birch boughs bend
more easily than
maple
26.12.04
23.12.04
this town
This town is starting.
To wear me down.
Granted, I did wear the contact lenses for too many hours. And left my skin scandalously de-hydrated. And endured driving in the exceptional slush. But I think it's also this dang town. Oh, and feeling rang-y about my far-off friend. Ah, communication - the five syllable word that means, don't be too tired, too worn-out, too rang-y to attempt it. Co (it takes two) commune (in one space) 'nication (rhymes with...).
But I got to run in the sleet and 1/2-foot of snow this morning, which was and adventure and a pleasure indeed. With all the drivers not driving, and the roads slippy-white. And more cookies were baked, and a swell choco delight.
Now, though, it is time.
For wine.
To wear me down.
Granted, I did wear the contact lenses for too many hours. And left my skin scandalously de-hydrated. And endured driving in the exceptional slush. But I think it's also this dang town. Oh, and feeling rang-y about my far-off friend. Ah, communication - the five syllable word that means, don't be too tired, too worn-out, too rang-y to attempt it. Co (it takes two) commune (in one space) 'nication (rhymes with...).
But I got to run in the sleet and 1/2-foot of snow this morning, which was and adventure and a pleasure indeed. With all the drivers not driving, and the roads slippy-white. And more cookies were baked, and a swell choco delight.
Now, though, it is time.
For wine.
22.12.04
on deal appeal
Fact: this family gets off on deals. No one more so than mama-bird, and no one less so than the-brother-who-wants-it-all. Deals. "Deal: A sale favorable especially to the buyer; a bargain." Just how favourable is it if you never would have needed (or, more realistically, wanted) the item in the first place, at any cost? And why trade in what's good for what's on sale?
On reunions: last night a gathering of old (now rather distant) classmates. But the history endures in some respects, and here and there some history-to-be, too. R., still angry, but so nice to reminisce with her as well, remembering the family stories we lived through together. Tonight, with bridesmaids-to-be, women who were not so long ago girls. Who's parents corralled us when the teachers were on strike. Now mothers, professionals, partners, students. A long time in the making. Still good with wine and cheese! L. (mother of nearly 2), A., A. on the phone, and beautiful C. Our own dress-designer (in case we thought these details trifles), M., to make the fairy-tale quite real. Need I be surprised? Look where I grew up...
Brother and I went grocery shopping, and, of all things, baked cookies all afternoon. No less than four varieties!! Crazy. Some spirit! And tomorrow all hell breaks loose as the storm, and aunt and grandparents arrive. Then let the incredible fiesta of food and drink and more food and drink begin! Is it possible that we will eat $60 worth of cheese, hundreds in wine and champagne and liquor, that there will be turkey and ham, smoked salmon, soups, roasted vegetables, salads, chocolate and chocolate, pancakes, omelets, and more... This is our reality. Gives pause.
On reunions: last night a gathering of old (now rather distant) classmates. But the history endures in some respects, and here and there some history-to-be, too. R., still angry, but so nice to reminisce with her as well, remembering the family stories we lived through together. Tonight, with bridesmaids-to-be, women who were not so long ago girls. Who's parents corralled us when the teachers were on strike. Now mothers, professionals, partners, students. A long time in the making. Still good with wine and cheese! L. (mother of nearly 2), A., A. on the phone, and beautiful C. Our own dress-designer (in case we thought these details trifles), M., to make the fairy-tale quite real. Need I be surprised? Look where I grew up...
Brother and I went grocery shopping, and, of all things, baked cookies all afternoon. No less than four varieties!! Crazy. Some spirit! And tomorrow all hell breaks loose as the storm, and aunt and grandparents arrive. Then let the incredible fiesta of food and drink and more food and drink begin! Is it possible that we will eat $60 worth of cheese, hundreds in wine and champagne and liquor, that there will be turkey and ham, smoked salmon, soups, roasted vegetables, salads, chocolate and chocolate, pancakes, omelets, and more... This is our reality. Gives pause.
21.12.04
back in the big smoke
chez maman. day 2. slept a wonderful sleep, full of wine and brother's chilean milky home-brew, having whatched a movie and trimmed the tree en famille.
ventured down-town to kensignton, to taste cheese and to buy fish and such. and for once the neon signage and all those cars didn't quite bring me down. new doo, too: all short 'n cute, full of 'product'. ah, la belle vie en ville!
tonight a little reunion with the nerdy kids of yore. should be, well, fun i suppose. and all the while i can't wait to get home to my cozy bed and tasty book.
ventured down-town to kensignton, to taste cheese and to buy fish and such. and for once the neon signage and all those cars didn't quite bring me down. new doo, too: all short 'n cute, full of 'product'. ah, la belle vie en ville!
tonight a little reunion with the nerdy kids of yore. should be, well, fun i suppose. and all the while i can't wait to get home to my cozy bed and tasty book.
19.12.04
it could just be the wine
it's a cold day outside, about -15 or so, and this morning's shower is still lingering on my living-room windows.
wilco is playing and here i sit with a bowl of beta-carotene soup, and the rest of last night's last glass of wine.
in a flurry of...something, i whipped up a batch of rum balls and the soup and tidied up and did a tonne of dishes. and now i look forward to slowly working my way through the glühwein-soaked orange slices from yestereve's festivities. and maybe a little walk to take my compost down to the community garden, or a stroll along the lakeshore. maybe i should go look for used cd's to give to the brother who wants it all.
it could just be the wine, but i'm feeling all warm from the glow of my friendlings hier. we sat around talking, and sipping, listening to music, and played a little charades, a little alphabet gameage, reminisced and debated and had a nice time all 'round.
not much daylight left - best get outside. wish there was snow enough for propulsion via cross-country skis.
wilco is playing and here i sit with a bowl of beta-carotene soup, and the rest of last night's last glass of wine.
in a flurry of...something, i whipped up a batch of rum balls and the soup and tidied up and did a tonne of dishes. and now i look forward to slowly working my way through the glühwein-soaked orange slices from yestereve's festivities. and maybe a little walk to take my compost down to the community garden, or a stroll along the lakeshore. maybe i should go look for used cd's to give to the brother who wants it all.
it could just be the wine, but i'm feeling all warm from the glow of my friendlings hier. we sat around talking, and sipping, listening to music, and played a little charades, a little alphabet gameage, reminisced and debated and had a nice time all 'round.
not much daylight left - best get outside. wish there was snow enough for propulsion via cross-country skis.
