m.o.,

I forgot to include pictures of the POD in my letter the other day. Note that the sky currently looks nothing like this strange, bright and sunny world that is pictured here. In fact, the POD might have been placed in front of a green screen with the sunny background photo-shopped in later, you never know.

Also, our POD came with a complimentary butterfly. He was obviously a symbol of good luck.

-pen

mzies,

So it’s hotter than ever where you’re at and rainier than ever where I’m at. Seriously, all the water in the sky has apparently been saving up for this week alone, only to pour down in buckets. Inches upon inches of rain. Which the plants and humans alike love for like, 5 minutes, and then it’s – um, can I send back my order?

I don’t mind, though. It’s Hide Your Face From the Moon Week, which is a poetic way to say I’m touchy about everything. And the fewer people tramping out to see our house and pick it apart, the better. You see? – any other week, I’d be all, sell, baby, sell! And generally positive about any interest. But this week, the rain buckets and lack of trouble are good. We like the rain buckets.

And of course with everything skewed in my mind, I’m temporarily feeling like a grouchy, terrible parent who can’t get anything right. Klutzy. Messy. Unorganized. Bratty. Slacker. And also manipulated, at the moment, re: blogging job, because the change I totally foresaw, gut instinct, is impending and soon it will be All About Petitions. And I’m not a petition kind of girl. So I’ll have to mull and consider carefully and most importantly give it some time, because nothing makes sense or feels right when the moon rules you.

I did, however, manage to complete 1 out of 2 parenting magazine articles today, and I liked the end result. It was all about gift-giving craftiness, and made me want to immediately go out and buy some materials to get started. Except – that’s not the sort of thing to be buying at the moment. That’s the sort of that’s already packed away and stored in the POD and which (incidentally) I’ve already incited a meltdown or two over. “But I want to paint, wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” I know. And J.Lo’s all, “But the books are packed away and the library sucks and I have nothing to choose from.” And I’m all, “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to pull out my old crochet project and get started on it again?” But that, too, is packed away somewhere in a box. To be unearthed someday.

Although we have pondered out loud on more than one occasion – damn, we should just sell everything in that POD. Clear out. The house is nice when it’s minimalistic. And it is. But practically speaking, some of those for-sale items are winter wear and linens and things like wedding pictures. Probably not the wisest items for a yard sale of no regrets.

You’re so funny about St. Joseph. So literal where you’re not, normally. Symbolism, M, symbolism! We must embrace it. (And make that prayer work.)

Oh! Yesterday, I had a coup, RE: The CW and satellitetv. Buried in the Internets was a forum about applying for a waiver to receive the national (as opposed to nonexistent local) signal. So I checked to see if the station in question was available for waiver, and it was, and so for $2/month, I can now watch my ANTM on Wednesdays again and not deal with this Posting-Online-Four-Days-After-Airing-Crappy-Video-Quality-Bullshit that has been orchestrated by the Tyra-nt Company. Even though I do actually have to watch it on a different TV when it airs, as two higher-priority programs are recording at the same time, and even though I kind of hate that I love the stupid show so much I’d go to these lengths – but I’m enjoying the victory. Until I move. Totes.

Also, my teeth/gums are sensitive in a hurty, not-good way. Time to switch toothpaste? Again?

I may wash away in all this rain. But I *heart* you.

love,

pen

Pennyweather,

Ok so lets see... getting out of jury duty was hard won. Though it was completely surprising come friday to realize i was released. The first time it slipped my mind by wednesday and I got called in. Whoops. The 2nd time in july I got called in but just started 'the job' so no and i didn't have to go in. 3rd times a charm apparently. And of course when it came down to it, i was glad not to have to go through the hassle even though the reading time i would've gained... and now still treacherously behind on the books.... all of them. Alas. Total problem.

