RICK

R E M E M B E R Y…

Rick Neece — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 22:27:52 +0000

…is back up, folks. I let “remembery.org” expire accidently. It was commandeered. But the site is still there. Just go to remembery.wordpress.com instead. Mind you I haven’t posted anything there since, well, forever. I just thought I’d lost it forever. Until today.

30 for Thirty Days, 30: From Where I Sit…

Rick Neece — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 22:18:17 +0000

…it longs for clean-up, folks. The ending of the season and this project. The pots on the patio are failing, have failed. The leaves, while not yet all down, fill the yard. It has been sweet to engage in this project. Perhaps we’ll engage in another before too long passes. Be well and happy, all y’all.

I feel I’m on the cusp of a new adventure. If it’s true, stay tuned. I’ll let you know how it goes.

That’s a wrap for now.

30 for Thirty Days, 29: Purchased

Rick Neece — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 16:27:56 +0000

Dan’s and my Christmas present to each other last year. A Georg Nelson pendant fixture (UFO).

30 for Thirty Days, 28: Daily Routine

Rick Neece — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 16:22:56 +0000

30 for Thirty Days, 27: What He Wrote…

Rick Neece — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 23:20:57 +0000

(I am, at present, without the prompt from the prompts I’ve been following in this experiment. Once again I’ll opt for a prompt my own.)

…my first, ever, blog-post and my first, ever, published writing. (elimae, archives, 2006.09)

THE INSOMNIA OF JERRY A. PRUFROCK
November 26, 2005.

Let us make best use of the time still left us by beginning our discussion with the assumption, here at the outset, that we can be sure that this is not about his discontentment; though we know he one time thought the more lessons he learned, the more content he would grow—do we not? You have given us that “he once ran on the notion that the vast amount of the great unknown could be lessened by his learning one more thing”—yes? You tell us early on, do you not, that “he once found a sort of contentment in his surety that he would one day find a sign.” Need we make aloud assumptions about his finding said sign herein? Might we find sign here? We must have sign. Hear?

30 for Thirty Days, 26: Something Old…

Rick Neece — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 10:26:49 +0000

…well older than me.

Dad (left) and his cousin, Leroy. 1950.

30 for Thirty Days, 25: Sun Flash

Rick Neece — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 00:39:14 +0000

My apologies I’ve only got Sun Hands.

Sun Hands

30 for Thirty Days, 24: A Sunset

Rick Neece — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 00:27:56 +0000

Now, I’ll really cheat the rules. I meant to take a photo of tonight’s sunset. It lacked luster, at least from the front of the house as a photo. So I’ll tell you of one I remember from a time on the Southeastern shore of Lake Michigan, nearly on the Indiana/Michigan border.

Danny and I were spending a week’s vacation at our friends’ Jim and Stephen’s cottage in Michiana Shores. As was, sort of, custom, we’d walk down to the beach to watch the sun set. Five minutes walk, if that. One evening, we met two retired ladies who were there. I’ll make up names because I don’t remember theirs. “Dot” and “Rose.”

As we watched the sun set over Chicago, some 80 miles across the lake (we could almost make out the Sears tower on the horizon), Dot asked, “So what do you boys do?”

I replied, “I work for Saks Fifth Avenue in the visual merchandising department.”

Dot said, (in her growley, smokey, South Chicago accent), “I was a Saks Fifth Avenue bride. My mom took me down to Michigan Avenue, Saks. We found a dress. I don’t think I was ever as beautiful as I was the day I got married.”

Danny and I nodded. When the last sliver of sun slipped below the edge, they started back to their places. Danny and I sat. The sky deepened. Dark came on. Danny and I felt our way back to the cottage. We hardly said a word.

30 for Thirty Days, 23: Trees

Rick Neece — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 14:20:18 +0000

30 for Thirty Days, 22: Pattern

Rick Neece — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 14:03:17 +0000