18.12.04
today i lounge
it is morning. the morning after, actually. the morning after my hammock delivered me to the earth, and the morning after the end of one world and the beginning of another. memorable transitions, that's a life remembered.
today i lounge. absolutely no leaving of the house before noon. no strenuous use of the most metabolically active organ. only forward thinking, play, and fun.
tonight i play, with dear friends comme à une réunion. there'll be a few missing, but such is transience.
Glühwein - now how on earth do i make that?
today i lounge. absolutely no leaving of the house before noon. no strenuous use of the most metabolically active organ. only forward thinking, play, and fun.
tonight i play, with dear friends comme à une réunion. there'll be a few missing, but such is transience.
Glühwein - now how on earth do i make that?
17.12.04
baaa
i am lamb
lamb i am
lamb is led
led by head
by head, i am
and led, am lamb
like lamb, am led
with laughter
like lamb, am led
to slaughter
lamb i am
lamb is led
led by head
by head, i am
and led, am lamb
like lamb, am led
with laughter
like lamb, am led
to slaughter
16.12.04
do you know
in your eyes there are poems,
in my heart a song
in your hands there are sorrows,
in mine a so-long
in your head there are hand-stands
in my arms a child
and i'll sing-song so long as your
hands stand forlorn
and i'll long for your song
till from life i am borne
in my heart a song
in your hands there are sorrows,
in mine a so-long
in your head there are hand-stands
in my arms a child
and i'll sing-song so long as your
hands stand forlorn
and i'll long for your song
till from life i am borne
do i even have a thing to say?
not really. let's see...
well, today i was told i couldn't take a banana where i wanted to take it (against the rules, I was told), so I tried to leave it somewhere safe. "Won't be there when you get back," barked the official, "Just throw it away!" I thought this would be a shameful waste, and told him so (invoking, I'll admit, the sappy dream of holiday seasonality). I left it behind anyway, perched upon a little mount in the wall. And when I got back (another flustered official in the interim having shouted both "hurry ladies" and "hats OFF!"), sure enough, the banana was gone. I was angry. Had he really just thrown it away? Indignant, and determined to make a scene, I marched over to the garbage. My intention? To remove it, messily if needed, should I see it there. And what did I find? Merrily, all I could see was the blessed banana's peel, and all was well once again in the world.
(isn't it nice when you get to write yourself as the hero?)
well, today i was told i couldn't take a banana where i wanted to take it (against the rules, I was told), so I tried to leave it somewhere safe. "Won't be there when you get back," barked the official, "Just throw it away!" I thought this would be a shameful waste, and told him so (invoking, I'll admit, the sappy dream of holiday seasonality). I left it behind anyway, perched upon a little mount in the wall. And when I got back (another flustered official in the interim having shouted both "hurry ladies" and "hats OFF!"), sure enough, the banana was gone. I was angry. Had he really just thrown it away? Indignant, and determined to make a scene, I marched over to the garbage. My intention? To remove it, messily if needed, should I see it there. And what did I find? Merrily, all I could see was the blessed banana's peel, and all was well once again in the world.
(isn't it nice when you get to write yourself as the hero?)
15.12.04
14.12.04
13.12.04
they were talking about fruitcake on the radio, so I wrote to them:
Again and again, I keep finding that I am my father's daughter, and no more so that in the way my tongue is ageing.
Growing up, fruitcake was one of the many treats that my skinny-as-a-rake father used to keep in his pantry in large quantities. He'd go striding into the kitchen, and put the kettle on for another of his perpetual cups of tea. Before the water had boiled, he'd have munched his merry way through at least half of a small loaf. This ritual was repeated at least half a dozen times a day, with fruitcake or bagels smeared in butter, or some other carb.-rich delish!
I always thought his almost maniacal treat-seeking was weird, or at least gross, and used to tease him about it often. Just yesterday, however, I bought, on impulse, my very first fruitcake. I'm not quite sure when I started enjoying fruitcake. Not more than a few years ago, it seems. About the same time that I started thinking that x-mas pudding and mince meat tarts were tasty. Now I own one of my own, purchased for my pleasure alone.
As I left my desk yesterday evening, and strode into my kitchen to refresh my mug of tea, I nearly laughed out loud at how much I, bent over my moist little cake as the kettle boiled, have come to resemble my father.
And now I think I'll send him one - it has a long way to go (he lives in South Africa now), but however long it takes to get there, I know it won't last long once it's arrived!
(signed: me, reluctant lover of fruit cake)
Growing up, fruitcake was one of the many treats that my skinny-as-a-rake father used to keep in his pantry in large quantities. He'd go striding into the kitchen, and put the kettle on for another of his perpetual cups of tea. Before the water had boiled, he'd have munched his merry way through at least half of a small loaf. This ritual was repeated at least half a dozen times a day, with fruitcake or bagels smeared in butter, or some other carb.-rich delish!
I always thought his almost maniacal treat-seeking was weird, or at least gross, and used to tease him about it often. Just yesterday, however, I bought, on impulse, my very first fruitcake. I'm not quite sure when I started enjoying fruitcake. Not more than a few years ago, it seems. About the same time that I started thinking that x-mas pudding and mince meat tarts were tasty. Now I own one of my own, purchased for my pleasure alone.
As I left my desk yesterday evening, and strode into my kitchen to refresh my mug of tea, I nearly laughed out loud at how much I, bent over my moist little cake as the kettle boiled, have come to resemble my father.
And now I think I'll send him one - it has a long way to go (he lives in South Africa now), but however long it takes to get there, I know it won't last long once it's arrived!
(signed: me, reluctant lover of fruit cake)
do her? i hardly even know her!
mine is the only basket
that carries
all the fishes
in my head alone
floats
the universe intact
that carries
all the fishes
in my head alone
floats
the universe intact
12.12.04
i need a bell
to ring whenever i get a little pedantickle. a little corner store counter-type bell to go "ding", and i'll look up, and smile, and the question has already been asked, but at least there was something for everyone else to listen to. come to think of it, maybe a spritely little theme-song would be more enjoyable. maybe "school's out for summer", or "teacher's pet", or something about being a super-star. hee hee.
11.12.04
consumerism: it ain't so bad
some time ago, in a place not far from here, a good number of my clothes went missing as i was washing at the laundromat.
and so today, i had a most wonderful time...shopping! (okay, so i may be an anti-consumerist and all that jazz, but a girl gotta have some warm pants, and shirts, and scarves if she's gonna live in these northern climes)
shopped till i dropped with my willing companion, roger. une excursion a Value Village (haven for acquisitive anti-consumerists, and cash-strapped cavorters). and when we lined up, purchases clutched in our guilty hands, our gluttony was rewarded with 50% off. hooray!! i felt the thrill of the sale-hunter a hundred times over.
ah, sweet sweet shopping satisfaction.
