Peachy

Feeling peachy, enjoying swimming laps in the morning, and getting plenty done, though it's not always clear what--as I work on a number of things at once that require reading, writing, editing, organizing, and thinking about. And then I juggle them, like oranges (how I first learned to juggle), or peaches (bruise too easily if you are resuming juggling later in life).

Tuck it in "no motion," as we say in the improvisational theatre world. Don't "act" on this--overtly or consciously--but let it rest there, so it informs the scene or can be accessed intuitively. This can be applied to poetry, of course, to life, and, I am hoping, to finding that misplaced Coleman jug, green and white, that would be handy on hot summer days for ice water when my husband is working on a roof.

Where is that thing?

Because of all the vagina talk on Facebook and Comedy Central (where I like to get my news), I almost called this blog entry "Lady Parts." That might be dangerous for my online reputation (I heard an NPR ad for Reputation, a new service to protect that--my online reputation, not my vagina--driving back from the pool this morning...and there you see the potential problem), but my point here is that women need to be able to protect their own vaginas, privately and politically, and to vote for people who will support that and help with that, and I'm going to speak up for that relentlessly. Also, I want to be who I am at all times.

And, speaking of lady parts, summer is a good time to stay up to date with health maintenance. Mammogram achieved this morning, hair barely dry from lap swimming and washing the chlorine out of it! (Men can get breast cancer, too, so be alert, everyone.) New machine, less uncomfortable, got to talk books with my technician! Peachy!

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I forgot to credit Jonathan Koch for the Bowl of Peaches with Grapes, so here I am again. I hope he doesn't mind being in a blog post with lady parts in it. Please buy his painting so he will forgive me.