Oh, and the SoundofMusicSingalong. This might be my last in a while but it really is fun to drink wine from a bottle and yell at the screen, no Maria! no don't leave! And fire off confetti poppers when they kiss and generally make a big todo everytime n/z/s appear or the baroness though you do feel bad for her in the end. Poor girl. With the war coming and what not. Ultimately though the relationship gets to you- and how they play the song, what do you do with a problem like maria? And there she is going down the aisle and then you think no wonder why i grew up hoping for Christopher Plummer to look at me askance. All of us single women (and there were like 15 of us at least) just sort of sighed and kept drinking the wine. I mean i'm not making cultural excuses Pen but obviously that is what you do with smart, outspoken women and then its all going to be ok, provided you can navigate the alps. But nevermind. good times were had. Even if we're all living in a nunnery over here due to lack of men. Anyway,

I don't know if you should've told me what the prayer was... which i find completely uh yes "harsh" uh.... or you know what i mean Pen, if he's real, and does exist, you've stuck a fellow saint into the ground and are demanding or er, exacting a promise, which um uh... and i'm having an office moment where sure michael didn't intend to hold the kid hostage with dwight as his jailor but suddenly everyone around them is looking up accomplice and felony charges and finally the good pizza arrives and jim/pam escape to the roof- and its almost unbearable to watch but you can't look away as the kid is being yelled at and says snarkladen things about dwight and the hemp he grows on his farm. I mean clearly I'm fascinated in all its eccentricities and clearly this is where my staunch Lutheran upbringing interferes with your airyfairy ;) catholic ways... Its good to know that we even have cultural barriers of complete un-understanding.... I do like the look of the statue though. But I'm a bit nervous for all of you.

Meanwhile overhere i'm embroiled in church conflict and wiser sorts than me said, but this is what makes us the church, and living it out and going through it, and its ok. Its not about homogony right? I wonder if i don't want it to be as important as it is. Like it'll let me down or decide to break up with me and then what? But it's not true. I know who I am. I have a new name as one of the judges and i saw that image, of the tree on the cliff... and it was the last thing to click into place after feeling healed and then finding my place- like being newly christened i'm sure. So i can't lose sight of that. I have a name. I know where I'm suppose to be. And people hear me, understand and care for me. That's nice. But meanwhile I need to harass so and so about the fencing, another about a room, communicate about a prayerwalk, attend a meeting, articulate my arguments, ponder spiritual direction, go on a retreat (nov.), do more prayer stuff, and continue to talk to my fellow stanchions of wisdom&vision about all of it... and fend off attacks from myself who doesn't want to care or get too close, from the enemy of my heart who says its pointless and that everyone is out to get me, and the world who says none of it matters... or that such things, insight, clarity and even mystery don't exist in the face of the job and spending $4 on tea and chips at 1130am because you're feeling snackish and have made up a new word-- forg-it. just forgit. Like forget IT, but more concise.

SO Yesterday after church, with the broiling heat over here I went to see 'thetown' and it was pretty good, and then went to islands for some salad. A very good course of activity to escape the fact that it was 93 in the shade at 4pm. Today is another such day and I am glad to have the excuse of being in the humming grumbling corporate beast. I'm going to play wii tennis for lunch and have a salad, then do a run (deliver tapes) and off to see LL, danica and joanna. Where i'll retouch the side of the weird ones and walk away from the side of drought and war.

And to tell you i do not know what I'd do without you way over there, holding up the east side of me so that i don't slam into the ocean.

(pics up coming... )
m.

m,

My weapon of choice these days on the cleaning scene is a razor blade. Unconventional, I know, but it borders on magic. Because we’re down to the nitty-gritty, the impossible-to-clean-for-the-past-five-years. The hard water build-up at the edge of faucet handles, from when we had hard water, before nano-filtration came into our lives. And the flat cooktop stove! Which looked mostly clean, but still each burner retained a stubborn border, in spite of multiple scrapings and specifically-tailored cleaning products. Now, post-razor blade? Spotless. The blading was so successful, I’m almost annoyed. It’s like five lostyears. Although now I know. For the future.

Do I sound a bit manic about the remaining details? Perhaps. Sure. But our listing overall looks awesome, no? And so I’m bent on carrying that awesomeness down through the minutiae. It’s seriously a zen practice when it comes down to it, meditative practically, melting away certain vestiges of anxiety. No, really…

St. Joseph is buried in the yard. Which, looking at the accompanying prayer, is sort of harsh. “I am going to place in a difficult position with your head in darkness and you will suffer as our Lord suffered, until this house is sold.” Sheesh. But I fully expect he’ll do what we’re asking of him, which essentially, “bringing [us] a good buyer, one who is eager, compliant, and honest, and by letting nothing impede the rapid conclusion of the sale.” Go St. Joseph, go.

