October 25th, 2011

Ginger1991

Home?

I very nearly do not know how to use this any more.

I have to POKE it with a pointed stick.....because I know
it has recorded sooooo much.

I know what it is, has been, became......
and weirdly enough has become again?

It is, a decade of leaves turning...
it is what I loved about it FIRST, again.

No one is looking.
I mean...when I started writing, no one was looking.
I didn't know how to lock things, I just wrote.
It was my "Talking Journal" shy, sly, this PLACE.

You talked back,
for the first time.
I thought on a page.....
and sometimes
people talked back!

Mark, you were the first,
the first to respond on LJ.
Pokee?

come on, G, remember how to do that?
the html that was necessary?

I don't, I can't. The html I learned on a toshiba laptop,
and then on the MAC that Zutroy gave me???

I used to keep the instructions written and taped above my machine.
So I could do the stuff to make my words and an occasional picture possible.

I've lost my LJ skills.
Ginger1991

Ah yes....This Place.

It's beautiful outside. The wind is blowing
and I almost think I can hear a drum circle.
Lord love this silly town...

Last night I was feeling helpless, and made a mad gesture to the universe.
Just something small I knew I could do,
but that might remain forever unknown and anonymous?

I wrote a letter to Fountainhead Apartments
describing the amazing job that my Apartment Manager Marsha Garza has done
since working here. The place, my Tree House, is once again up for sale
and she has been transferred to another sight.

I wrote it knowing the people at the other end of the line
probably no longer had anything what-so-ever
to do with her further career goals,
but I didn't have any other way to thank her.

The person who got the letter was touched enough by it
to find a way to forward it to her.

She called me this morning and thanked me.
That is not what I expected. And frankly
I am impressed.
Wildly so.

There is still so much good in the most common of moments.
In the actions of each of us.

The load bearing beams of my Universe are collapsing around me.
The individuals I have counted on my whole life
to provide structure and support to my very understanding of existence are...
leaving me.
Are leaning on me.
Somehow I am still standing.

There is so much to learn. I have so much to learn.
But I am coming to understand
that what will cause me to be able to make it through...
is to be the person these people taught me to be.

Joan, the world is less now without you.
It simply is.
But your strength and joy and humour...
your overwhelming generosity of spirit?
You shared that with me.
You shared it with me, I will strive to do the same.

You beautiful little round faced blonde,
in your 'Channel no 5'!
Den Mother to all,
Mother to my Eagle Scout.
Mind like a razor. You missed nothing.
You laughed easily.
You loved Star Trek even more, if that is possible, than I.
You could bake anything, sew anything, FIX anything...
Everyone who ever met you, loved you.
Instantly, loved you.
Your heart, your home, your mind...always open.

Thank you.
I am so grateful to have known you.

You taught me to 'Prosper'.