite her previous obsession with him. 

4. Key master!!!

5. The hug in front of Diane's house after her first date with Lloyd was one of the most tender and adorable hugs ever depicted on screen. 

6. Lloyd's speech at the dinner table with Diane and her dad. EPIC.
" I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.... I don't know. I'm not going to figure it out all tonight sir. I just want to hang with your daughter. "

7. Diane tells her dad when she sleeps with Lloyd. " So I decided not to sleep with him. _dad relieved_ But then I attacked him anyway. "

8. Lloyd's letter to Diane. ' Dear Diane, I'll always be there for you. All the love in my heart, Lloyd. '

9.  After Diane breaks up with Lloyd, This line: ' I gave her my heart. She gave me a pen. '

10. ' I got a question? If you guys know so much about women, how come you are here at like, a Gas and Sip on a Saturday night completely alone drinking beers with no women anywhere? '   LONG PAUSE ' By choice, man! '- This scene is perfection. The sad Gas n Sip at midnight, the half drunk group of guys posturing in front and ripping on Lloyd for caring about Diane, and the line Lloyd delivers in that unmistakable John Cusack voice. 

11. The boom box. THE song. The posture and the long look the camera takes at Lloyd's vulnerable, heartbroken face. Timeless and beautiful romanticism. 

Lola and I watched Say Anything tonight together. I was 18 and in love for the first time when I saw this movie, and all these years later here I am eating old Chinese takeout and cuddling on a bed with my beautiful souled girl watching it again. Life. Love. xo

Christmas Eve Party

“One day you will do things for me that you hate. That is what it means to be family.” 
― Jonathan Safran Foer

“There’s nothing that makes you more insane than family. Or more happy. Or more exasperated. Or more . . . secure.” 
― Jim Butcher

“In two words," said Alan quietly, "there is nothing I love half as much as you.” 
― Sarah Rees Brennan

“He gave her a quick, casual kiss on the cheek first. Then came the hug, and it was the hug that always made Laurel’s heart mush. Serious grip, cheek to the hair, eyes closed, just a little sway. Del’s hugs mattered, she thought, and made him impossible to resist.” 
― Nora Roberts

“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations.” 
― Oscar Wilde

"At Christmas, all roads lead home." 
- Marjorie Holmes

“One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.” 
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.” 
― Mother Teresa

“Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.” 
― Friedrich Nietzsche

"The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others’ burdens, easing other’s loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas." 
- WC Jones

“My dear young cousin, if there's one thing I've learned over the eons, it's that you can't give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it.” 
― Rick Riordan

“Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more.” 
― Robin Hobb

What do you MEAN, Christmas is over?!!?!

No Matter How I Try, I Can't Get Newtown Out of My Mind

For Our Children.

I love you Newtown. 
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you. I love you.
I love you.  I love you.
I love you.  I love you.
I love you.  I love you.....

And Jesus said I should love you too, number 28.  and I'm trying.