Tetris Galaxy and Wordscapes puzzles on
my iPhone and Kindle are keeping me afloat.

Have an argument with My Child,
play Tetris.
Have another bad conversation with the housemate,
play Wordscapes.
I guess I could find a word search book,
but they get swallowed by the house.

Thinking angry thoughts
I fire up the Kindle

If I can just beat one more level
I will have completed a level in
the most frustrating game
I’ve ever continued to play.

I believe I can solve the
moving dynamic puzzle that speeds up
with the increase in levels.

I’m not addicted to this, but
it is too cold to garden much outside.

I’m also having that spring paranoia
about being outside in the yard again.

The new neighbors are out early with
their business digging trenches with some
incredibly loud diesel powered machine
next to my bedroom window.

I really am not that social when I
garden in the early spring.
I prefer to be
the invisible gardener.

I wonder if I can get a job
as a gardener,
who is not required to
lift or pull heavy objects.
(Haaaaaa haaa ha, probably not.)

I used to garden for people before
I moved out here
in the wilderness of Ohio.
It’s like being an art model.
You get paid to do something that you
would happily do on your own in your own yard.

I mean gardening, not modeling nude in
my front yard while gardening.

So tired today.
Girly got her hair brushed this morning.
Now I remember why I started braiding her hair.
She has such a tender scalp.

The tears, the yelling,
the gnashing of teeth,
the flailing of limbs.
She was begging to go to bed.
crying, screaming for me
though I was next to her
right next to her ear

She insisted that she wanted “MAMA”
which means skin to skin face contact
If she weren’t screaming and carrying on
this is what she would say to me:

‘Hey you,
put that brush down
I don’t want to
look cute’

‘How could you?
this torture is insane
This is why you cut
off all my hair in 2016’

‘Maybe we should
reconsider that
as an option’

‘Oh, no.
I like it
when people say
my hair looks cute’

When I was little
I was what my Grannie called

just like so many little black girls
got my hair combed and brushed
to maintain some semblance
of order in my nappy hair

I screamed, I yelled
there was gnashing of teeth
and flailing of limbs

I remember hating my mother
she who caused my pain

She was not a warm woman
a wall of 1940’s practicality
who worked at least two jobs
throughout my childhood

She is the woman who taught me
to work, I was strong enough
to not cry, don’t show weakness
and that I could do anything
I chose to do

In order to straighten my hair
mom would use curling grease
and the hot comb
yes, that dreaded brass comb
that sat on the electric stove element
waiting to cook the curl out
or burn my ear

At the age of five
my mother had my hair
chemically straightened
She didn’t really enjoy my pain

I wore an easy to maintain ponytail.
I could brush it myself

When I was under the car with my father
my hair stayed free of debris
when I climbed trees and
rolled down hills it was
easy to brush the residue
out of my hair.

I wanted braids

We never had the
money to have my hair
cornrowed professionally.

I could do two french braids
with a part down the middle

I remember my Daddy
combing my hair
into pigtails
on the top of my head
like handlebars.

I had dense hair
so there was not much
chance of my hair
swinging or flowing.

The braids stuck right out
in a gentle arc
tangent to my rubber banded
cluster of contained hair

As a sensory child- Girly
has a knee jerk reaction to
hair brushing, washing or baths

I need the power of Isis
to tackle her hair
“Oh mighty Isis”
“Defender of the weak
champion of truth and justice”

Yes, I’m using detangler spray
or oil in a water bottle
I have gotten her used to water on her hair

Though the shock of
spray on her neck or ears
causes some type of Bruce Banner
transformation as my sweet little girl
turns into a Tasmanian Devil

She does this without
foaming at the mouth
did I mention that
she likes the feeling of
the electric razor on her head?

I’m obviously
looking for something
positive to say