Monthly Archives: September 2015

Day 4 of 9

Today was Friday, and the last day of the week to cut time. I started at 9 a.m. and cooked until 11 a.m. In which time I got the hot case filled. And got chickens started.

After 11 a.m. I was tasked to work in the freezer. We have coats and something which looks like a snow suit to use in the freezer. I managed to get things in the freezer tidied up and a pallet of freight worked to the floor, or stored on the shelf. Our freezer isn’t very big so we have to continue to make sure we move freight so we have room.

I only have two more days of working in the deli. Then I will be working in produce all the time.

Tomorrow I have to start of 5 a.m. I don’t think I need to tell you how I feel about being awake at 5 a.m. It isn’t good.

Day 3 of 9

Today I cooked for much of the day. They called and asked me to go in early. But I ended up going at my regular time. It was a pretty basic day. Cook, CVP (discount) and remove food from the hot table. Step one, step two, step three, step one, step two, step three. But the last couple times when working in the kitchen I have been forgetting about pizzas. And I did so again today.

After 2 I zoned the 97 wall. I took a lunch, I stocked some ice and then covered a co-workers lunch. Before filling some holes on the 97 wall. I wish I had gotten more done. But I didn’t have a lot of time today.

Tomorrow I am back in the kitchen cooking. Well, there is a chance I will be put on the 97 wall to stock or sent to work the freezer.

Developing a style…

So watch this:

It was one of those magical days at the tail end of summer. The light was golden, the wind was cooling and you were beautiful. I loved you then with a such a depth of feeling and longing. We sat together on a rock, holding each other and I felt close to you. There was someone in my arms who I would never want to be out of my arms. A soft and amazing beauty with an intelligent mind and courageous heart. I wanted you to be there always in my heart. I wanted for every moment the rest of my life to be the moment we had on the rock.


The boat pulled away. I didn’t watch you disappear. I took my seat and cried. It wan’t forever. But it was. I was going to see you again. But I knew I wasn’t. And you wouldn’t love me. The air was cold. I was alone. Starting a long trip. After coming with such hopes. I sailed off. Into the darkness. Hopeless and alone. I had never been more alone. Empty as the void of space. Dark as the otherside of the moon. It has been a bad weekend. And the ending wasn’t present. But the ending was clear.

Okay, see the style trick I did there? Thoughts?

Day 2 of 9

It is 3 a.m. and it is bedtime. But also time to post a quick note. I have done a good job recently of posting and I don’t want to break my streak.

I had to close the deli. It went well. I went over on my time and I started early. I will have to cut time tomorrow and the next day. But I got the special cleaning project done.

It really was an uneventful day. Just cooking and cleaning. They asked me to stock some milk, but I wasn’t able because I was the only person in the deli.

I am curious what my next schedule will look like, if I will be in produce 100 percent or a couple days in deli. The store manager asked me about working the 97 wall today. I hadn’t worked it because I was cooking. Maybe if I put pressure on my Assistant Manager and keep up with the store manager I can push my plan to take of the 97 wall through.

Oh, I went to the new store. It is a good store. Close to my house and open 24 hours, so I will no doubt be shopping there from time to time.

Discovering words

Anne of Green Gables, she waltzed into my life with Tennyson. Though I didn’t know who Tennyson was at the time.

It was the Lady of Shallot. The words were an escape for Anne. Oh Anne with an E. Who was so strong willed. And I was like Anne. I tried to be strong willed and often felt alone. Felt like I needed an escape.

“She had heard a whisper say…”

Even the poem speaks of the power of words. And it made my excited. Like I knew a secret. A feeling of power at a basic level. Like Anne I had so little power in my own life as a child.

“A curse is on her if she stay…”

I watched the series as a child at my great-aunts. We watched movies with LaVonne who had a huge movie collection. She would rent movies and copy them to tape. She made a catalog of all the movies. There were a lot of them. This was back in the days of VHS and Beta.

In fact I think I recall watching cartoons on a pre-tape video disc/cartridge format.

Anne was the girl of my dreams. And the aspiration of my soul.