--------------
(alright, i confess, the scarves were decorative; i figure i'll use them in wrapping gifts this x-mas, or something)
and so today, i had a most wonderful time...shopping! (okay, so i may be an anti-consumerist and all that jazz, but a girl gotta have some warm pants, and shirts, and scarves if she's gonna live in these northern climes)
shopped till i dropped with my willing companion, roger. une excursion a Value Village (haven for acquisitive anti-consumerists, and cash-strapped cavorters). and when we lined up, purchases clutched in our guilty hands, our gluttony was rewarded with 50% off. hooray!! i felt the thrill of the sale-hunter a hundred times over.
ah, sweet sweet shopping satisfaction.
--------------
(alright, i confess, the scarves were decorative; i figure i'll use them in wrapping gifts this x-mas, or something)
9.12.04
numb
this brain of mine no longer wishes to cooperate. in spite of regular chocolate dosing, a fine run around the soccer field, and many interludes of fun mit friends. but only a few more days till it can go back on vacation. it shouldn't complain - i ask so very little of it!
instead of sleep, it mused about naughty things long into the night. instead of imbibing the wisdom of the neuroanatomical ages, it fondly recollected a rainy midnight late-october pic-nic.
but it did help me to dig through old things to find lovely presents to share - one for meghann's super-secret-santa today, and others. and it found me the address of my host family in japan, which i thought maybe lost forever.
if, after all, it really won't help me to learn, then at least i should ask it to sing me a song. now let's see, how might that go:
the brain bone's connected to the spine bone,
the spine bone's connected to the crotch bone,
the croch bone, er, 's connected to the brain bone,
and i'll go on my merry merry way.
silly brain. that's a terrible song. i need to get out of this house. hmm, but at least it smells of sandalwood in here.
instead of sleep, it mused about naughty things long into the night. instead of imbibing the wisdom of the neuroanatomical ages, it fondly recollected a rainy midnight late-october pic-nic.
but it did help me to dig through old things to find lovely presents to share - one for meghann's super-secret-santa today, and others. and it found me the address of my host family in japan, which i thought maybe lost forever.
if, after all, it really won't help me to learn, then at least i should ask it to sing me a song. now let's see, how might that go:
the brain bone's connected to the spine bone,
the spine bone's connected to the crotch bone,
the croch bone, er, 's connected to the brain bone,
and i'll go on my merry merry way.
silly brain. that's a terrible song. i need to get out of this house. hmm, but at least it smells of sandalwood in here.
6.12.04
chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaud
So, my apartment is so hot that:
-my chocolate is melting
-i wake up parched
-my skin is drier than desert
-and i've had to (gasp) open a window - this doesn't sit well with my enviro-mental-ity
Outside it snows: big fat floating flakes. This should be good - maybe a midnight ski in the park for me??
And herein is our curly-hair-ed friend's account of a recent visit to T-bay...
Back to the brain.
(brain-drain!)
-my chocolate is melting
-i wake up parched
-my skin is drier than desert
-and i've had to (gasp) open a window - this doesn't sit well with my enviro-mental-ity
Outside it snows: big fat floating flakes. This should be good - maybe a midnight ski in the park for me??
And herein is our curly-hair-ed friend's account of a recent visit to T-bay...
Back to the brain.
(brain-drain!)
5.12.04
ensoleillée
i awake to the pulse
of blood
more alive for the trickle that leaves me
breathless
together, i lie throbbing and embrace
the day
of blood
more alive for the trickle that leaves me
breathless
together, i lie throbbing and embrace
the day
4.12.04
daisy, daisy, give me your answer do
my love my love
is in love
with her
greater, bluer body
while my head, my head
is in bed
with his
red-y, reedy body
is in love
with her
greater, bluer body
while my head, my head
is in bed
with his
red-y, reedy body
2.12.04
topsy turvey
why is my bottom feeder upside down,
bottoms up?
feeding at the surface?
he seems fine, but for this odd behaviour.
reflecting, reflecting
bottoms up?
feeding at the surface?
he seems fine, but for this odd behaviour.
reflecting, reflecting
death by vacuume
hahaha fly my pretties, fly
think you'd like to land on my bana, na-na-na?
instead i suck you into the vortex
amid the whirling swirling noise
not a quiet end, but then
your constant humming
constant whirring
flittering flight
never endeared you
what i can't understand
is
why
you never leave me completely
think you'd like to land on my bana, na-na-na?
instead i suck you into the vortex
amid the whirling swirling noise
not a quiet end, but then
your constant humming
constant whirring
flittering flight
never endeared you
what i can't understand
is
why
you never leave me completely
16.11.04
notes from a trip upstream
As we leave the open water to re-enter the jungle, we pass through an arch of hanging roots and towering mangrove trees. The river is dark, and through the dense tangle of wood and leaves and life, there is not even a glimpse of land – only roots and the shimmer of blackwater. It is as if the plants themselves have created the earth of water and sun.
In a sky-boat. Racing along lines that won't stay straight. Steady hum over the jungle's voices, over motor and city.
Nose up, I can see only where I am, and where I've been, and the sky beneath us in blackwater.
I share this boat with factory men, my friend AGE, and precious cargo: sacks of potatoes and onions, big tins of paint thinner, and our carefully water-proofed boxes of teaching supplies. And the wind, always the sound and the fury of the wind of constant motion. When we stop, here and there for Pudding, our driver, to assess the danger of a submerged tangle of roots or wood, I'm pleased to find that the reality I'd grown accustomed to was not reality at all. The jungle's voice rises up in the quiet that had been the engine's roar, and there is laughter in the splash of water against the sides of our wooden boat.
Tonight we will sleep beneath grasshoppers clinging to our bed-nets, and albino geckos racing along the rafters in search of the mosquitoes that would feed on us. But before we sleep, we will meet some of the women who live here in the jungle at this factory 'camp' for most of the year. We will sit on benches on the dock with them, bugs buzzing in the lamp-light, and we will talk about health. They are full of questions, because they rarely have anyone to ask. And I am new at this, but amazed to find that I have some helpful words. And amazed by their lives - there are few choices, but they have chosen to live here, far from their families, because here they'll have steady and strenuous work, and something to send home. Toil: I haven't ever, though I am working hard here with them.
