I learned something very important this week. Kind of Kierkegaardian in that I lived it forward and learned it backward: Moving into a new house is much more exhausting when you are 75. Thank heavens we had help.
45 had help moving into his place, and I doubt he lifted even one of his many little fingers.
Any more people left the White House this week? Someone did or is going to or something. I have happily lost track. We promise to treat our new place and all who visit here better than he has.
Of course there were buyers of our former home. We thought it was perfect or perfectly imperfect with its cottage garden in the front and Japanese garden in the back. I won’t go into the difference in aesthetics. Let’s just leave at “overgrown.”
Selling the House
The buyers came to measure,
and we watched, trying
to drink coffee and read.
We watched them stretch
a tape along the wall of
family photographs and
along the shelf cluttered
with shells and carved
Madonnas, and then heard
her say, “I hate this
wall. I hope we can
put in a window.” It
started to rain, and
the dog lay under
the table, and the
hummingbirds hovered
at the feeder while
the orioles pecked
at the orange halves
nailed along the porch
rail. In a week it all
would go to sleep.
Under the maples,
birches, and pines.
Under the rocks piled
every summer along
the shore. Under
the graves of the dogs.
–Jack Ridl
First published in Southern Indiana Review.
Subsequently published in Broken Symmetry, Wayne State University Press.
Kristin Brace’s collection Each Darkness Inside is now available online, from Kristin, and from Finishing Line Press. Kristin recently won the First Book Award from Michigan State University Press.
If you enjoy the annual Reading at The Red Dock, this year’s will take place on August 13 at 6pm. This year I’ll be joined by D.L. James and Mark Hiskes. Come early for music, food and drink, and a good time on the high water harbor!
On August 20 at 7pm, I’ll be reading with Greg Rappleye at The Book Nook & Java Shop in Montague. Talk about a place where the atmosphere alone is a joy, let alone the food and beverages!
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Visit Reader’s World or Hope-Geneva Bookstore in Holland, The Bookman in Grand Haven, the Michigan News Agency in Kalamazoo, and The Book Nook & Java Shop in Montague to find Jack’s books in West Michigan.
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Click here for Jack’s entire collection, In Time — poems for the current administration.
METHOD is the road after we traversed it. (Pascal) C
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Pascal: that rascal!
Ahhhhh yes indeed.
He also said, and I paraphrase, “Yes, but why?”
All the best in your new home, Jack. Cottage garden in the front and Japanese garden in the back sounds perfect to me… so i wish you “overgrown” in the new place, too!
Starr
You ‘n me, Starr: joined at sensibility. And I’m glad and grateful
Thank ye.
XXX
So very sad. When we ever sell our house, I will not be here for the tape measure critique!
See you tonight. Mary
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Yes, duck out if they come armed with tape measures and Japanese saws.
What a grand beginning to Landscapes #12–Thank you for your part of our quilt.
XXX
Ah Jack, perfect is such a relative state, isn’t it? Thank you. Sandy Schrec XO
A Traditional Foods Enthusiast
Mimi taught me the difference between perfect, imperfectly imperfect, and the greatness of imperfectly perfect.
You might get a kick out of my TEDx talk about this. It ain’t too long. Hug that lug, David!
XXX
Jack
This instance of hate and hope in the same moment leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Especially when the thing hated is a thing owned and loved and lived with. I wonder if it this pairing always smacks of greed..
The layers in this poem sing a song that makes me feel as Frodo must have felt listening to the Elves sing in Rivendell — and that is, wonder at something not understood in mind but felt in heart, the weight of years spent living in a place. The weight of the lives of dogs and wondering if the dogs all lay under the table or if they had places of their own.
Thanks, Jack.
Ben,
The rich layers of complexity that you discover and reveal so thoughtfully
bring life to life. I feel so very fortunate to have you talking with me.
Your connecting the poem to Frodo and company brings joy and affirmation.
My gratitude can’t be expressed, not adequately, not in any way.
XXX
Jack
Oh, moving.