Meanwhile, I’ve discovered a bit of unsavory news regarding the place we’re moving – although I guess it’s the entire state? But still. Apparently they have a problem with stinkbug infestations. I mean, ew. They try to sneak inside for the winter, and if you vacuum them up, it’s a mistake. A grave mistake. I mean, I’m not sure I find them quite as repulsive as roaches or the unspeakable bedbugs, but it’s displeasing news nonetheless.

It’s Sunday, which means two things. One (I assume), Top Model has finally been posted online. So I’ll be watching promptly. Two, it’s chili day! Weeee! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. Otherwise, I’m clearly approaching that “quieter place,” where Grandmother covers her face, or however it goes. I’m totally feeling exhausted, preoccupied and anti-social, and picky about everything. All prospective reading materials fail to appear consumable. And I can’t even watch Glee anymore, because that Rachel girl’s diva-ness was all of a sudden unredeemable and sent me over the edge.

I expect to hear soon all about the singalong, lack of jury duty (woo!) and other shenanigans. I’m off to start the chili, and perhaps change out of pajamas. Maybe.

love,

pen

I'm going on a spending freeze right after i buy chips for lunch. There was nothing but frozen peas to eat and for some reason I just couldnt see myself a way to assemble a salad either... tomorrow maybe though. I mean tomorrow, yes. I've committed. Obviously also the $3 breakfasts add up and the $2 teas... so for now anyway. I did cook breakfast for myself. Major victory. I thought for sure though the cats might eat me as they were all meowing at me and i finally got that they were expecting some handouts. Bossy cats. But no, had not thought of them.

Also I got some minor swag from work... s/llyb/nd/z. Its all the rage among the tweens. The only ones that fit were the red and black ones but they match my outfit so. Now i have ones shaped like a mic, a guitar, and one that spells rock among a few others. Yah, envy me. I noted also the producer did not get us cool swag in the form of listening devices for the head or so as not to seem greedy the EP did not tell the fit floppage place that the PAs deserved and wanted them too. Alas. So no free shoes either. Suck.

ANyway moving on. I had my chips, latte and some wii tennis. Our game was off. There's something in the water. I can't say. I think i'm boring myself with this work chatter. But i haven't been outside for so long. I did get some multi-colored post its... and am watching veronicamars- i officially have nothing to do but back up photosources... zzzzzzzzzzz.

All right, oh yah, so you're moving still. So that's crazy and the sculpey is genius. You could totally etsy that stuff too by the way. In time for christmas!? Hmm! Think about it.

My post it notes are so pretty...red,orange,yellow, light green, light blue...

m,

New plan RE: POD! It occurred to me today whilst packing boxes and stacking them sky-high into a monumental eyesore of a sculpture down in the den that we didn’t actually have to pay to move the POD. Instead, we could have the POD come stay in our yard until we move and pack up the truck from there. And wouldn’t that be cheaper? Why yes, yes it would be. By a lot. So we’ll still be able to clear out the house for staging purposes, streamlining all rooms, closets, cabinets, etc., have a place to put shit as we pack up more, and make everything look as big and airy and glamorous as possible. And other than the sculptural eyesore, at the moment everything is looking pretty good. Sure there’s a bit more trim I could paint, maybe even the bathroom vanity *cough – notgonnahappen.* But after exhausting a whole gallon of paint in various trim work, I’m sorta done. Moving on. If chipped paint here and there is a deal-breaker for you at our price point, perhaps you should move on, too.

So I ordered the POD and a bit of peace of mind with it. And this weekend we checked off various big to-do list items, such as a new bathroom sink/toilet set, random caulking of corners, mulching, grout scrubbing with some horrible toxic substance, and adding hanging baskets to the front porch. We’re looking pretty spiffy. What’s left is deck staining, window cleaning and backyard cleanup, and surely a million other little things. I’m trying to embrace the reallylongprocessthatthisis and not feel impatient or rushed. Will let you know how that’s working out for me.

Oh, and Jesus has a table! It’s so exciting. Thanks to J.Lo for expediting this process in uber-stressful times.

And when not in use, they live in a drawer.

So excited!

Thoughts on ANTM? ProRun? Did we hate Andy’s pants? (Yes.) And why can’t the Tyrant post full episodes before SUNDAY, I’d like to know.

xo,

pen-dork

m -

Let me briefly – and then I’ll let it go, I swear – whine about the fact that PODs are uber-expensive and therefore undoable. It’s a major wrench in my Moving Well, as opposed to Moving Badly, plans. Now we have to figure out something else, which so far amounts to us clearing out a big corner of the den and packing and stacking. And separating, since some crazy wacko thinks she’s going to have a Moving Sale in the midst of all this madness.