The minutes here pass in a blur, but there is such a collection of moments left in my mind. I'm a world away again, trying to write something sensible for an article, wondering about them. I don't know, either, if there is anything left of me there, nor whether it matters. There's a lot of there left in me, for what it's worth. Slowly decompressing, to become, I hope, something bigger in me than the space it will fill.
Perhaps more musings later. For now bed.
In a sky-boat. Racing along lines that won't stay straight. Steady hum over the jungle's voices, over motor and city.
Nose up, I can see only where I am, and where I've been, and the sky beneath us in blackwater.
I share this boat with factory men, my friend AGE, and precious cargo: sacks of potatoes and onions, big tins of paint thinner, and our carefully water-proofed boxes of teaching supplies. And the wind, always the sound and the fury of the wind of constant motion. When we stop, here and there for Pudding, our driver, to assess the danger of a submerged tangle of roots or wood, I'm pleased to find that the reality I'd grown accustomed to was not reality at all. The jungle's voice rises up in the quiet that had been the engine's roar, and there is laughter in the splash of water against the sides of our wooden boat.
Tonight we will sleep beneath grasshoppers clinging to our bed-nets, and albino geckos racing along the rafters in search of the mosquitoes that would feed on us. But before we sleep, we will meet some of the women who live here in the jungle at this factory 'camp' for most of the year. We will sit on benches on the dock with them, bugs buzzing in the lamp-light, and we will talk about health. They are full of questions, because they rarely have anyone to ask. And I am new at this, but amazed to find that I have some helpful words. And amazed by their lives - there are few choices, but they have chosen to live here, far from their families, because here they'll have steady and strenuous work, and something to send home. Toil: I haven't ever, though I am working hard here with them.
The minutes here pass in a blur, but there is such a collection of moments left in my mind. I'm a world away again, trying to write something sensible for an article, wondering about them. I don't know, either, if there is anything left of me there, nor whether it matters. There's a lot of there left in me, for what it's worth. Slowly decompressing, to become, I hope, something bigger in me than the space it will fill.
Perhaps more musings later. For now bed.
12.11.04
and the band played on
recycling, ads from my professional mags. torn and transformed into a forest of birches. collage is satisfying. i can follow my own rules - this time no scissors, no paint. and completion delights almost as much as creation.
hypo hyper. same same for once. and for all? thought i'd forgotten the joy of this particular etat d'affaires.
bender this week with my from-far friend. we watched and danced, ate and drank. it was good. public displays of affectation in my lubricated state.
and my task this week to learn about minds weak and otherwise. learning about self through the tales of others. less frightening than i'd have thought it would be.
we-heeeeee!
hypo hyper. same same for once. and for all? thought i'd forgotten the joy of this particular etat d'affaires.
bender this week with my from-far friend. we watched and danced, ate and drank. it was good. public displays of affectation in my lubricated state.
and my task this week to learn about minds weak and otherwise. learning about self through the tales of others. less frightening than i'd have thought it would be.
we-heeeeee!
7.11.04
3.11.04
tres tree
triste - about that crazy bush.
but i got to sit in a tree today. that was nice. it had a low, angled branch perfect for perching. i got to wait there a little while, for i was early.
and tonight the sky is very clear. winter's near - i love such nights when the sky is bright with star-light. the moon is half-hanging and tinted roux.
but i got to sit in a tree today. that was nice. it had a low, angled branch perfect for perching. i got to wait there a little while, for i was early.
and tonight the sky is very clear. winter's near - i love such nights when the sky is bright with star-light. the moon is half-hanging and tinted roux.
2.11.04
hey!
election day, hey! we shall see what we see. it matters, but then again, it don't. little changes, but nothing really does.
instead, each child should get a day a year in the curriculum to learn about how not to join the rat-race, how not to want what the jones' have, how to live a humane life without needing stuff. sound funny coming from one of the elite-to-be? what can i say - hooray for non-specialists in my conservative, elitist field??
back from 4 loverly days in the north. tamarac en jaune, flat water, grey skies, and birch that have filled my head with collages and charcoal drawings to come.
i wrote this to meine freundin:
that's about true. and karaoke and value-villaging and salt fish w/ clabbered milk (!) and a rainy pic-nic in the dark, and stacking wood and more.
and now i'm home, and delighted to be here for a few weeks to get down to business. soccer's off due to the weather tonight, so i've a free few moments, hooray!
(and i know what rhymes with oranges!)
instead, each child should get a day a year in the curriculum to learn about how not to join the rat-race, how not to want what the jones' have, how to live a humane life without needing stuff. sound funny coming from one of the elite-to-be? what can i say - hooray for non-specialists in my conservative, elitist field??
back from 4 loverly days in the north. tamarac en jaune, flat water, grey skies, and birch that have filled my head with collages and charcoal drawings to come.
i wrote this to meine freundin:
Looking out at seaguls in the bright waters of lake Superior. The house smells of woodsmoke and forest, and the sky is both grey and light and pink. I've been picking mushrooms, and drinking cheap red wine, and having fun.
that's about true. and karaoke and value-villaging and salt fish w/ clabbered milk (!) and a rainy pic-nic in the dark, and stacking wood and more.
and now i'm home, and delighted to be here for a few weeks to get down to business. soccer's off due to the weather tonight, so i've a free few moments, hooray!
(and i know what rhymes with oranges!)
24.10.04
avocado spinning
as i ravenously mow down on a fat-covered (avocado) bagel (d'ottawa), i see my gradual transformation towards becoming my father has taken another creeping step forward.
returning from a little road trip - a conference that filled me with ideas and enthusiasm and brought me to new people; a visit with an old and dear friend (a trip to mexico to celebrate his marriage?), and another (happy drinking glowing fun); the happy feeling of witnessing friends with new loves; yummy meals and yellow leaves and sunshine, and not too much sleep.
my head is full of new ideas, too, as i read a challenging treatise on different loves and different lives. new ideas and sadness - because i see echoed in its pages the very words i've heard before. it all makes sense, but these are matters of the heart, not my indominable head, and instead of feeling free, it makes me feel trapped: by what i wish i was but amn't.
and idea upon idea for the world and my work in it. the meek may inherit, but those of action fill in all the worldly colour first! ah, and new ways for the world of play and pleasure too!!
and somewhere, in the back of my mind, silence and nerves. while i've been looking forward, does my world spin on without me?
maybe i shouldn't read alone. but of course i will!
returning from a little road trip - a conference that filled me with ideas and enthusiasm and brought me to new people; a visit with an old and dear friend (a trip to mexico to celebrate his marriage?), and another (happy drinking glowing fun); the happy feeling of witnessing friends with new loves; yummy meals and yellow leaves and sunshine, and not too much sleep.
my head is full of new ideas, too, as i read a challenging treatise on different loves and different lives. new ideas and sadness - because i see echoed in its pages the very words i've heard before. it all makes sense, but these are matters of the heart, not my indominable head, and instead of feeling free, it makes me feel trapped: by what i wish i was but amn't.
and idea upon idea for the world and my work in it. the meek may inherit, but those of action fill in all the worldly colour first! ah, and new ways for the world of play and pleasure too!!
and somewhere, in the back of my mind, silence and nerves. while i've been looking forward, does my world spin on without me?
maybe i shouldn't read alone. but of course i will!
