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Edges of Knowledge


Thursday 2003-02-06     9:10am
-
I am scheduled to see my doctor at 1pm.

On Saturday last--
by certified mail in a small white box--
Janice's cremains.

On Monday last (or Tuesday perhaps)--
in the box for my mail--
my title for the 1998 sunset red 4-dr Metro.

On Sunday last--
in the priority mail package I finally opened--
the Christmas presents from my friends at MFAAA.
They were so beyond.
God favor those friends.

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday.

I have made a crude shrine
for Janice's cremains.
They remain in their box.


Friday 2003-02-07     11:53am
-
Also earlier this week
the new garbage units arrived
as well as hand-delivered welcome notices.
I now am having trouble finding
the original invoice for this Redman home.

Much rain last night:
enough that some seeped in
at the bottom of the damaged wall
in the master bedroom.
I placed some towels there temporarily.


Saturday 2003-02-08     10:01pm
-
Yesterday
on the west side of my place
were nearly 2 dozen warblers.
Today
on the east side
were 3 dozen or more
(in their soft migration)
attracted to the tree there
and its myriad berries.


Saturday 2003-02-15  
-
Wednesday
on the east side of my place
were 4 dozen plus warblers
when the taxi arrived
to take me to the bank;
and then from the post office
back to the bank,
and then to CFOP,
and then later back home.

This whole week
has been a busy week,
more about which on another day.


Today is Saturday April 5th, 2003, 7:47pm.
-
This morning was blessed
with several recoveries
of medical information
I am in need of.

This afternoon was marred
by transportation difficulties
and by the presence at my door
(after, once again, a taxi
got me home from the grocery store)
of one of those black mosquitoes--
this the first of this season--
which had so plagued me last season,
and which I could not prevent 
from making an entrance,
and which bit me at least twice
before I was able to kill it.


Tuesday 2003-04-29
-
All-in-all another too-hectic, flickering day;
yet a day often visited by soft manifestations
of God: the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit
that made this ever too-wrongly prideful,
too self-pitying blotch of dough
rise and take notice--now
does that make any sense?--no!--good.

I will not tell all the stories,
just the final one--sort of.
The little red car I sold Saturday
came gently back, and the woman
driver, among other good things,
returned my license tag.



-
Brian A. J. Salchert