But moving on. The plan is to complete a small series of large projects this weekend, everything that has to be done before pictures are taken, and, by Wednesday, list. LIST. Like yard signage, St. Joseph statue buried, the whole nine. And once it’s listed, we’ll continue forth with leftover projects like deck-staining and window/grout-cleaning, etc. And praying. Lots of praying.

J.Lo and I visited le new town yesterday afternoon and evening, and I’m liking it. Hills, M, hills. It’s an hour from the Blue Ridge Parkway and also an hour from an apple-picking place. Besides the park and the trails and the riverwalk and the farmer’s market, all in town. Our fave neighborhood is downtown, with it’s sidewalks, bike paths and tree-lined (hilly – did I mention hills?) streets. We scouted out a few other potential houses outside the downtown area and were merely *meh* about them. Not just the houses, but the neighborhoods. There are eyesores in the midst for sure, like the sad and abandoned giant mill from Once Upon a Time. And we officially encountered our first why the eff are you moving here? snark, which made us laugh and laugh and laugh. Because we know we’re going to get a lot of that. And hopefully we’ll keep on laughing.

And I insisted on eating for dinner authentic local cuisine, but instead we ended up at Red Lobster. *sigh* I mean, I suppose the coconut shrimp with pina colada sauce was rather delicious, but still. Chain restaurant, can’t we eat there anytime? And then we scouted out the other chain stuff, like the Target (could you buy a banana there? was it a Super Target? no it was not, sadly, but it did have a Starbucks), and Marshall’s-Ross-Old Navy-and even Sam’s Club? which was mildly shocking. It’s still not clear where in the hell people buy groceries ‘round those parts, other than SuperWalMart and the ever-questionable Food L!on, but I suppose we’ll manage. I mean, obviously. We’ll persevere.

I want the house on the street with the cannon. J.Lo wants the brick two-story. We haven’t seen the inside of anything downtown yet – but we will. And you’ll hear all about it. Because apparently we’re really doing this thing.

wowza.

pen

Pen,

In a couple hours I can call in to see if I have to serve jury duty. Since the last 2 debacles I’ve wizened up and put a recurring alarm feature on my phone just in case, lets say that its not until Wednesday I get called in. Oh and of course I’ve decided to keep the shoes. I mean when I slipped that shoe on and it formed to my foot perfectly- it was like Cinderella and the slipper. Lights went off in my head. It was a complete Cheshire grin moment as I stroked the leather and smelled its awesome shoeness. Oh and speaking of Marley came in with a mouse, one that mom has been complaining about eating her birdseed. But these field mice are so frickin cute. Whatever, it was too late for this one, and I suppose diet variance for cats is good but I stopped short of him eating it on my couchchair and mom picked him up like he was covered in blood and carried him outside- it was a picture worthy moment- Marley unstruggling, arms and paws extended and body hanging down, mouse clamped in jaws with tail trailing, but I had THE shoes on so I was paralyzed and could only laugh.

Anyway, LL paid me the rest of my commission on the necklaces so that should cover it and besides paying my bills and buying supplies this is the one splurge out of that money- and budgetwise that seems fair? Reasonable maybe? I’ll save up for the wii. Because I should have one. Though my wrist is already sore from some especially vigorous wii tennis at lunch. I timed my departure to the game table after the two AP’s had left for their lunch so that they couldn’t watch to see when I left/returned. I already went beyond and above my own sense of condescending to my one AP’s freakoutfactor by arriving at work at exactly 930. It does however provoke my stealth mode. I’m a bit lazy about it but I will make it a game for the next 3 wks to be as little detected in my comings and goings as possible. I fall short of complete commitment though because pretending to research the sl/nk/t takes actual work verses just watching vmars and having a window open that makes it look like I’m researching something.