19.10.04
what rhymes with morange?
sweet sweet potatoes orange and baking in salty sauce. miso gravy will love them, love them!
i float above the room, bathed in sunshine, filled with bush-tea. fallen leaves below me, singing to the orange light that streams through the curtains.
i'd like to dream a life. but then i'd like to live it. i am dreamer. i am dream.
you can be there too. maybe you're a stranger passing through? maybe you're my mother? maybe a teacher? stay as long as you will - you can come and go - it's all a dream, we're fast asleep.
somewhere there are moons. sometimes there are tunes. the lake hosts a beaver, a giant, some loons. and a red canoe. dreamin' up a red canoe. the love canoe...
i have some dreams in mind. i knew a woman who would sit on the floor of the round homes of her patients. her hand on their knees or shoulders, eyes whatching eyes, ear turned. she treated the healers, in beads and befeathered. she would drive mothers to their dying sons. she wept at her helplessness, but she helped, i'm sure, i whatched her.
i met a gentle man, as we floated, boated to a town where i was bound. he came and crouched with me, where i was writing in the gentle river rain. and he began to talk, and also listen. and he showed me his nails, and a tiny piece of his heart. he is a father, and so he should be.
a couple in a mountain kingdom. children in the yard, with spiral aloes and a thirsty dog. he a teacher, and once a communist. she learning the trade of drugs, who'd left all to be with him, and her past ugly but true in the violence of apartheid.
in this waking dream i'm off to eat my orange salty snack!
i float above the room, bathed in sunshine, filled with bush-tea. fallen leaves below me, singing to the orange light that streams through the curtains.
i'd like to dream a life. but then i'd like to live it. i am dreamer. i am dream.
you can be there too. maybe you're a stranger passing through? maybe you're my mother? maybe a teacher? stay as long as you will - you can come and go - it's all a dream, we're fast asleep.
somewhere there are moons. sometimes there are tunes. the lake hosts a beaver, a giant, some loons. and a red canoe. dreamin' up a red canoe. the love canoe...
i have some dreams in mind. i knew a woman who would sit on the floor of the round homes of her patients. her hand on their knees or shoulders, eyes whatching eyes, ear turned. she treated the healers, in beads and befeathered. she would drive mothers to their dying sons. she wept at her helplessness, but she helped, i'm sure, i whatched her.
i met a gentle man, as we floated, boated to a town where i was bound. he came and crouched with me, where i was writing in the gentle river rain. and he began to talk, and also listen. and he showed me his nails, and a tiny piece of his heart. he is a father, and so he should be.
a couple in a mountain kingdom. children in the yard, with spiral aloes and a thirsty dog. he a teacher, and once a communist. she learning the trade of drugs, who'd left all to be with him, and her past ugly but true in the violence of apartheid.
in this waking dream i'm off to eat my orange salty snack!
18.10.04
16.10.04
astranomical!
had to pose for a photo-op. with an astranaut, aquanaut and a robotics surgery dude. after i'd asked them a "i'm not your greatest fan" kinda question. but being a woman, and the only one in our giant audience asking anything, they insisted on taking my photo - a big event, with giant teleconferenced nasa doctors in the background. so silly. i'm a gender/media slut.
11.10.04
some p omes
some kumkwatologist wrote:
i like her/ and she likes me/ too bad we are three
to which i add: too bad we never could/ see
i like her/ and she likes me/ too bad we are three
to which i add: too bad we never could/ see
7.10.04
calloo caleigh!
oh frabjous day, the hammock is restored!
and the familial fight resolved. there's chocolate again in the house, and all is well, swell, belle.
sunny so sunny warm here this october thursday. off again to the gardens to feed my waste to the world - eat little worms, eat and make supah-soil for to grow up some sumptuous fru-its and voluptuous ve-ge-t'bles.
sunshine shunsine hoorah hoorah hooray.
and the familial fight resolved. there's chocolate again in the house, and all is well, swell, belle.
sunny so sunny warm here this october thursday. off again to the gardens to feed my waste to the world - eat little worms, eat and make supah-soil for to grow up some sumptuous fru-its and voluptuous ve-ge-t'bles.
sunshine shunsine hoorah hoorah hooray.
3.10.04
ninja cool
Check out this ninja cool!
And then there's cool tunage at: cbc radio3. (gotta figure out how to put this down on my permanent tabs)
Hm - heat's on chez moi. Yay walking around in the nude again (once my flesh'nblood departs).
And then there's cool tunage at: cbc radio3. (gotta figure out how to put this down on my permanent tabs)
Hm - heat's on chez moi. Yay walking around in the nude again (once my flesh'nblood departs).
1.10.04
much ado about nothin'
nothin' goin' on. but everything's going on. the sun rises, and sets. the moon spins, and spins. waves crash, raindrops splash into puddles that rise back up through the sky.
somewhere there's an eruption brewing. somewhere...
right here.
oh, and i am learning. little bits about the world, and bigger bits about my world. know thine enemy, know thine self.
here's a dream i have. i am born. borne by warm red waters. lifted into loving arms, that become 8 warm and wet, that become a hammock, that becomes a glistening web. i am suspended in the wind, rocking above the world, seeing all the eight-legged creatures below. but there i am in the sky. and there they are in the sea. there they remain, as they must. there i must stay, as only can it be.
well, not really. but if i dreamed it, my dreamy it would be.
i think i know what i will never be. what i wish not to see. i think it's clear just what i'd choose for me, if only choices were choices and life not just lived.
somewhere there's an eruption brewing. somewhere...
right here.
oh, and i am learning. little bits about the world, and bigger bits about my world. know thine enemy, know thine self.
here's a dream i have. i am born. borne by warm red waters. lifted into loving arms, that become 8 warm and wet, that become a hammock, that becomes a glistening web. i am suspended in the wind, rocking above the world, seeing all the eight-legged creatures below. but there i am in the sky. and there they are in the sea. there they remain, as they must. there i must stay, as only can it be.
well, not really. but if i dreamed it, my dreamy it would be.
i think i know what i will never be. what i wish not to see. i think it's clear just what i'd choose for me, if only choices were choices and life not just lived.
