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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Carol who wrote (17725)	2/13/1998 1:13:00 PM
From: Grainne	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 108807

Hi, Carol!! Gee, I tried to look at your beautiful valentine url, and it worked the first time I clicked, and a very happy heart danced in different colors. Then Netscape did NOT like where I was, and would not show me any more pictures. I am not sure at all my problems are fixed, so I'd better not push anything by doing much exploring. At least I saw one, though!! I read a lot of poetry when I couldn't play on the computer, particularly this woman poet from Northern Ireland, Angela Greene. It has been wet and cold for way too long here, and I think it is beginning to affect me pretty seriously. In any event, I really identified with this poem: Blues This room smacks of a familiar mood. Stale curtains droop; the corners dim in a conspiracy of winter accomplices-- those brash magazines thrown among the poetry and hardbacks; the promises, promises of holiday brochures sink into a wreckage of bumf. The wardrobe wallows in its own mid- life crisis. Nothing fits on coathangers or in drawers. The heavy door gapes on the sad bulge of misfit, imppulse buys and, worn once, a ball-gown slumped in a purple-dark sulk. Outdoors, the heaped sky holds no hope. Beneath the smog the world is grey on grey. Yet, it must be Spring--there, by the path, a crocus thrusts, and something pernickety as instinct shifts and warns it is time to straighten up. To untack the cobwebs, push the windows wide. Let in the magic that floats from the tangle of the beech, where, in the queer light, a blackbird lords it in full throat. I have no idea what "bumf" means--I guess it is an Irish slang word--but I liked the poem, and oh how I hope spring is here, even though the weathermen say El Nino will not go away until April. The cherry and plum trees are bright with pink and purple blooms, and when I peek out from my umbrella they are stunningly beautiful against the rich, varied greens the rain has brought, and the many colors of grey in the wet sky. Is the snow getting old and slushy and muddy there yet, or is it still sparkling and glistening?