My DiaryLand Diary

2007-09-01 - 10:12 p.m.

She Wants For Me To Hold Her
I ventured out very early last Sunday morning with my huge German Shepherd Dog. We had to go to the Farm Vendors set up across 1st Avenue, for one thing, to replace the lovely chocolate chip cream cheese cake that Gretta nosed her way into the refrigerator and devoured while I was intentely working on an art project several rooms away. We also bought donut peaches - flat peaches the size of a tiny powdered doughnut, that almost look as if you smashed them down under your thumb - silly, funny fruit! I do not usually buy or eat fruit, but
I must have these. The peach inside is white, with just a 1/2 inch pit, and they are so very sweet.
Again there is no hot water in this slum. I will have to take a cold bubble-bath and be grateful there is at LEAST water!!! Although I live in a slumlord's building I feel privleged to have access to this little garden I am writing in right now. A squirrel just ran along the fence here and then up a tree. I will fight until the day I die to keep this space.
I came back from the farm market and Margaret, the last remaining resident German-town woman on my block, was outside conversing with the pigeons. "This one, she wants for me to hold her," she said. "And that tiny sparrow, she wants sunflower seeds, but I have run out. Usually I carry in pocket. I disappoint them. I must get more." I told her my building still does not have hot water and I want to take a bath. "This is not a good person, this new owner," she said. "But look, how my pigeon comes to me!"
Yesterday Margaret was outside as I was taking my recycling to the curb. "Look at my arm." She rolled up her sleeve...She had an ugly merlot-colored bruise she said she got while trying to drag garbage cans from her building across the sidewalk. "Yesterday I cannot even push back my hair from my eyes. I cannot lift arm. But last night, I take hot bath with two bottles vinegar, and better already. Vinegar is best 'ting for bruise. Remember that!...hello, my pigeon!"...She's distracted by the flapping of white wings over our heads, and one feather floats down into my hair as the pigeon comes in for a landing. "My little thing! So precious!" she says in a tiny voice. "That's one of mine! Forever, she come to me!"