30.9.04
got grass?
i bring handfulls of fresh cut grass to class
because it smells good and to share
(but people stare and wonder why, and i wonder why everyone doesn't want some there)
i love the moon, no really i really do love the moon
and sometimes my path bends so that i can follow the light
from the moon instead of the path that takes me into the gloom
of a room in a house with electrical lights
i used to bleed with the moon, and this pleased me but now
not so much but again soon i hope
i'll be that close to that light mixed with dark red blood
my little hairs remain unshorn but the bigger ones i still adorn
and i've got an idea. something to explore. this should be good...
because it smells good and to share
(but people stare and wonder why, and i wonder why everyone doesn't want some there)
i love the moon, no really i really do love the moon
and sometimes my path bends so that i can follow the light
from the moon instead of the path that takes me into the gloom
of a room in a house with electrical lights
i used to bleed with the moon, and this pleased me but now
not so much but again soon i hope
i'll be that close to that light mixed with dark red blood
my little hairs remain unshorn but the bigger ones i still adorn
and i've got an idea. something to explore. this should be good...
29.9.04
in my naked glory
so, my clothes went missing from the laundromat. i now make my way merrily in a flurry of blue spandex or dress pants, until either my beloved daily-wear clothes are returned to me, or i make it up to value village for some shoppin'. naked would probably be better, but alas, i'm too chilly. anyhoo - if you have m'clothes, i'd love 'em back!
in other news, i get to be a bridesmaid this summer. should be much fun. wasn't sure if my recently articulated opinions on the ultimate union, and such, would disqualify me. but apparément, non!
in other news, i get to be a bridesmaid this summer. should be much fun. wasn't sure if my recently articulated opinions on the ultimate union, and such, would disqualify me. but apparément, non!
a song Sara once taught me:
rose, rose, rose, rose,
when will i see thee wed?
i will marry at thy will sire,
at thy will.
ring, ring, ring, ring,
wedding bells on an april morn'
carve your name on a moss covered stone,
on a moss covered stone.
28.9.04
mist
the foghorn was blowing this morning. in through the diffuse white behind my window. and i was trying to keep my dreams.
in one, i remember, i had a child, somewhat deformed. in another, someone else's child, she had a minor heart defect, but was growing, too, at a tremendous rate, and we were great friends. bits of life in fragments mirror-mosaiced in my dreamy mind.
i've been thinking about my friend, with his lovely child-like way of interacting with the world. simply, simply being spontaneous with people. not thinking about impacts and all the chess that everyday life can be.
also difficult. not at all in tune with the rules. bruising egos everywhere, even as he flatters us with his attention. there is no wrong way, of course. i love him for his himness. even if he brings forth my doubts.
and in me there's the desire to be the same, though i wonder if it could ever fit. is it my own wish - to be so free? or my wish to bend to his wish, because of who he is to me, what i would be for him. hard to say.
back to dreams. the future in an instant in this heavy vault, by night. its warf and weft my history.
in one, i remember, i had a child, somewhat deformed. in another, someone else's child, she had a minor heart defect, but was growing, too, at a tremendous rate, and we were great friends. bits of life in fragments mirror-mosaiced in my dreamy mind.
i've been thinking about my friend, with his lovely child-like way of interacting with the world. simply, simply being spontaneous with people. not thinking about impacts and all the chess that everyday life can be.
also difficult. not at all in tune with the rules. bruising egos everywhere, even as he flatters us with his attention. there is no wrong way, of course. i love him for his himness. even if he brings forth my doubts.
and in me there's the desire to be the same, though i wonder if it could ever fit. is it my own wish - to be so free? or my wish to bend to his wish, because of who he is to me, what i would be for him. hard to say.
back to dreams. the future in an instant in this heavy vault, by night. its warf and weft my history.
26.9.04
yum!
Going to rejoin the folk of my summer in Guyana ce soir. You too can enjoy.
But first some soccer in the sunshine (to stretch my aching dragon-propelling muscles).
And the pondering of imponderables, thinking of unthinkables, questioning of unquestionables - you get the picture. Oh, and cookies and tea to fuel the whole business.
But first some soccer in the sunshine (to stretch my aching dragon-propelling muscles).
And the pondering of imponderables, thinking of unthinkables, questioning of unquestionables - you get the picture. Oh, and cookies and tea to fuel the whole business.
25.9.04
i miss
soft touch time in bed shared meals from the pot baths full-up and steaming hot with red wine and crêpes music blaring and dancing in the living room and smoking and wrestling on the couch and games played throughout market mornings with red-eyed coffee-slurping greasy food at the right spot tea sipped here and tea sipped with our favorite goat and napping jammed together as the sun streams in parties masterfully hosted with many very different folk gathered and tipsy and tattooed and mohawked even studiously reading tomes bike rides and value village picnics goo with wine and tasty creamy treats from the piggy playing in the park oh yes and laughing laughing much much laughing and singing and sighing even crying mostly laughing
these are just a few of the things
these are just a few of the things
24.9.04
this day
i had a shower, and the smell of it took me back to this place, but i was not alone then.
i went back for ice-cream today (as hier), and again to the community garden, this time compost bucket in hand.
i learned to row a dragon-boat.
i learned about the mind some.
i talked about sex with my friend at the bar. sex, and dissapointment. 2 separate conversations. and we wondered if i'd be an aunt soon. and we marveled at our lives before - when we worked hard, and played (somehow) harder, and lived impossibly as grad students.
i sat with another friend in the sun and heard about her love and it was lovely she's in love and loving her lover and loved beloved loving every minute, and once in a while she thinks she should be cautious but mostly forgets which is best it is best to test the limits of love and living lovingly. and one day soon her voice will fill the airwaves, and her music. i can't wait.
it was a lovely day.
i went back for ice-cream today (as hier), and again to the community garden, this time compost bucket in hand.
i learned to row a dragon-boat.
i learned about the mind some.
i talked about sex with my friend at the bar. sex, and dissapointment. 2 separate conversations. and we wondered if i'd be an aunt soon. and we marveled at our lives before - when we worked hard, and played (somehow) harder, and lived impossibly as grad students.
i sat with another friend in the sun and heard about her love and it was lovely she's in love and loving her lover and loved beloved loving every minute, and once in a while she thinks she should be cautious but mostly forgets which is best it is best to test the limits of love and living lovingly. and one day soon her voice will fill the airwaves, and her music. i can't wait.
it was a lovely day.