“There she weaves by night and day,
a magic web with colors gay…”

I don’t think I was old enough to read books. But there was a part of me which took to heart Anne’s escape.

Anne only reads a short part of the poem in the series. Once at the beginning. When she should be minding other duties. Later in the series she reads it again in a re-enactment of key scene in the poem.

But in neither part is the tragic end made clear. The Lady of Shallot dies. It was only years later when I finally read the full poem.

Movies were an escape for me growing up. I remember watching them with LaVonne, and eating pudding. Often falling asleep during the movies. But it was a safe place. A place where I could rest.

As I have grown books have become more of the safe place. Though when I am tired, I still enjoy a good movie. Sometimes you are just too tired to keep your eyes open. And reading is a serious activity for me.

In later years I met Moriah. She broadened my reading escape. I met the writing of her favorite poet. Leonard Cohen.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro’ the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look’d down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack’d from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott.

(This was another exercise from the Room to Write book.)

The Lady of Shallot

Part I.

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro’ the field the road runs by
To many-tower’d Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro’ the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow-veil’d
Slide the heavy barges trail’d
By slow horses; and unhail’d
The shallop flitteth silken-sail’d
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower’d Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers “‘Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott.”

Part II.

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro’ a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair’d page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower’d Camelot;
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often thro’ the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
“I am half-sick of shadows,” said
The Lady of Shalott.

Part III.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A redcross knight for ever kneel’d
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter’d free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle-bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon’d baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn’d like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro’ the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;
On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow’d
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash’d into the crystal mirror,
“Tirra lirra,” by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro’ the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look’d down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack’d from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott.

Part IV.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale-yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower’d Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river’s dim expanse –
Like some bold seër in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance –
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right –
The leaves upon her falling light –
Thro’ the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken’d wholly,
Turn’d to tower’d Camelot;
For ere she reach’d upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
A corse between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross’d themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, “She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott.”

Day 1 of 9

Today went well. I worked in the deli. After starting the day doing some cooking, I worked the 97 Wall. Actually, I went to the cooler and processed freight on carts which hadn’t been put away in at least four days. Everyone has been busy. My department manager was asked to go to another store which is opening tomorrow and assist them.

So I processed the freight. Then I covered a co-workers lunch and I started to work some freight to the floor. But I had to jump on the register for a while. I did get some of it worked before going home.

Tomorrow I will be closing the deli. Which I have not done in a while. I am not looking forward to closing. If I can there is a cleaning project I want to accomplish.

Scott Walker drops out of 2016 race –

Scott Walker announced Monday he is dropping out of the GOP presidential race.

Source: Scott Walker drops out of 2016 race –

Walker wasn’t my favorite. But he could have made a good candidate and I think he would have done a decent job as president. This campaign is being destroyed by Donald Trump and the herd of also-rans in the race. Some of them are running again, which is insane. If you understand insanity as repeating the same task and hoping for a different outcome. Yes, I mean you Huckabee and Santorum.

There are still too many people in the race. I would still hope for Huckabee and Santorum to be the next two out of the race.

The Shoes

The shoes weren’t clean. She didn’t want them clean. They still diffused a slight odor of sweat into the air. It was her sweat.

As a child she dreamed of being a dancer. Like other girls dream of being a princess. And she was a dancer. Her life was dance.

Now she shuffles from bed to toilet to bed to the big couch in front of the TV. Her legs are sore and her ankles swollen. For over 60 years she danced. Now she shuffles.

Every morning though she passes those shoes. In her mind her body is young. She is still a dancer. With the scent of sweat, the images come back to her. In her mind she is dancing again. She is not old. She doesn’t have a walker. She does not shuffle.

But life was good. Those shoes are the last of many. Many shoes on many stages in countless plays and musicals. The world once so big, was her stage. And the music played for her alone.

Now her world is smaller. One small bed. A hallway and a small bathroom. A kitchen/den/dining room combination. Once she danced across continents. Now she shuffles across rooms.

(This was written using a photo of dance shoes as a prompt. In the photo a map was sewn into the soles of the feet. It wasn’t until after writing this, I saw the maps.)