Mary Beth Writes

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“She writes …”  I write about what’s interesting to me -- and hopefully to you.

Corona Virus Disease - 2019

Corona Virus Disease-2019  Covid-19

WE HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING QUITE LIKE THIS.

Yes, there was polio when some of us were little … but Thank You, Dr. Salk … the vaccine was invented while we were too small to understand what was going on. I remember being carried in my dad's arms to get a shot at the county courthouse. We stood in a long line of parents bringing in their kids.

The Self-Defense of Fierce Whimsicality

We watched the Nova special about Jeff Bezos and Amazon this week.  Boy, there’s a way to be depressed at our old white men elected officials who are totally NOT up to the challenges of the society in which we live.

 Len sat next to Bezos at a business event in 1997. They talked about my frugality newsletter. Apparently his wealth didn’t rub off on Len and our frugality didn’t rub off on him.

The Error is the Sign of Love

Lewis Hyde wrote a poem entitled “This Error is the Sign of Love” that might suit for Valentines Day.

Read more about Mr. Hyde right here.      

 ....

 

This error is the sign of love,

the crack in the ice where the otters breathe, the tear that saves a man from power, the puff of smoke blown down the chimney one morning, and the

    widower sighs and gives up his loneliness, the lines transposed in the will so the widow must scatter

Waukesha School Board 2/12/2020

This week I attended Waukesha’s School Board meeting. I don’t have anything huge to say, but since many of you are also from Waukesha, let me report a few things.

This is my third time attending WSB. It meets the second Wednesday evening of the month from 7:00PM until about 9:00. Mary Duerson and I are always there now.

Six Inches of Snow

I grew up outside Ludington Michigan. My parents owned property bounded by a creek, the river it emptied into, the rim of a woods, and a dirt road.  It was a beautiful and I would rather have my memories of that lovely place than almost other inheritance else I can think of.  A kid who knows what water sounds like as it babbles over her chilly barefoot feet, the power of storms in tall trees, the way it feels to make channels and rivers in a muddy driveway in the spring, waking up to a world embroidered with snow. She’s a lucky kid who becomes a lucky adult.

"Let America be America Again" by Langston Hughes

First of all, thanks to Facebook The Jon S. Randal Peace Page, which brings short biographies every day of people who lived and worked towards art, understanding, justice, freedom, and peace.

Like this, today. 

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