23.9.04
today, i walked right into
a parking meter!! a good chuckle ensued, and a stranger was good enough to mock me proper.
i was too busy reading a sign spray-painted to the sidewalk, imploring a friend of mine (tim) to call some other person sometime soon.
words wend into mind
taking their toll
i was too busy reading a sign spray-painted to the sidewalk, imploring a friend of mine (tim) to call some other person sometime soon.
words wend into mind
taking their toll
22.9.04
feast on feist
leslie feist on CBC radio3. they took her out on the street somewhere, and had her basically busking. first track fab.
isn't it lovely?
isn't it lovely?
21.9.04
borrowed wisdom
someone told me once:
that journals can be bad for health and wellness - according to somebody's study somewhere, it can be bad news to get so far into your own head, dwelling and fussing over sour feelings and such.
that lots of people do what they do because they don't know what else to do (so try to find what will make you happy, not just the next step that presents itself).
that communication is everything.
that reading different newspapers is a good idea.
that baths are great.
that art is great.
that outdoor meals are great.
that good wine is great.
that walking around with as few clothes on as needed is great.
(to which i add: outdoor baths in the nude are great)
that journals can be bad for health and wellness - according to somebody's study somewhere, it can be bad news to get so far into your own head, dwelling and fussing over sour feelings and such.
that lots of people do what they do because they don't know what else to do (so try to find what will make you happy, not just the next step that presents itself).
that communication is everything.
that reading different newspapers is a good idea.
that baths are great.
that art is great.
that outdoor meals are great.
that good wine is great.
that walking around with as few clothes on as needed is great.
(to which i add: outdoor baths in the nude are great)
20.9.04
sleeeepy - after my first upgrade exécutif
a great many hours spent waiting in an airport. bumpety bumpety bumped from flight to flight and finally. home to sunshine and clouds above our prop-plane and the port-wine stain of turning trees marking the landscape, Ontario!, below.
there were mountains and there was snow. cold lines and grey rock. an icy river too cold even to tempt me in beyond my knuckles. walking and walking up up beyond clouds, past rainbows electric against the white of icy mist and snow-dusted peaks.
this morning, last night, really - tar-filled cracks electric shocks of lightning as the underbelly of our plane rushed past throwing flashes of hallogen bright against the ground - transformed for a moment into a private storm as we raced to take-off. i was half asleep (or wished i was), but i can see the magic of it when i close my eyes.
now i'm back from the energy of youth and plans to change the world. and i should return to regular life lickety split. the quiet of my empty house (brother visiting my like-named maybe sister-in-law de futuro), but for the hum that houses my fishies.
a demain.
there were mountains and there was snow. cold lines and grey rock. an icy river too cold even to tempt me in beyond my knuckles. walking and walking up up beyond clouds, past rainbows electric against the white of icy mist and snow-dusted peaks.
this morning, last night, really - tar-filled cracks electric shocks of lightning as the underbelly of our plane rushed past throwing flashes of hallogen bright against the ground - transformed for a moment into a private storm as we raced to take-off. i was half asleep (or wished i was), but i can see the magic of it when i close my eyes.
now i'm back from the energy of youth and plans to change the world. and i should return to regular life lickety split. the quiet of my empty house (brother visiting my like-named maybe sister-in-law de futuro), but for the hum that houses my fishies.
a demain.
14.9.04
weenie me?
somebody thinks i'm a weenie. all bloggy-this and bloggy-that. is he right? am i really an exhibitionista nerdica? peut-être... but maybe i like it that way, steve.
so now i'm back from T-bay. that's right, the superior visit. munching on tasty treats by the wood stove, early morning frigid dips in the lake, hiking and biking and solo skinny-dipping in rushing rapids. needless to say, it was loverly. and here i am back at home. my apartment has been slightly remodelled (for the best, i'll admit) by the presence of my brother, though i miss the hammock that was torn from its tether by his immense weight.
and now i'm back at school (what a familiar refrain that has become). trying once again to fill my little head with words and names and diseases and treatments and all the rest. it's true that i missed the most part of neuroanatomy (praying that the familial legacy, papajohn, will pass on to me over great distances instead), but i'm here with bells on for the rest!!
oh, and another year seems to have passed in the silence between this entry and the last. my poor parents must not quite be able to believe just how old it is i've become. i sure don't feel any wiser, but i might just be ageing. i learned today that i am losing dopamine-secreting cells (the ones that keep parkinson's disease at bay, they say) at the rapid rate of 10% per decade. wow. (hey - you are too - this is no confession of impending morbidity). well.
oh, and in case anyone's wondering. my "thought of the day" (they're rare - might as well document occasionally) is that it might be worth working harder to exploit placebo effects in trying to promote wellness and such. so i think warm baths and massages and even virtual sex (!) might just find their way into my prescribing regime in the future. whatdya think about that!!
clearly i'm into rambling territory again. time, i think, to stop for now. but whatch out, as high speed internet is finally coming my way bientôt!
so now i'm back from T-bay. that's right, the superior visit. munching on tasty treats by the wood stove, early morning frigid dips in the lake, hiking and biking and solo skinny-dipping in rushing rapids. needless to say, it was loverly. and here i am back at home. my apartment has been slightly remodelled (for the best, i'll admit) by the presence of my brother, though i miss the hammock that was torn from its tether by his immense weight.
and now i'm back at school (what a familiar refrain that has become). trying once again to fill my little head with words and names and diseases and treatments and all the rest. it's true that i missed the most part of neuroanatomy (praying that the familial legacy, papajohn, will pass on to me over great distances instead), but i'm here with bells on for the rest!!
oh, and another year seems to have passed in the silence between this entry and the last. my poor parents must not quite be able to believe just how old it is i've become. i sure don't feel any wiser, but i might just be ageing. i learned today that i am losing dopamine-secreting cells (the ones that keep parkinson's disease at bay, they say) at the rapid rate of 10% per decade. wow. (hey - you are too - this is no confession of impending morbidity). well.
oh, and in case anyone's wondering. my "thought of the day" (they're rare - might as well document occasionally) is that it might be worth working harder to exploit placebo effects in trying to promote wellness and such. so i think warm baths and massages and even virtual sex (!) might just find their way into my prescribing regime in the future. whatdya think about that!!
clearly i'm into rambling territory again. time, i think, to stop for now. but whatch out, as high speed internet is finally coming my way bientôt!
