Yesterday — a collective list about Tuesday, November 8, 2022, written on Wednesday, November 9, 2022

Yesterday morning I went outdoors to see the moon’s eclipse at 5:15, dim and red, in and out of the clouds, and then cars started driving into our apartment parking lot and it took me a puzzled minute to remember that this is a polling place and those blessed volunteers were showing up to help us vote.

Yesterday I tuned a nylon-string guitar.

Yesterday I cleaned acorns out of the gutters but I left a few acorns to sprout in the gravel; later I read an article about bread made from acorn flour.

Yesterday I discovered that a shellac record I’d found in a charity shop was 107 years old.

Yesterday I checked the weather repeatedly for news of this oncoming hurricane and I pulled out two storm lanterns in preparation.

Yesterday I worked on a poem to read to medical students about the head-on collision I was in at 15.

Yesterday I thought about my friend recovering from cancer, whom I dreamed about the night before.

Yesterday, without a sideways glance, a female deer bounded across my path and later I saw two bucks grazing silently in the graveyard.

Yesterday my garden Buddha smiled through a dusting of new snow.

Yesterday I forgave myself for eating all of the York Peppermint Patties.
 
Yesterday I was scorned by a heron who took off with a squawk.
 
Yesterday I counted my blessings and stalled at number three.
 
Yesterday I thought I saw a black snake wriggling down the street but when I got closer I could tell it was a beautiful scarf, probably silk, that must have blown off someone’s head.

Yesterday I said the Sh’ma Yisrael.

Yesterday I walked in the neighborhood amid sunflower heads of seed, a drooping Jack-o-lantern, and an abandoned and dirty rabbit costume.

Yesterday I passed a funeral, resplendent with a dozen tow trucks, presumably the profession of the deceased.

Yesterday I called my daughter, whose household has covid.

Yesterday I paid to have a poem translated into Cherokee.

Yesterday I talked to myself sternly about making this a good day, no matter what else was going on.

Yesterday I saw a short video clip of an old friend and at first I didn’t realize it was her, she looked so different to me, but as soon as she started to speak I recognized her voice.

Yesterday I remembered my father again and regretted not being with him in his last moments of life.
 
Yesterday I had a terrible headache which I treated first with three different half pills and later with a cocktail.

Yesterday I played tennis but not very well and my partner got really angry with me because he's a guy who doesn't know how to lose.

Yesterday autumn made me understand once again how transient we are.

Yesterday I decided my life was far too busy and out of control and the house was too messy and too dirty and everything, even my computer, needed reorganizing and I wondered what I was going to not do so I would have more time to just be.
 
Yesterday I ordered the boxes of pecan halves — roasted and salted ones, dark chocolate-covered ones, and praline ones — from Young’s Pecan Plantation, just as I have every year and my parents did before me.
 
Yesterday I searched online for a new audiobook but none seemed as interesting as the ones I have already listened to so many times; they now lull me to sleep each night.  
 
Yesterday I made a quick trip to a local bookstore and could have happily stayed all day.
 
Yesterday I decided I needed  the gift of a daily “something just for fun” — sometimes planned, sometimes not — despite my “to-do” list.

Yesterday I scored higher in my Italian Wordle game than in the English one and I wondered if I should move abroad.

Yesterday I wanted to email my daughter to remind her to schedule important medical tests and I did not — because I thought she might stubbornly put it off more if I nagged.

Yesterday I fell asleep at nine o’clock and realized my battle with the time change is not over.

Yesterday I went into a new bakery in town and tasted a small bite of a pastry that looked good but it didn’t taste good, which is a relief because now I won’t be tempted to go into that bakery ever again.

Yesterday I was awakened by wind chimes at 4 a.m. and was startled by the sight of Orion, leaping over the oak tree.

Yesterday I heard Cat Stevens crooning “Moon Shadow” while watching the total eclipse.

Yesterday I suffered angst and joy while watching election results.

Yesterday at Dunkin’ Donut the manager told a young man to use only 3 pieces of bacon per order, “You are putting 5 pieces on the muffin and it’s killing my inventory, my profits.”

Yesterday I wondered for the zillionth time, why do we vote when the sun is in Scorpio?

