Barbara J. Hamby

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Lines by an Aging Poet

Tonight I feel my actual age. In the past, there haven’t been many times that I’ve felt that old. I read the blog of a former writing teacher earlier and he mentioned having eaten a fabulous dinner and thinking afterwards he probably would have preferred a bowl of oatmeal. Sheesh! He’s at least ten or fifteen years younger than I. My stomach prefers oatmeal to rich dinners, but my appetite isn’t really into oatmeal. I do eat it for breakfast, however.

I drove back from the Long Beach peninsula today via Astoria and down Highway 30, then over Cornelius Pass. I drove over there on Highway 26, then US 101. I’m getting jaded I guess because neither route was very satisfactory. The other alternative I’ve driven before is North on I-5 and West on Highway 4. The last I heard about that route was that there were slides under repair.

When I got home, our computer consultant was working with Al and he also helped me with cleaning up my laptop. I’m ashamed to have him work on the desktop. I sort of feel like the homemaker who cleans the house before the maid shows up; I need to do some preliminary clearing before I ask for help.

The writing conference that was the purpose of the trip to Ocean Park was very satisfactory. I enjoyed seeing friends I hadn’t seen in about four years and meeting new writers, that is, some who are new to me and some who are new to writing. My poetry muse came out of hiding and I wrote a few verses. I expect to be tweaking those and adding to them in the coming week.