My morning started with a trip over to Wallingford for waffles at a fellow’s house I’d never met, via a new app called Dyne, which pairs up home-cooks with guests. It’s been too long since I’ve had that kind of fun (and anxiety), since I am usually the planner and organizer, which is often easier to be as you’ve a role to play. After my breakfast, I wandered over to see my friends at the Poetry bookstore, picked up yet another John Clare collection, and then headed to the Farmers Market.
I didn’t have any particular vision for food at the Market. The husband was away, so I was mainly going to buy some flowers for the sheer delight of last of the season dahlias. Like many people, I walked right by this little set up, “Poems: Your Topic, Your Price” and as I puzzled it out, just keep walking. Then I thought, “Well to hell with it, let’s keep playing games.”
So the game works thus: you give William the Poet and topic and then wander away for five or ten minutes. You wander back, and there you have poem that he types up and then reads to you. You fish around in your wallet for some money and walk away with a poem in your pocket.
Thinking so much about Alzheimer’s, I asked for a poem on “Forgetfulness”.
This is what he had in a quick jot:
I can’t remember the ladies about fifteen years ago who were big in Seattle with their roving typewriters. This reminded me of that. And it reminded me that you just have to keep putting yourself out there if you’re going to have any fun at all. I love this so much.