I love short weeks. It is Monday, but it feels like Thursday. I am trying to be productive, but it is difficult. I did better yesterday- I made four soups and some rolls...(the rolls didn't fare so well) AND I am about half-way finished with my Christmas shopping. However, I never did learn to knit well enough to make scarves for people. C'est la vie. I have been reading a lot of Anne Sexton poetry lately, so I am going to share one of my faves avec vous. I love that nutty broad- she's so crazy, she makes me feel normal- well, maybe just not so crazy. kisses. ~G
(ingles y espagnol)

In celebration of my uterus (Anne Sexton)
En celebración de mi útero
Everyone in me is a bird.
I am beating all my wings.
They wanted to cut you outbut they will not.
They said you were immesurably emptybut you are not.
They said you were sick unto dying
but they were wrong.
You are singing like a school girl.
You are not tom.
Sweet weight,in celebration of the woman I am
and of the soul of the woman I am
and of the central creature and its delight
I sing for you. I dare to live.
Hello, spirit. Hello, cup.
Fasten, cover.
Cover that does contain.
Hello to the soil of the tields.
Welcome, roots.
Each cell has a life.
There is enough here to please a nation.
It is enough that the populace own these goods
Any person, any commonwealth would say of it,
"It is good this year that we may plant again
and think forward to a harvest.
A blight had been forecast
and has been cast out.
"Many women are singing together of this:
one is in a shoe factory cursing the machine,
one is at the aquarium tending a seal,
one is dull at the wheel of her Ford,
one is at the toll gate collecting,
one is tying the cord of a calf in Arizona,
one is straddling a cello in Russia,
one is shifting pots on the stove in Egypt,
one is painting her bedroom walls moon color,
one is dying but remembering a breakfast,
one is stretching on her mat in Thailand,
one is wiping the ass of her child,
one is staring out the window of a trainin the middle of Wyoming and
one is anywhere and some are everywhere and
all seem to be singing, a
lthough some can notsing a note.
Sweet weight,
in celebration of the woman I am
let me carry a ten-foot scarf,
let me drum for the nineteen-year-olds,
let me carry bowls for the offering(if that is my part).
Let me study the cardiovascular tissue,
let me examine the angular distance of meteors,
let me suck on the stems of flowers(if that is my part).
Let me make certain tribal figures(if that is my part).
For this thing the body needs
let me sing,
for the supper,
for the kissing,
for the correct
yes.