Thursday Morning

After it is gone, what will it look like?

Puesta del Sol

by Carlos Guierrez Torrejon

This morning at 8:00 Luis and the other workers from the tree removal company began to "take down" my beloved redwood tree [the one on the north side of my house] that has stood [with majesty] right next to the downstairs little room under the stairs for thirty five years. We planted this tree two years after we moved into this house, when Brandon was three and Shanan was one. For six years my sweet Isidore patrolled [ran over to and around] this tree many times each day to check for squirrels. It will take two days to down the tree and remove the stump.

I can see this redwood tree's branches and its trunk from my bed when I first wake up and while I sit at my desk with my coffee in the early morning. I can see its trunk and branches through the tiny windows above the fireplace when I visit with my family and friends [and when I teach my Salon class] in my living room. I can see its trunk [only] from the little room under the stairs when I watch TV at night. And I can see its branches [only] when I sit on the window seat [with Isidore] and look north. [It is from this spot on the window seat that my sweet Isidore watched [daily] for squirrels jumping from one branch to another, from this tree to the one in the corner over by the sidewalk.] Its branches rustle and tap the windows and the sides of the house all hours of the day and night. When it is windy, these same branches strike the side of the house as if with a punishing beating. This redwood tree is too close to the house. It has grown so large [seemingly just this last spring from the heavy rains in December and January] that it is now pressed against the side of my house and groans with sorrow and displeasure from the slightest wind. This redwood tree is too close to my house.

But of course. There will be more light inside my house.

Tuesday morning

Agua de lluvia

by Carlos Gutierrez Torrejon

A lovely imagining of the sky. A color of brown seemingly made of blue and grey. Orderly raindrops abound. And a lone bucket standing front and center with its captured raindrops that have joined together and poured forth. A tiny puddle at its side.

Needing order today. Needing to think about things. Needing to write about my thinking. Needing to see what the thoughts look like. And who they belong to. Needing to give them order so I can gather them together in a sturdy brown-blue-grey fashion of my own making so they [I] can withstand the elements.

Sunday

Arboleda

by Carlos Gutierrez Torrejon*

It's Sunday. And Goose and I will be around the house and in the yard mostly. I will do lots of reading of my students' logs about Rosenblatt and planning for our classes next week. And then, in the late late afternoon, I hope to take Goose for a walk on the fire trail. Maybe it will be the kind of beautiful up there on the trail that Carlos Gutierrez Torrejon depicts in his paintings of Cadiz, Espana. *[on flickr]

Goose and I had a busy busy day yesterday. First my friend Oshinomi [who I have known since the second grade] came by at around noon. We visited in kitchen [as is our tradition] with Goose close by. We had coffee and Meyer Lemon wafers that my dear friend Luporini brought by the day before when she visited us. [Luporini and I had coffee and lemon treats in the kitchen [as is our tradition, as well]. Then my friend Arlyn came by at 2:00. [She used to live across the street from me. Back when when Shanan was born.] We talked in the kitchen [as we used to do] for a while and then we went for a lovely walk in the neighborhood with GooseDog. [No coffee and lemon treats for us, just water.] We walked, by way of Belrose, to the top of Derby Street. Then over to Domingo so I could get a pound of coffee at Peet's. From there, we walked to The Uplands, went up the stairs to Hillcrest, and meandered our way down to Claremont, over to College Avenue, and finally, up Webster Street. Home. [I love love walking with GooseDog and a friend.] After Arlyn left, I straightened up the kitchen. [This wonderful and beautiful kitchen of mine.]

Oh yes, right after we got home, I spoke with Karen, the breeder in South Dakota, about the puppy named Ian. She and I talked about him and two other dogs, Angel and Atom. Angel is exceptionally smart and has freckles. Atom has freckles, too. Thousands of them. He has already been trained, which is good. I am thinking about getting one of these sweet sweet and cute puppies. I am worried about not having Isidore..and having another dog. [More about this later.]

Lots to think about and lots to do today.

In the kitchen GooseDog

Carretera

This scene was painted by an artist from Cadiz, España who creates beautiful and sometimes ironic images on moleskine acuarelas. He posts them regularly on his flickr page. As he attests: "Creo que he perdido un poco de practica." I enjoy keeping up with his paintings.

Take a look:

Atajo de locos