Journal 2023

 


Everyday journal stuff, documenting my passage through this thing called life.

What is and what may never be Sunday, December 31, 2023

The eve of New Year's Eve Dec. 30, 2023

Birthday wishes Dec. 27. 2023

Home alone for the holidays Dec. 26, 2013

13 Willow Lane Dec. 26, 2023

Visiting the graves Dec. 25, 2023

Poetry Journal Dec. 17, 2023

Positive omens? Dec. 24, 2023

All we can do Dec. 23, 2023

Ending up in the Church Yard Dec. 22, 2023

The simple life Dec. 21, 2023

Hawk over Hoboken Dec. 20, 2023

Depending on what happens next Dec. 19, 2023

Where is Santa’s Sleigh when I need it Dec. 18, 2023

Back ache and black outs Dec. 16, 2023

A questionable Christmas Dec. 15, 2023

Kevin Dec. 12, 2023

The more things change Dec. 11, 2023

My favorite view Dec. 10, 2023

The Ghosts of Christmases past Dec. 9, 2023

Greener Pastures? Dec. 8. 2023

Pearl Harbor Day Dec. 7, 2023

Journal Dec. 6, 2023

Journal Dec. 5, 2023

Journal Dec. 4, 2023

poetry journal Dec. 3, 2023

The cat's meow Dec. 3, 2023

Cat's out of the bag Dec. 2, 2023

Poetry Journal Nov. 18, 2023

Doomed November 17, 2023

Plagiarism strikes again Wednesday, November 15, 2023

Home Monday, October 30, 2023

Indian Summer Sunday, October 29, 2023

Locked out Thursday, October 26, 2023

Cutting up October 18, 2023

All things must pass Friday, October 20, 2023

Sharing her experiences October 17, 2023

Natural law October 18, 2023

Written in sand October 15, 2023

That special kind of rain Saturday, October 14, 2023

Pineapple instead of horses October 13, 2023

The watermelon caper Oct. 12, 2023

The rain that never came October 11, 2023

Out of her shell at last October 11, 2023

On the road again October 10, 2023

yearly rituals Oct. 9, 2023

In a fog Oct. 8, 2023

Leaving it all behind Oct. 7, 2023

To the sea Oct. 6, 2023

Embracing autumn Oct. 5, 2023

Not rocket man Wednesday, October 4, 2023

More stable today Oct. 4, 2023

Memory Lane Tuesday, October 3, 2023

The basic pattern Oct. 3, 2023

Laundry day in Secaucus October 2, 2023

Tuck the cat Monday, October 2, 2023

Death becomes us Oct. 1, 2023

My one time hero Sept. 28, 2023

In the duck soup Sept. 26, 2023

Synchronicity strikes again September 25, 2023

Ships that pass in the night Sept 24, 2023

Poetry Journal Jan. 5, 2023

Poetry Journal Jan. 4, 2023

Journal Jan. 4, 2023

Poetry Journal Jan. 3, 2023

Journal Jan. 3, 2023

Poetry Journal Jan. 2 2023

Journal Jan. 2, 2023

Jan. 1, 2023




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The more things change Dec. 11, 2023

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    The rain came in spurts as I made my way to Secaucus for my usual Sunday laundry. I don’t always go to Secaucus, sometimes returning to the old neighborhood in Passaic -- as I will likely do next Sunday when I visit the grave of Peggy, and the graves of my ancestors in the other Lodi cemeteries, dating back to John the Baptist Sarti, who arrived here just after the Civil War. But most weeks, I don’t want to travel that far as was the case yesterday, when I parked near the laundromat, put my laundry into the machines, then headed off to the Dunkin a block away for coffee, a Dukin I briefly worked for after I got fired from the Garfield Dunkin just before my wedding in October 1990 (a time when I had four part time jobs, three of them at different Dunkins, and a fourth as a cleaner for a firm that manufactured elixirs straight out of the 1800s. My history with Secaucus goes back to the 1960s when Hank and I used to pass through it on our way to New York City, at a time when the
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Positive omens? Dec. 24, 2023

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      In a week heavily endowed with omens, I thought for certain seeing the funeral procession on our way to Asbury Park posed a dark day ahead. After the amazing omen from our Thanksgiving trip (the whales), I hoped for nothing to counter this positive vibe. The trip down went smoothly, with the except of a few whacko drivers pretending to be Indy 500 racers, and we parked in our usual spot near the top of Asbury where it interacts with Cookman and took our usual stroll, peering into the old merry-go-round house before passing the fake Christmas tree of lights, the Empress Hotel (with its rainbow street crossing) and down the board walk from the Casino to the Coliseum. Even though we had arrived late, the boardwalk was largely empty – although there were a few groups of people on the beach, foolishly standing on the slick jetty stones to pose for pictures. Even inside the coliseum, the only crowd was at the coffee shop, and even this was less well-attended than we expected
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Natural law October 18, 2023

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    I saw the pigeon after I had put out stale bread for the birds to feed on. He looked healthy, although he clearly had troubles since when the other pigeons flew off when I came into the yard, she did not. She was either injured or young, but she could not fly, walking around on the concrete in search of food while the others later congregated under the feeder where small birds dumped seed on the ground where they could feed. I spread some seed near the crippled bird only to have the flock of healthier birds swarm down on it, stealing whatever seed it could reach. Worse still, the two young cats that come and go from our yard took notice of the pigeon and began to stalk it. I had seen these cats hunting smaller birds a few days earlier, managing to catch one, which they tortured (played with) for some time before mercifully murdering it. I did not want them to do this to an even more helpless bird. I shooed the cats away. Eventually, I took up the bird, put it inside a c
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