Also I know that technically my already skint PA work has run dry as the EP had wanted to kick me over to the other show but having confirmed the fact that my AP hates me when she didn’t go to bat for me for returning to the show post seattle, they hired another PA to do my job in the meantime... Which is fine. (The commute issss treacherous. Though the books on cd have been enjoyable.) So theres not much to research anyway and am just waiting for tape deliveries that only occur every other day. But otherwise it’s looking in the tv reflection to see if anyone is spying on me. Making sure no one can surprise me to the left, since the right is covered. Having the pretend work screen and x,ing off the days with the black sharpie. It’s like I’m a deadmanwalking. I mean that’s it really. That’s what it comes down to. That’s the feeling I’ve been having all day. Dead in the water and just waiting for the inevitable. And the EP keeping me on because? … she must have a soul… or feel bad or something. But my only tasks given by the new AP were more on superskrs and that blanket thing… and otherwise. Uh…. She did point out yesterday I wasn’t even on the contact sheet. So I feel the love there.

Alright, so besides that and my 2/1 jamba juice coupons, and the shoes… I mean who knows what else is going on- waiting for my nails to grow out. A meeting tonight… and timing how fast I can clear off my desk.

m.

This is a mid-september review Pen-

I was expressing jubilation i think for Cathy. She might have been leaving work the same time I was leaving work... we thought it was a pretty profound corollary. This was jubilation for you right? I don't remember but I think so. I mean you're moving to a place where I'll soon get to visit you. It's pretty amazing.
And this is where I start deconstructing time...
And this is where Rachel and I take advantage of the office breaks like free pacman/galactica and wii tennis. i play a character named cheeves. He's very good at bowling. I'm making him better at Tennis when he's not looking.
This is the courtyard party i ditched to go that holyspirit ministering to you service. Rachel had to leave early to see the end of whitecollar so you know free booze and the promise of bob performing wasn't enough to outweigh Jesus.
Here I am attempting to smell the flowers... I pause to contemplate the shape of the petals. You see i'm on the brink of revelation. And here is that marine layer i'm driving into in the morning. And here I am late night Monday after visiting anaheimvin/yrd.Of course the next day I wasn't exactly chipper to be there but I confess the lighting was great. And this pretty much describes the rest of it. . .

for m ~ a word-cloud representation of pen’s brain

Ash-

i'm having one of those days where i feel stretched apart. and misdirected. somewhere outside of myself where all my true intentions were and all the turns that led me to some self i don't recognize or fully grasp. it is probably just this place. i am notoriously allergic to both flourscent lighting and central airconditioning, and soullessness. and then, there's no view of the outside. this morning i was imagining the parking garage collapsing, and all the millions of dollars of cars being crunched. of course i imagined being able to get lolly out, but knew i could not have it both ways. the other day i imagined my house collapsing and I had become uncertain as to what i would grab and which window i would exit. just like that. i had to think for a minute about the box of writing and putting it in a leather purse so i could find it. and oh yes, the computer harddrive. right. what else. i wonder why at that moment everything took on a flat and stateless look. nothing was pleading at me. or why i'm beginning to imagine disaster scenarios...

there is of course the matter of a certain shoe purchase. i did 'just do it'. compromising both the purchase of a wii and debtpaydownness. but we'll see when they come if it was worth the sacrifice. this is an easy undue. with easy return policies. talk me through it...but i am yearning for a new wardrobe. it could be this turn to fall and school and watching too much theatre that the whole old self of me is being provoked. and my new self is stirring as well. its not a bad thing, this coming into a new self. a new name. but more time passes and the old self is left further behind and old self misses school and acting and new self wants to lose weight and write a novel and a new wardrobe incorporating argyle and fauxwool. current self thinks this is a matter of indigestion, canceling plans like the artwalk and maybe a frappachino fix, or a nap if any of myselves napped. but they don't. or counting down the days till seattle and blisse'd unemployment. i mean i have only been working for 9 wks (-1 in the middle). and have 4 more to go. its not as bad as all that. but considering my age. no, don't do that. none of the selves would agree to that.

this self has to go. this self loves that you've gotten up and gone. and can't wait to see that shiny passport pic and you stepping over an international threshold. there is so much there waiting for you- even if its ancient and familiar. this self will close her eyes and imagine that very thing- a very thing to hold and record and carry with her. after all this is no place for a beating heart to be. but for now it holds time anyway.

m.

m swirls,

The air of a hurricane is one of a kind. Even, apparently, when the hurricane doesn’t actually visit, but blessedly stays a few hundred miles offshore. Although the radar images are stunning – it’s so close! But not. Anyway, the sky, which is of course filled with swirly gray clouds, turns kind of yellow. Almost like it’s sunshine, but with a completely different feel. It’s sort of quiet (between gusts), and weighty and ominous, like pre-iceberg Titanic air, or something. This photo doesn’t at all capture it, really, although please admire our newly shiny black porch railing. J.Lo rocked it over the weekend. No more white, rusting flakiness. It’s the little things, you know, that convey sharpness.

