Saturday Night Ramblings
I sat with my mom tonight and we watched "Dying Young" on tv. My mom is sure not young; she'll be 86 on Monday. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her nestled into my couch, this tiny woman who daily is sort of compressing toward her middle. I have to keep taking the hems up on her slacks and finding ways to let out the waist bands. I think to myself -- she is dying. She's not sick, but she is old. She is just waiting for it to happen. And I am here waiting with her.

We are all dying. From the moment we're born we begin to die. Tonight I think about that, the wake I went to the other night, my life as an undertaker's daughter, living above the funeral chapels as a kid. Our lives are bound to cycles, circadian, seasonal, menstrual....and all of the minor and major violences that go along with the process of everything always dying.

l remember a time in my life -- actually not that long ago -- when not having a date on Saturday night and admitting that one didn't have a date on a Saturday night -- was DEATH! I obviously have embarked upon another life's cycle.

When I turned 50, I threw myself a big party and invited lots of friends. At one point I made them each stand up and say something nice about me because I'd rather them do it then when I could enjoy the compliments rather than have them do it at my wake. I loved hearing the funny and nice and irreverent and kind and outrageous things they said. And then I had a friend who's into shamanic stuff do a ritual for me to symbolize my entrance into a more "wise" time of my life. Well, nice try. I'm still waiting for that time to come.

I live surrounded by people who are waiting to die. Oh they're not just sitting and waiting -- they play pinochle and bridge and billiards; they go for walks and sit and chat and complain a lot; some even still drive -- although most of them shouldn't. The apartments are upscale and there's a new town park being built right next door. Maybe if I were 80 I wouldn't mind living here. There are even small community garden "plots." I wrote a poem about the one I had last summer. It began "They gave me a garden the size of a grave..." Actually, it wasn't as depressing as it sounds. I went on to write that "I filled it with raucous reminders of sense.............."

And I guess tonight I sit here trying to make some sense out of all of this. And all of this blogging over the past few days in connection with Marek, Gary, and Mike about what this is all about. There's energy being created here, energy to power new cycles, maybe new poems. And there is no violence. There is a lot of heart.

Don't Call Me Madame
I had a interesting reaction to Gary Turner addressing me (in a comment) as Madame K. I remember the first time a store clerk called me "Ma'am," and I turned around to see if there was some other lady he might be addressing. There wasn't. I know that I make a point of my age (I'm on a quest for "elders" among bloggers), but, in truth I prefer to be thought of as just one of the blogger gang. Aunt Owwee did put me on to someone older than I am -- Ava at From The Edge, and I'm adding her to my blogroll.

OK. So now I'll start making my incredible chicken soup. Yes Sir!

Time to Link to This
Every other blogger I know has linked to this great "Blogger Manifesto" that Chris Pirillo posted a while ago and has recently edited a little. But I'll bet some of my non-blogger friends who check my site every once in while might find it interesting as well, so here it is in kalilily time. Actually, I don't egosurf (#10) because I don't know how, and I would have other names in #12. But otherwise, yeah.
1. Life is uncensored.
2. My blog does not capture the full me.
3. Judge my thoughts, but not me.
4. If you don't like what you see, look elsewhere.
5. I love talking about my life.
6. I love writing about other people's lives.
7. I will post whenever I feel like posting.
8. I don't have to blog every meme.
9. You don't have to agree with everything I say.
10. I egosurf Daypop, Google, and Blogdex nightly.
11. I share what I want to share.
12. I like linking to Dave, Doc, Evan, and Cam.
13. Blogging is theraputic.
14. Pictures of myself are not obligatory.
15. I visit every site in my blogroller regularly.
16. I won't post for the sake of posting.
17. I have a life outside of blogging.
18. I have registered my blogging tool(s).
19. I may criticize other bloggers, not harass them.
20. I have the right to revise a post.
21. When blogging becomes a chore, I'll quit doing it.
22. I've given something back to the blogging community.
23. If I want to complain about something, I will.
24. If I want to praise something, I will.
25. I am not the best blogger on the planet.
26. I don't have to explain myself to you.

My Morning Cup-a Blog
When I get up in the morning, the first thing I do is turn on my computer and check my email and blog comments. I guess that's a pattern leftover from my former office job, where I also used to spend some time in the a.m. checking in with everyone and starting topical discussions that we would continue throughout the day. That's another activity that blogging has replaced. It was very frustrated this morning when Blogger wouldn't accept my posts -- threw my whole day off. I actually got some dusting done, which I had to do because my allergies are giving me terrible sinusitis. (Are there people out there who actually dust regularly? I don't even vacuum regularly!)