Yesterday I made kimchi for the first time — napa cabbage, carrots, and purple watermelon radish — but I don’t know if I got it right.

Yesterday I took even shorter breaks while bicycling since it gets cold now sometimes when I rest.

Yesterday I worried about a friend who I cannot take care of.

Yesterday I went out walking in the dark for the first time in a very very long while.

Yesterday I didn't see the blood red moon again.

Yesterday my cat, Cody, ate nothing.

Yesterday I returned five pairs of pants that didn't fit.

Yesterday I was the Tuesday Cribbage Champion!

Yesterday I did not listen to the news.

Yesterday I wasted time looking for my glasses.

Yesterday I cut open an avocado and — oh no! — too late.

Yesterday I removed an attached tick from my lower abdomen.

Yesterday I went to get a few groceries that ended up costing $117.32.

Yesterday my wife confronted me about whether I have been feeding a rabbit in our yard.

Yesterday I gave extra special attention to my dear cat who has inoperable cancer.

Yesterday I went out to buy the cheapest leaf rake I could find, and along the way brought home a Ficus benghalensis (Audrey).
 
Yesterday I started painting the moon.
 
Yesterday I spent time looking at art created by both friends and strangers.

Yesterday I was waylaid by the blue shadow on the wall . . . again.

Yesterday, reluctantly, I talked to the phone company about getting a new cellphone.

Yesterday was bitter cold and we had to cover the plants on our porch with a blanket.

Yesterday I helped my sister-in-law perfect her apple pie recipe by eating a giant slice.

Yesterday I ordered more paper for the printer because I can't see typos unless I hold them in my hand.

Yesterday I lit a candle in the dark.

Yesterday I finished hand-tying my latest comfort quilt for “The Power of the Quilt Project.”

Yesterday my favorite fifteen minutes were spent watching three dark-eyed Juncos, harbingers of winter, join in with the regular crowd at our patio feeder.

Yesterday I crafted a “happy distraction” poem.

Yesterday a friend came to visit and she brought home-baked treats (delicious and also healthy) as well as a jar of pickled carrots; we sat and drank hibiscus tea and talked about everything.

Yesterday I didn't read or send even one email.

Yesterday I shredded fresh ginger into my cup of vanilla yogurt.

Yesterday I arranged kindling and split wood in the fireplace for a cozy evening.

Yesterday I received an invitation from my enthusiastic cousins to attend a family reunion.

Yesterday I enjoyed my second cup of coffee with a piece of Drunken Blonde Fruitcake recently carried home from the Black Cat Bakery in Sharon Springs.
 
Yesterday my friend and I planned to meet for a late-afternoon beer at The Greenhouse Café and Cocktail Lounge but I ended up canceling because I felt as if I were coming down with something.
 
Yesterday I took a home-antigen test, discovered it was negative, and realized that anytime I don’t feel well the automatic assumption is a case of COVID-19.
 
Yesterday I read twenty-two chapters of Orhan Pamuk’s captivating book, “Nights of Plague,” yet still have 550 pages to go.
 
Yesterday my phone informed me that I walked 6,741 fewer steps than the day before (groan!).

Yesterday I couldn’t afford books in the store so I wrote down titles.

Yesterday gets an asterisk because we slept in the same bed.

Yesterday the back of my neck was itchy again.

Yesterday I held my mother’s wrist so her signature would hit the line.

Yesterday the apple crisp staggered under an inch of sugar topping.

Yesterday I shoved the ugly metal filing cabinet into the bedroom closet.

Yesterday I rearranged all the bookends.

Yesterday I shredded two months of junk mail to recycle.

Yesterday I was woken up by my son laughing in his sleep.

Yesterday I struggled to find a place in my kitchen to fit the leftover birthday candles.

Yesterday I collected pinecones of all sizes and walked carefully home with them in my pockets.

Yesterday I dyed papers with tea bags to “antique” them.

Yesterday I sat in the chilly fall sunshine and basked like a cat with no responsibilities.

Yesterday I stepped in a puddle and regretted wearing flip-flops.

Yesterday I stopped at the grocery store to buy Gatorade, popsicles, and crackers for my daughter who was sick.

Yesterday I watched “Enola Holmes 2” with my daughter and halfway through, she fell asleep.

