the poet in you

Our cold front came and went but it was nice while it lasted. We settled in the 40's for a few days and today we poked our heads out into 60 degree weather. That's rough for Texas. And speaking of Texas, I saw No Country For Old Men over the weekend. Amazing. When I think about the movie and want to discuss it so much rushes in and I don't know where to begin. Let me say, within the first 5 minutes I didn't think I'd be able to stay through to the end. I had to go into my head, have a short dialogue with myself and make a concious decision. I didn't want to react to a scene or two and run, screaming from the building. I stayed and I'm glad I did.

For those of you who don't know, the movie is a based on the Cormac McCarthy book of the same title. Years ago I read Blood Meridian. The imagery is always so vivid in McCarthy's books and good or bad, they will haunt you for years. After reading that first book I had to read what I could about the author. He was being described as American Gothic and it is so apropos. His work is dark, he tends to focus on what lies beneath, he exposes the darkest most frightening places of a soul. For me, his writing is fluid and flawless. When I read The Road there were times that I had to just stop and take in a passage. I have not read No Country For Old Men.

The movie was made my the Coen Brothers. I am a fan of them as well: Raising Arizona, The Big Lebowski, Barton Fink. And now they've turned their talents on Cormac McCarthy. The movie takes place in west Texas. They have the vernacular down pat. When I first heard the premise of the story (man finds lotsa ill-gotten money and decides to keep it) I immediately thought of A Simple Plan and while that was a very entertaining movie, I wasn't up for a rerun. No Country is by no means a re-hash of the same story. It is a story of the hunted and the hunter. It is relentless. It is a story of learning how small man is, how brutal he can be. "You can't stop what's coming" is a line from the movie and by the end, you know it to be true. We fight and struggle, fight and struggle. The most we can do is create a framework with the little decisions we make everyday but then, once the wheels are put into motion, stand back. Our part is all but over. If you can take the graphic nature of this movie, there is a story worth hearing.

With that friends, I leave you until another day. I have a good sized bundle of books to take to the post office this morning. I might even be back to rant and rave! The post office, on a good day, is not my favorite place but between Thanksgiving and Christmas...have mercy on me.

At eighty-nine degrees it isn't easy to get into the holiday spirit. After working a half day I came home, opened all the windows, put on a tank top and seriously considered donning shorts. I kept thinking to myself all the while, "Maybe I'm perimenopause, I'm too hot". I was hot at work, hot in the car and hot in the house. I flashed on the Twilight Zone episode where the sun is getting closer and closer to the earth and the artist keeps doing painting after painting of the sun. I plunked down in bed and had a dream that I was at the stove, the gas was flowing but there was no flame and when I went to make sure the burner was off a loud alarm sounded, a warning of the gas explosion that would surely follow. I woke up groggy, the alarm was in reality, a large work truck backing up and beeping while it did so. Eccchhhh...why aren't you a snowplow? Why isn't it cold? Why isn't it snowing?

Blessed be the weatherman, maybe it will snow soon enough. Okay, I exaggerate but he was true to his word about the cold front coming in this evening. It has dropped about 35 degrees from this afternoon and tomorrow morning it's supposed to be in the 40's. Finally. Now I can turn off the ceiling fans, now I can brine my turkey, now I can listen to my Vince Guaraldi CD and tomorrow it will feel a little more like Thanksgiving Day. For this, I am thankful.

My little Cherry Berry, my Bean, my Fat Penny is home. My sweet little Copper Top is all puffed up from her 11! extractions. Her little doggie smile has gone missing and I anticipate a crooked-er version to replace it, one without the pearlie-whites of her underbite showing through. She has a night table with narcotics, anti-inflammatories and antibiotics all in a row.

Perhaps I've used her as a distractions to book work. I have boxes of titles that need cleaning and describing and posting. I'm no longer listing my books on ABE so that is one less venue to worry about. There were a lot of good things about ABE but in the end it was too expensive for the few sales that I got from it. For now it's Alibris and Amazon and eBay from time to time. After November I'll make a concerted effort to focus on the books but for right now it's all about Baby and NaNoWriMo.

I actually have an outline for NanoWriMo and I kind of like that. I can see structure; a beginning, a middle and end. It's a pretty shakey foundation but it seems like it points the way and keeps me on track. So I've plenty to do and right now, making dinner is next on the list.

Baby, our smallest dog, had an appointment with the dental specialist this morning. Years ago she chewed into an electric blanket and got the shock of her life. It was pretty severe, it fused her tongue into an "L" shape so it forever hangs out the side of her mouth, it made a permanent hole on the roof of her mouth and the corners of her mouth now have heavy scar tissue. The people who brought her in 7 years ago could not afford to have her treated so they cruelly left in a nearby park to fend for herself. She would have likely died from infection or malnourishment or who knows what had a very nice person not found her and coincidentally brought her (again) to our clinic. So is the story of our little dog. She was the clinic dog for years, venturing away for days or weeks at a time when clients in emotional distress needed a doggie-fix, a temporary canine companion to lessen the heartache or loneliness that visits each of us from time to time. But she would always come back and when I started at the clinic, well, it was love at first sight.

I'm crazy about that girl. It was agonizing leaving her at the dentist. I hovered by the phone and worried. I left messages on friend's machines telling them that Baby was in surgery. I distracted myself with errands and made up songs about the dirty donut shop that finally closed, Mrs. Johnsons Donuts (a blues ditty, "Dirty Mrs. Johnson, she sells donuts on the corner, she never washed her windows, ain't no one gonna mourn her...).

The call finally came in. 11 teeth were pulled. All of her lower incisors were pulled (the tiny front teeth between the fangs) and several premolars were taken. Her palate repair will have to wait and I can't pick her up until tomorrow after work. It's the first time that I've been away from her since she's transitioned over to our house. I know she's where she needs to be though. She will get pain meds that I wouldn't be able to administer. And seeing her tomorrow will make it all worth it. She's going to be so happy to come home.

It's 6:20 in the morning, only minutes before I leave for work at the veterinary office. I've been having gruesome work dreams. I need a little distance from this job, maybe a lot of distance. I can do it for only short periods of time, a year or two it seems, then I get burnt out.

NaNoWriMo is this month. It will be good to focus on that this weekend especially since my most favorite book haunt is officially closing up shop. The 14th is the last day for the place. It seems I was always able to find something there. Last week I picked up a history of Polynesia that is valued at $225. I bought it for .25 cents. I also found a Dervish Textbook, not something you find everyday. There is always some treasure to be found. I comb and comb the shelves. I think I've exhausted their inventory by now. The employees are busy packing up book boxes. I think I'll stay away.