Ooo, and speaking of, I replaced the dingy, dirty gray floormat in front of the kitchen sink with a $4, on-clearance spicy red throw rug from Target. Awesomeness. Also, omg, did you hate the formerly blue kitchen? I sort of liked the blue a lot, although it was admittedly not very kitcheny. It was the countertops from the 70s and the unfortunate wallpaper that I merely tolerated.  

Oh, my. Did Windows Live Writer just insert an emoticon on my behalf? Must explore.

Hmm. It goes on.

So anyway. It’s Thursday night, and after outlining my post about a Japanese pedophile being tried in Cambodia and claiming the girl looked 18 instead of 13 with her makeup on (lame), I’ll be enjoying some ProRun, unless Earl has other plans for our satellite dish. It is a bit touchy, admittedly. Not unlike me, at certain intervals. Which leaves me with this highly awesome paragraph and about Native American (specifically Lakota) philosophies toward womanhood. 

Follow your Grandmother Moon. Her illuminating cycles will transform your spirit." Begin with the Grandmother Moon at her brightest and most open. This is a time of outward activity and high energy. Sleep where the moonlight touches you. Walk outside where there are no artificial lights. Feel joy and creativity. As the Grandmother begins to cover her face, begin to withdraw into a quieter, less social place. Move to that inward place that is more about "being" than "doing." In the dark of the moon, when bleeding, the veil between you and the Great Mystery is the thinnest. Be receptive to visions, insights, intuitions. Go to a quiet separate place such as a Moon Lodge. Later, come out of the dark, a woman with a cleansed body. As the moon returns, come back out into the world, carrying your vision.

How much do we love this? Discuss.

xo,

pen-moon

Morning,

So the cold has progressed from the head to the chest, per natures instructions. I have a bottle of cough syrup on my desk, some tylenol cold/sinus, some chapstick and scratchy tissues at the ready. I can't say my head is completely clear but there are some coherent thoughts there buzzing around. I almost died yesterday around 2 when all this work i had done became irrelavant and so i left at 3. How does one remain zen in the office? when one just wants to curl up under the desk and sleep... Also my officemates can hear everything. Those cubicle walls are thin. Every sneeze, squeeky chair swing... though my AP i think is constantly listening to music. So that's good. But still. Snarf. Hack. (que sounds of gasping and gurgling)

ANyway i've managed to bore myself with even that contemplation. Its a a good thing I can type with my eyes closed. The only other thing worrying at me is the idea they're secretly judging me for being sick and for leaving early or showing up at 10 everyday. I do tend to aim for 930 but still. Oh and the fact that about 1/2 the time, when i sneeze, on any given day and particularly when sick, I sometimes get shooting tingling pain, numbness and weakness thru my arms to my hands. I've done some research and it may indicate a compressed nerve. Which is super to secretly or not so secretly think that my neck will one day be the death of me. I mean i've always known the chiros have never completely fixed those top 2 bones called axis and atlas... but then more research revealed that its perhaps the troublesome C6. Who's to say? Who's to say? Either way it would be appropriate to say neck problems abound. I guess I never felt like delving into the issue too deeply. It would've been nice to do so when i had insurance is all i'm saying. All this discovery and interest in such things like this and allergies would be better served in another world and in another time. I suppose i should just go and insure myself... hmm.

And What if i didn't have the internet? I just don't know.
Besides that this whole hotmail vs. gmail thing has left me in a sea of who knows.

i've got to go. This has been sitting here for like 3 hours. I'm getting iced tea... and lunch. I promise nothing onthe matter of coherent thought but that hopefully i'll be better soon. It's never good to think much when one feels this way anyway. Like mental note: panic about the following (at a later time): job, insurance, death, writing, art projects. Just don't lose my narrative thread. Perhaps its not other peoples narrative threads i've lost. It's currently myown...

Am so proud of your awesome sculpey. It seems magical and unknown to me and all this fixit surge of energy. The blue was heinous in all ofitsbluewrongness. ANd i'm totally ignoring what you said about jessica fletcher... though it occurs to me it does plague her an awful lot.

Looking fwd to prorun, health, more emails from you, and rain.
m.