Yesterday I cancelled my book club meeting for the first time in seven years.

Yesterday it was dark and rainy when I drove my son off for band practice and I was relieved to make it back home safely.

Yesterday I did not do any work and it felt good because I had been feeling burnt out.

Yesterday I tap danced with a happy posse of dried leaves as we clicked our way down the sidewalk, twirling together with each gust of wind.

Yesterday I  listened to my heart, not my head, and received and received and received.

Yesterday I awoke without the weight of somewhere to go, after day upon day of going, and by mid-morning going didn’t seem like a weight at all, so I went.

Yesterday my dates for dinner ordered pesto pasta and pasta with butter and then these old souls, of five and seven years, talked of geography, astronomy, relationships, and emotions; I think we’ll date again.

Yesterday I sat with two sweet grandchildren on either side of me, cozy in their pjs, and read to them before bedtime.

Yesterday I gladly touched the smooth wooden bannister walking down the stairs.

Yesterday I imagined winning a prize for . . . any number of possible achievements, and who doesn’t love a prize, yay!

Yesterday I couldn’t imagine that I’d grown so old.

Yesterday I cancelled an obligation just so I could stay home and watch the Tournament of Champions on “Jeopardy!”

Yesterday I ate a small bowl of cereal for breakfast which took just long enough for me to read two poems by Billy Collins.

Yesterday I swept a bushel of rustling leaves off the back porch; some blew back on.

Yesterday I looked around my bedroom and realized that, from the watercolor above the dresser, to the music box that plays “Edelweiss,” to the framed Gary Lawson cartoon on the nightstand, nearly everything I loved was a gift from someone who loved me.

Yesterday as I walked to my car I heard a little whistling sound and laughed to realize it was the wind blowing through my hoop earrings.

Yesterday I listened to the trees full of starlings, all talking excitedly about their upcoming journey.

Yesterday I watched a movie about old people trying to escape from a nursing home; it made me laugh and it also scared me.

Yesterday I cut back the peony which was blocking my view of the red house.

Yesterday I wondered if the geese could see me walking my dog in the field.

Yesterday I bought fresh strawberries at the food co-op, taking a chance at deliciousness.

Yesterday I took a picture of the pink cloud at dawn.

Yesterday I had laser surgery to have a kidney stone removed.

Yesterday at the grocery store, while in the pickle section, I decided to buy a jar of sweet gherkins, which reminded me of how Mom used to tuck them into her tuna salad sandwiches.

Yesterday I carefully pried off eight pups from my mini barrel cactus and planted each in its own tiny planter beside the window.

Yesterday, after googling the history of a tune from the late sixties, I went down a rabbit hole of dozens of songs from my childhood and adolescence, bringing up so many memories.

Yesterday I talked of tree trunks and tree limbs and knotty hefty stumps, and it was not metaphor, it was not poetry, but a fire hazard pile of real trunks, limbs, and stumps that need to go.

Yesterday I looked at the moon, bone white and bright, a different moon and the same, high in the nearly midnight sky.

Yesterday I took a long walk along streets I’ve never walked before, and wrote 20 haiku.

Yesterday I read poetry while listening to the news.

Yesterday I tried to write down everything I did  in real time but sometimes I forgot what I was doing.

Yesterday I faced all the cracks in the walls and tried to imagine how to fill them.

Yesterday I decided not to find out.

Yesterday was a day of sunshine, sandpaper, and spinach linguine.

Yesterday I wondered about the future.


Contributors to this text mosaic:

Alan Bern
Alan Peat
Ann Carter
Anne Killian
Antonia Matthew
Barrie Levine
Blue Waters
C. Robin Janning
Carole Johnston
Carole MacRury
Deborah Burke Henderson
Dede Hatch
Ellen Orleans
Florin C. Ciobica
Jim Mazza
Joan Leotta
Joel Savishinsky
Kath Abela Wilson
Kathleen Kramer
kris moon kondo
Laurinda Lind
Lorraine A Padden
M. Wilson
Marcie Wessels
Margaret Walker
Miriam Sagan
Pris Campbell
Roberta Beach Jacobson
Sharon Yntema
Theresa A. Cancro
Tina Wright
Tom Clausen
Zee Zahava