Tag: Home

STARTING OUT BEHIND ONCE AGAIN

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The mind dances here and there, rarely in a linear fashion. So what’s on my mind these days? How about counting on these fingers?

~*~

  1. This month’s annual perusal of seed catalogs leads to opening our shoeboxes of seeds themselves – counting and inspecting all the packets remaining from previous seasons. Makes for quite an impressive array, even if I’m not the principal gardener. Just listen to all that considered discussion and dreaming on the part of the actual planters, the mother and daughter and their friends.
  2. Even in retirement, I require a timetable – a to-do list – some sense of priorities and direction, in addition to routine. What does that say about me?
  3. From spam email: “Man Snake Enlargement.” Also, “Man Pole.” (Um, like a May Pole?) English terms pale by comparison.
  4. My Motets move in poetic processes that largely lack images. It’s a curious twist for me.
  5. At a holiday gathering with friends and family, one of the tots picks up my Peterson bird guide. Claudia intercepts it, opens it, and, as if it’s an illustrated children’s text, begins inventing a story. “This is Emily. And what’s this duck doing? It’s FLYING! And this one …” Anyone else think there’s another book waiting to take off there?
  6. Taking a few risks, looking at the proposal and rules. If I fail, it’s more on my own terms.
  7. Memory, as counterpoint and harmony for the present. Or maybe dissonance and discord.
  8. Still can’t take in the news.
  9. Parasite: a freeloader, usually fatal. Lives off the work of others. Seldom demonstrates gratitude or other qualities of good upbringing.
  10. What happens when we lose our sense of mission?

~*~

Fennel seeds dusted in snow.
Fennel seeds dusted in snow. Our herb garden at rest.

 

SQUIRREL TAXI

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

who knows exactly when it happened
that he realized he held more in common
with squirrels than any of his colleagues?

he couldn’t quite fly, no matter how much
he admired birds, and had climbed
enough trees as a kid to nearly qualify

still, he had little taste for nuts, other than cashews,
unless you mean a strange people,
and he rarely raked fallen leaves

maybe it was all a matter of some vague sense
he didn’t exactly belong in this apartment or house,
except by clandestinely rearranging his peculiar insulation

maybe it was simply a nickname
for the way he rummaged frenziedly in search
of some missing item suddenly remembered

he would dash, then, in and out of the trap
in and out of the trap and, with a snap,
wonder where he was being carried

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

 

THIS MATTER OF HOME

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Our Advent readings last year have had me reflecting on the concept of home and how deeply we, as humans, yearn for such a place. Or should I say state of comfort.

It also has me admitting how elusive it’s been for me. Our childhood home was never truly comfortable, physically or emotionally. And in the moves afterward, I often felt more that I’d established a suitable base camp while anticipating the next leap forward. Home, in other words, was always over the horizon.

The closest I’d felt was the craftsman-style house we bought in the Rust Belt, but I knew I wouldn’t be living there forever. I was still building my resume, as the phrase goes, working my way up the management ladder.

More than three decades later, I’ve settled into a community that feels right, though I’m very much an outsider. At least, as far as a career goes, I’ve survived into retirement. As for the house? It’s been my address longer than any other, but somehow it still feels not quite solid. No amount of renovation will ever make it quite right, not with its leaky cellar and foundation. But it’s what I have and where I work at what I love to do. The garden’s in place, and then there’s the loft in my barn.

And then there’s family, with the kids now grown and housed elsewhere. Could it be home, then, is wherever my wife’s cooking? At least that points in a state of awareness direction.

As well as an underlying unsettled element in my own psyche.

~*~

My poems on the challenges of renovations, repairs, and relating as a husband are collected as Home Maintenance, a free ebook at Thistle/Flinch editions.

MIND THE RIGHT LIGHTING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

He says it’s one of his least favorite jobs as an electrician, this hanging new lighting fixtures. In an old house, there’s not much wire left in the ceiling to work with. Forget moving around on the ladder. And you’d rather not rip away any plaster if you can help it.

But the results can be so dramatic. Or should we say, illuminating?

~*~

My poems on the challenges of renovations, repairs, and relating as a husband are collected as Home Maintenance, a free ebook at Thistle/Flinch editions.

NOW WE CAN HIDE THE VACUUM CLEANER WITHIN REACH

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Closets seem to be a recent addition to New England housing, and ours is no exception. We long desired to have one on the first floor, someplace to store the vacuum cleaner and brooms, for starters. Yes, the winter coats can hang in the mudroom (that was something this Midwestern native had to learn about, back when).

Mudroom? Definitely no space for a vacuum cleaner there.

And so we slid one in our pantry, when we got to that part of the bathroom project.

~*~

My poems on the challenges of renovations, repairs, and relating as a husband are collected as Home Maintenance, a free ebook at Thistle/Flinch editions.

THIS OLD HOUSE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I used to like the Public Broadcasting System series, back before I bought an old house. Now it’s too painful. Look at all this old wiring, the plumbing problems, the rot and warping, the fact the bulkhead needs replacing. The flaking paint, again. (Bulkhead? Didn’t even know what that was beforehand.)

What else do you want to know about New England?

 ~*~

Home Maintenance 1

For more on my poetry collection and others, click here.

LOOK, WE KNOW WHAT WE MEAN BY A ‘NEW ENGLANDER’ STYLE HOUSE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Around here, if you mention New Englander as a style of house, everybody knows what you mean. Gable end to the street, perhaps a bay window beside the front door, typically two full stories and a usable third floor. Not Greek Revival, except in a stripped-down way with some carpenter gothic touches, and definitely not Colonial Revival. Modest, middle-class – maybe even working class – sometimes even as a duplex.

But try looking it up and the best you can find is an accusation that it’s New Hampshire Realtor BS.

Well, that’s where we live. Ours seems to be from the 1890s.

~*~

My poems on the challenges of renovations, repairs, and relating as a husband are collected as Home Maintenance, a free ebook at Thistle/Flinch editions.

BEYOND THOSE GLOSSY ARCHITECTURAL MAGAZINE PHOTO SPREADS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

More and more, when I look at a dream house, my reaction turns the other direction. Is that where I’d want to live? Who keeps it clean? How do you get truly comfortable? Make a mess? The kitchen, especially, looks like nobody’s used it for anything more than microwaving a frozen entree.

~*~

My poems on the challenges of renovations, repairs, and relating as a husband are collected as Home Maintenance, a free ebook at Thistle/Flinch editions.