We got our younger son a Husqvarna for Christmas, and within the week I found this picture of my father in a tree with a pretty substantial-looking yellow chainsaw. I'm guessing this is when they were taking down the American elms (vanquished by Dutch Elm disease) at The Farm. My brother will have to corroborate because I had left home by this time. I don't recognize the other fellow.
I used this picture to suggest my sketch for yesterday. It is wierd.
It is always a pleasure to me to find a picture of my father that I hadn't seen or remembered. I have modeled myself after him in so many ways! Our initials are the same, and I based my signature on his: two initials and the last name, which begins with an "H" in both cases. So every time I sign a check or one of those interminable sheets of permissions in a doctor's office, I can smile as I remember him!
I have been planning to bring poetry back strongly into this blog. The poetry books are shelved upstairs, but the haiku books are downstairs and behind me where I now work at the dining room table, getting my computers set up for use here (printer drivers, etc.) and making my 15 pieces of art for the new year.
So we will begin with this from Santoka, as translated by Cid Corman in Walking Into the Wind,
well which way
go
with the wind blowing
(#15)
I think will try to walk with the wind this year and not spend quite so much time encouched or in bed.
Wish me luck!
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