Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes (Paul Simon)

...or the tip of her nose? - when the going gets tough, the tough get a body piercing!

I have been talking about this for the last few months, wanting to get a small diamond nose stud (left side) when the time was right - Mari was here with mom yesterday afternoon and last night... and I googled for the closest tattoo parlor (one town over in Buford), checked out their website, gave them a call and decided to seize the day. Jennifer, a co-owner of the shop, has been piercing for 10 years and told me the "pain" (more like a bee sting) would last 2-5 seconds - she was right, I have a lovely facial adornment (finally making peace with my Barbra proboscis after all these years) and I am resolved to keep up with the 3-6 times a day hygiene routine so no infection sets in...

Crazily enough, I see it as a tangible reminder of spending this time with mom, who is so much like a diamond (shiny and sharp... :-) - it's also a celebration of my upcoming 55th birthday (August 5)...

As I said, Mari spent the night here last night so I could go to her house to get a good night's sleep - I will write a full update later on mom's CaringBridge website page...

I have an upcoming post planned about fireflies, as we don't have them in Florida and I've missed them so - I continue to delight each dusk as the small flashing specks of light dot the yard...


I also have a musical excursion planned Saturday night to a local (Lawrenceville) house concert to see/hear some dear friends (Mari will stay with mom again) - more on that after the fact, as I'm hoping to surprise them!



SONG: Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes by Paul Simon


BOOK: Spiritual Tattoo: A Cultural History of Tattooing, Piercing, Scarification, Branding, and Implants by John Rush


POEM: The Ordinary by Kirsten Dierking

It's summer, so
the pink gingham shorts,
the red mower, the neat rows
of clean smelling grass
unspooling behind
the sweeping blades.

A dragonfly, black body
big as a finger, will not leave
the mower alone,
loving the sparkle
of scarlet metal,
seeing in even a rusting paint
the shade of a flower.

But I wave him off,
conscious he is
wasting his time,
conscious I am
filling my time
with such small details,
distracting colors,

like pink checks,
like this, then that,
like a dragonfly wing
in the sun reflecting
the color of opals,
like all the hours
we leave behind,
so ordinary,
but not unloved.

QUOTE: "For me the diamond dawns are set in rings of beauty, and all my ways are dewy wet with pleasant duty." ~ John Townsend Trowbridge