19.8.04
today i hate the mall
so today was a slothenly day. i can account for only a few of the hours in which i was awake - the best were spent running at the conservation area nearby and later playing soccer with some of my favorite women. it was warm, but dry, with a healthy cape-town wind. oh, and there was sunshine and me sitting by the chess board. and sunshine and me sitting at the window in my bedroom.
and like a bad dream, there was the mall. i went there out of guilt, i think. i'd (gasp) driven a vehicle that i've borrowed out to the conservation area, and thus felt obliged to make the most of being out there on steam not fed into my bicyclette. so i popped into the mall. it's been a long, long time since i've been there - possibly years. and i see why. it's a horrible place - meant to make me think that happiness is ownership. acquisitive nonsense, i say!! (plus, the sales people were too busy with their own lively dramas to want to help me, which might me the real source of my discontent) anyhow, i couldn't bring myself to do it. i'd thought i would finally replace my running shoes - they're coming unglued, and my attempts at repairing them have been thwarted. but i just couldn't - too many choices, but then really no choices at all. oh well, i guess i'm kind of attached to the pair i have, after all these years...
no progress on the cluttered space (hardly!) that is my apartment. better luck demain, i hope. maybe i should read now. i'm reading too many books at once, and it bodes well for none of them. the question is - do i put one or two aside now, in favour of a more focused reading experience, or do i keep at it, but add no new books. ah, the tribulations of the lazy summer bums!
and like a bad dream, there was the mall. i went there out of guilt, i think. i'd (gasp) driven a vehicle that i've borrowed out to the conservation area, and thus felt obliged to make the most of being out there on steam not fed into my bicyclette. so i popped into the mall. it's been a long, long time since i've been there - possibly years. and i see why. it's a horrible place - meant to make me think that happiness is ownership. acquisitive nonsense, i say!! (plus, the sales people were too busy with their own lively dramas to want to help me, which might me the real source of my discontent) anyhow, i couldn't bring myself to do it. i'd thought i would finally replace my running shoes - they're coming unglued, and my attempts at repairing them have been thwarted. but i just couldn't - too many choices, but then really no choices at all. oh well, i guess i'm kind of attached to the pair i have, after all these years...
no progress on the cluttered space (hardly!) that is my apartment. better luck demain, i hope. maybe i should read now. i'm reading too many books at once, and it bodes well for none of them. the question is - do i put one or two aside now, in favour of a more focused reading experience, or do i keep at it, but add no new books. ah, the tribulations of the lazy summer bums!
18.8.04
got something to say?
just visited my friend andrea's blog, and decided that i simply must be as much like her as possible. and thus this blog is born.
easily done. but as for content - do i even have anything to say to you, oh wide and worldly web? likely not. but i'm a jolly good rambler, of this i'm sure. i should migrate to my hammock, and settle down to some proper musing.
ah, much better. i love my hammock, even if it's only blue. i brought it home with me from guyana, and another for my brother. i just installed it yesterday, here across the middle of my living room. yay power tools! i missed the beam on the far side (where i put my feet, and not my oh-so-precious, and somewhat heavier in spite of its bird-like proportions, head), so there's a little bit of disconcerting creaking sometimes when i climb aboard. i'm hoping that the drywall will hold. or at least that i'll be in the right frame of mind, when i finally fall, to look at it from an experientialist's perspective.
really, this is lovely. the sun is feeding my window of green, my apartment's clutter lies still far below me, and there's the sound of water (lucky fish) trickling, tickling m' ears...
today has been a lovely lazy day. we raucously celebrated my dear friend anne's impending move to another coast until the wee hours of what has become this warm and gentle day. i'm going to miss her dearly - she's all about being this super blend: of easy going & up for anything, with being honest enough to speak the hard truth if you need to hear it. i think that part of her charm, at least. a damn lot of fun, and the finest of friends. sounds a bit like i'm eulogizing her. well, she's certainly alive and well, but i guess i am mourning her of a fashion - since she's one of the many that wanders closer and then further in the socially-transient life of the grad. student.
well, perhaps i should busy myself a little with organizing some of the influx of STUFF that i've just added to my little apartment. things from london, where mamasue and papajohn are busy readying for a move to a much smaller abode. i can't quite believe i managed to fit: a table w/ 4 chairs, a large wooden blanket box, 2 more antique chairs, and a small side table into my 2 furnished rooms. but it all did fit, and actually seems to add to the feeling of spaciousness. who'daknown?
but i don't really want to work when there's fun to be had outside, do i? non. to lemoine point it is, rather. picture me frolicking in the woods. i'll be smiling, i promise.
easily done. but as for content - do i even have anything to say to you, oh wide and worldly web? likely not. but i'm a jolly good rambler, of this i'm sure. i should migrate to my hammock, and settle down to some proper musing.
ah, much better. i love my hammock, even if it's only blue. i brought it home with me from guyana, and another for my brother. i just installed it yesterday, here across the middle of my living room. yay power tools! i missed the beam on the far side (where i put my feet, and not my oh-so-precious, and somewhat heavier in spite of its bird-like proportions, head), so there's a little bit of disconcerting creaking sometimes when i climb aboard. i'm hoping that the drywall will hold. or at least that i'll be in the right frame of mind, when i finally fall, to look at it from an experientialist's perspective.
really, this is lovely. the sun is feeding my window of green, my apartment's clutter lies still far below me, and there's the sound of water (lucky fish) trickling, tickling m' ears...
today has been a lovely lazy day. we raucously celebrated my dear friend anne's impending move to another coast until the wee hours of what has become this warm and gentle day. i'm going to miss her dearly - she's all about being this super blend: of easy going & up for anything, with being honest enough to speak the hard truth if you need to hear it. i think that part of her charm, at least. a damn lot of fun, and the finest of friends. sounds a bit like i'm eulogizing her. well, she's certainly alive and well, but i guess i am mourning her of a fashion - since she's one of the many that wanders closer and then further in the socially-transient life of the grad. student.
well, perhaps i should busy myself a little with organizing some of the influx of STUFF that i've just added to my little apartment. things from london, where mamasue and papajohn are busy readying for a move to a much smaller abode. i can't quite believe i managed to fit: a table w/ 4 chairs, a large wooden blanket box, 2 more antique chairs, and a small side table into my 2 furnished rooms. but it all did fit, and actually seems to add to the feeling of spaciousness. who'daknown?
but i don't really want to work when there's fun to be had outside, do i? non. to lemoine point it is, rather. picture me frolicking in the woods. i'll be smiling, i promise.
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