A Poem for Tuesday

Here's a Dylan Thomas classic along with a photo just taken of my back yard. You are fighting well and hard, O Winter. You know your time is short.






Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And it goes on

The snow has melted in my yard just in time for . . . another snowstorm. That's right! Accuweather proudly predicts 12.2 inches over the next three days. Yippee. I am losing my sense of humor. You may be forced to read Grandma Malmberg scrapbook poems everyday in a sort of "spring dance" if you will.

I was listening to that cutie Jean Chatzky on her XM talk show today talk about how sad she felt for her little daffodils because they'd had a hail storm where ever it is she lives. "In March!" she cried indignantly. I assume she felt March was too late for a hail storm. It would be right on time by my line of thinking.

Sigh.

Okay.

Let's make a list of the positives.

I'm glad I live in Minnesota because:
~ Cold weather prevents the habitation of poisonous snakes and spiders.
~ My automobile will start, run and drive in any type of weather.
~ I can load up on sale sweaters in Puerto Rico and other warm climates.
~ I can load up on summer clothes in Minnesota where the season simply is not long enough to own very many.
~ I do not have to chase Colin around the neighborhood to come in and practice piano. It's too cold and windy to go outside today.
~ I live within two hours of the nation's largest climate controlled mall.
~ I never say, "It's too hot to bake today."
~ I never say, "It's too hot for a coffee today."
~ I have a basement in which to store my junk. In other parts of the country they have to rent storage.
~ Friendly people. You know. For the most part.
~ My family lives here.

Clearly, I need to brainstorm some more on this.

The evacuation

A midnight run was made to pick up s'aughter (I'm trying an apostrophe today. What do you think?) Shelby from her dorm room in Moorhead. The river is about to crest about five blocks from her campus. She'd been a hard working little sandbagger, but everyone from that area has been evacuated. Big Daddy and my dad, Mr. News, made the trip up after Brent finished playing with his lounge band in -- of all places -- a lounge. (I exaggerate. It's a very nice wine bar.)

I think there was relief on Shelby's part along with a small feeling of abandoning the ship. I say if the ship's sewage has been turned off, it's time to jump. S'on (That doesn't work as well.) Jeremy is reported to have said through gritted teeth that he was not leaving. He lives on the Fargo side away from the river. His area hasn't been evacuated and, I imagine, this is the time to be making those big part-time bucks at his job at Fleet Farm.

It's a hard thing to write about the flood from where I sit. As you know, I tend to go for the cheap laugh, but there's nothing terribly funny about people losing their homes and businesses.

So maybe I'll just be quiet today.

The Very Big Mall

Friends and loved ones, it snowed today. Yippee. There's a nice little covering out there in the yard where yesterday I looked out and felt hopeful for spring.

And as we always say, "A snowy day at the Mall of America (MOA)is better than a snowy day at home . . ." or something. Okay, we don't really say anything of the sort, but we did pack up the morning and head for the nation's largest mall.

If there's one thing Minnesota does well, it's malls. Minnesota, and I'm sure you know this, created the fully enclosed -- climate controlled -- mall when Southdale opened in 1956. That's older than Big Daddy! My dad liked to go to Southdale because it's in the neighborhood where he grew up, but I have also spent plenty of time at Ridgedale which was the closest to us and Rosedale which was the closest to my friend Roberta.

My friend Michele took me on my first visit to MOA shortly after it opened in 1992. I had just gotten dis-engaged and had run away the weekend I was supposed to get married. Upon returning home, Michele and I stopped for -- truthfully, I suppose it was cocktails -- when I got home. The Very Big Mall is right across from the airport. I remember standing on the second or third floor overlooking the amusement park thinking, "Wow! This is a very big mall," and the name has stuck with me ever since.

Since we did not take a tropical spring break, we went to MOA today. The boys went on rides and down to the aquarium. We ate lunch. Toddler D and I had our picture taken with Dora the Explorer. I bought shoes I do not need. We stopped at one of the three or four Caribou's in the building. It was a good day.

It's always a good day at MOA. It's always a climate controlled 70 and sunny.

A Poem for Tuesday

Because Colin is on Spring Break this week he's not memorizing a poem, so Grandma Malmberg's scrapbooks win the day with this little gem:

Spring's Magic
Faye Tanner Cool

March is:
mud,
mops,
measles,
cough drops,
snow,
sleet,
sniffles,
wet feet,
soggy woolens,
leaden skies,
no glad sights
for tired eyes.
Then! Everything
comes into focus
With a crocus.

Greetings from the ark

Up in the northwest part of my state the Red River is flooding. My s-daughter (After 15 years, I'm trying to come up with something new. Step daughter seems too Cinderella.) has the day off of college in Moorhead to help with the sandbagging. My parents went to college up there 40+ years ago and I think I recall them saying they did the same thing.

Mother Earth always wins no matter how scientific or electronic or smart we become.

My town is in the pit of where a big glacier melted after the ice age. Many businesses in my community start "Glacial Lakes (something)." Everything is downhill into town. It's very pretty coming down the hill with the lake and the trees; however, it also means that all water runs downhill and into our basements. I don't know anyone who doesn't get water their basement here.

Right now Brent's workshop are is filling up. I was down there with towels, but it's raining so hard I gave up. I keep peeking downstairs to see if I need to move something out of the way of the water. I'm going to need to take my laundry pile in hand here in the next couple of hours.

. . . but I suppose I need to do that anyway.

Big Birthday, Big Man

It's Big Daddy Brent's Big Birthday today, and although I don't wish to make you feel nauseous, I can't let the day go by without bragging on him a little bit.

My husband has more musical talent in his pinkie than I have in my whole body. There is no instrument he can't play and his voice is gorgeous. Yet, the beautiful thing about it is, he has this amazing ability to use them to bless other people rather than call attention to himself. Even those who perform with him, no matter their talent, feel better about what they can do with him.

I'm terribly biased about this.

He is an amazing dad. You know I call him Big Daddy because he has four children aged 23 to 2. That is some BIG parenting. All of his children favor him. (Just nod, Shelby, you don't have to agree.) All of them trust him. All of them look to him for approval and guidance. In a culture where "fathering" is not really given it's proper due, Brent is an example. It hasn't always been easy for him. Jeremy and Shelby lived apart from us. Autism brings a certain set of challenges for Colin. Daniel has come at a time when he felt past parenting a toddler. He rises to the occasion with each kid.

I'm terribly biased about this as well.

He is the husband for me. No one understands me better. No one can explain me to me better. (Do you follow this?) No one has patience for me. No one has fought for me the way he has and does.

I am the MOST biased about this.

He loves God. He loves his kids. He loves me. He . . . well, he feels strongly about his work.

Happy birthday, Brent. Here's to more adventure with you!