We were in our apartment for 8 1/2 years before buying our house. I mentioned to Neal how exhausting moving is – not just physically, but mentally/emotionally. How it makes you wonder how much a place defines you, how much your things are a part of you, if it’s so easy to uproot your stuff, isn’t it just as easy to uproot a life? And other existentially angsty things. And I said, “And you’re just thinking, okay, that’s finished, now on to the next task.” And he said, “Uh, yep.” Sometimes I think, Why don’t you get it?! But most of the time, I’m SO GLAD we balance each other out. 😵😂
Thanks for the shout out! We are so bummed that we’ll miss the Red Dock reading this year. We’re heading out early that morning on a road trip.
XO Kristin
In so many wonderful ways, Julie fulfilled the role Neal did. She even had
every room and every box and piece of furniture color coded. It was remarkable.
And there I was saying goodbye to the house finch at the feeder.
I so so soooo appreciate this, Kristin. And seeing the difference is
actually a balance and a wholeness is sooooo important. It’s not
a separation, but a completion.
XXX
Jack
Loved the poem. The last line really touched me.
Thank you for telling me, Blaine. One writes these things, tosses ’em out there
and unless told, never knows if they landed where they belong. This one sure
did and I’m so grateful you told me.
XXX
Jack
Amen and amen. Our house is our home filled with endless memories, smells, and comforts.
Sent from my iPhone
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You know how much we appreciated ALL THE WORK you did for us. But
it was also your gentle understanding and unspoken comfort that eased
this huge change, this paradox of loss and gain. Our thanks are ineffable.
XXX
Jack
♥️♥️♥️
Sent from my Sprint Samsung Galaxy S7.
And back to you. What an honor to sign your remarkable book, Kathleen. Thank you.
XXX
Jack
Oh yeah. You nailed that one, coach. 13 and 1/2 months and 4 days for me. Why did you leave your perfect house? Joan
I keep picturing your piano making its way into the Village!
And I sure hope that you are doing okay, fine, well, whateverrrr.
Had to move for several reasons, one being that I could no longer
keep up with the landscaping.
XXX
Jack
Sadness – the marks in the children’s furniture that once made me angry, the garden we worked so long to birth…a few more years until we make the move…but the preparations are emotion filled. Thanks Jack….On to building new memories…TD
Tony,
You wrote a poem.
Hey, you can always turn to this guy. I care about
things like this. And I care about you.
What a joy to see you with the group in England. I
sure hope it’s been a great good time for ya.
XXX
Jack
I loved each of your houses. Can’t wait to see the new one and to share a glass of good French red wine (they don’t like that at the White House)
Get over here!!! All of ya!!! Hear me!!!
Love you, one and all
Jack
Dear Jack,
When it comes to the question why this poem is not only perceived but felt in the act of reading my assumption is that it has what Aristotle called “mesotes”. It is balanced in such a way that the emotions have become preserved and transcended at the same time. The Hegelian term – just to show off ever so once in a while – would be “aufgehoben”, which, in German, has the flickering meaning of “preserved” and “overcome” at the same time, at least in the Hegelian context. In order to get there in poetry one must leave things out / behind and concentrate on a set of images that contain all that is mandatory for poetic depiction, knowing that a whit more would only distract. The brain would gain, lose would the heart. Some poets, it seems, can balance their two tongues.
Reinhard
Dear Reinhard,
This from you is fascinating. Of course it makes me feel like all I do is talk and write in grunts; however, as I read
your commentary, I found myself nodding yes yes yes over and over again. In my teaching I spent a lot of time helping
my students work toward “mesotes.” And as you can tell, I try my best in most every poem to “preserve and transcend.”
Another thing I emphasized was the “presence of absence,” to discern what happens when there is an actual presence of
what is not there, which is different from cutting what is not necessary. I often think that the word “sentimentality”
is misdefined, that it is actually the fusion of sentiment and mentality: brain and heart as one.
Jack
Dear Jack,
I had not thought about “presence of absence” sufficiently, which comes close to a lethal sin because it is certainly one of the essentials. And I do agree to the value of sentiment. Georg Buechner, I think, the author of “Woyzeck”, once wrote: “Wenn ihr’s nicht fühlt, ihr werdet’s nicht erjagen”, which can be translated as “If you don’t feel it you won’t be able to chase it”.
Have a nice weekend
Reinhard
Amen and amen!