Really, what on earth was that gak-like substance melted in your stove? Bet it smelled awesome!
Well so here I am. Right eye twitching and occasionally leaking out the far corner. It's Set Up for Vacation Bible School week. Which does tap into my crafty spirit, although the marble wall did thwart me. Yesterday we made a well out of a table wrapped in last year's paper brick wall, and I rimmed the top edge in sand and thinned-out glue.
I'm in that phase of feeling like Facebook is impossibly stupid, full of inconsequential drivel, so I either need to change whoever's showing up in my feed or stick to the short-short list (because I don't want to miss out on gak, that's the good stuff) or just not check it so much at all.
There's a very good chance I'll finish the book I'm reading, which is not even the usual fluff-fare. Amazing. I feel all bookish again. And I'm excited that we've picked another book to read together!
Three weeks without satellite dish and I miss it not at all. Hulu and Netflix together are more than adequate (I say until ProRun premieres. How did you access that??)
I've painted my toes two weeks in a row and have been wearing borderline cute clothes, maybe to make up for my complete lack of chutzpah. It's raining a lot, so as to invite children's loudness and puppy's boredom and also garden soil's fungus gnats. J.Lo is having an especially bullshit time at work, fixing an impossibly long list of broken things. And let's not forget that terrible daily puzzle of tingling limbs and lost words and whether or not I'm actually losing my mind. That'd be nice to solve. But right now I could really use some pretzels.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Over here in Left-Field,
The dulcet tones of Gears of War 3 on pause is playing the background. No really it's quite soothing. Like, aw, it's bedtime, or going up in a really classy non-musak elevator that leads you to some haunted desolate place of yore. Yesterday I played through a chapter where my character's BF dies. I totally started crying. It was all sorts of traumatic. The story was definitely pointing you in that direction but you just still hate to see it happen. You want them to make it. It's rough being a remnant of civilization still trying to hangon against these creatures... but you have a leering suspicion that the monster was you. It was you all along. It's a story long told- not unlike Forbidden Planet, and the Heart of Darkness-- the thing that we are fighting and the thing that is destroying us, from within and without the earth is our own creation. I also got to fight zombies- they added a twist like nuclear radiation type- that glow and explode. Good times.
It's the fall of man, and hard to be our own legislators of the good and designating what is of the bad. The game will just be silly if there's no redemption song. This whole thing makes me want to listen to Johnny Cash.
Nevermind.
Hours have past/passed. Like no longer exist. Like going by. Since this paragraph.
I'm alternating between water and coffee. It's the 2nd day in a row that i thought i'm too exhausted after THIS conversation to go to homedepot/tj's/and ralphs. Trifecta of shopping efficiency. Not that the conversations themselves were bad. But there was something taxing- like when you're fighting to articulate, to come to a common ground- to get them to see what you're saying. And they're screaming sub-text at you. I told one person about the marriage things- keep in mind she's been married for a long long time- and she was like don't get your hopes up- or something horrible to that effect after i listed #7 for her- as if i was a. making this up or reading too much into it? or b. that it could mean anything. be about anything. I was like, well, clearly it's about marriage- As you know for the record my friend on Jeju sent this to me saying she loved it so much i had to read it- without knowing about #1-6. She said she had in mind to send this to me a couple months ago- and that further kerry said i was literally 4th in bringing up the book to her within 2 weeks. I explained it was not my fault.
#5
here next to the couch is my grand-dads old navy chest. or rather army he was in- and the bottom is army green but now it's a navy chest. i dont understand. some old hiking clothes and shoes of his are in there too- and the original ship to, label.
here we are with "teal forest"... i went with the green tint over a blue tint... then i'm going to intro black stone floor, a greenish stone shower stall and possibly a twist of ? for the counter top-- uncertain. the walls will be a moss color of some kind.
ah the space to paint... literally moving each of these plants exhausted me and the roots of this one on the table were weaving through the wood planks...
still not quite clear but close.
before the powerwasher broke? uncertain-- but my what a difference.
followed by a lovely teak oil SOAK. ah luxury. this bench above is now at the parents. the long bench is under the tv.
It's the fall of man, and hard to be our own legislators of the good and designating what is of the bad. The game will just be silly if there's no redemption song. This whole thing makes me want to listen to Johnny Cash.
Nevermind.
Hours have past/passed. Like no longer exist. Like going by. Since this paragraph.
I'm alternating between water and coffee. It's the 2nd day in a row that i thought i'm too exhausted after THIS conversation to go to homedepot/tj's/and ralphs. Trifecta of shopping efficiency. Not that the conversations themselves were bad. But there was something taxing- like when you're fighting to articulate, to come to a common ground- to get them to see what you're saying. And they're screaming sub-text at you. I told one person about the marriage things- keep in mind she's been married for a long long time- and she was like don't get your hopes up- or something horrible to that effect after i listed #7 for her- as if i was a. making this up or reading too much into it? or b. that it could mean anything. be about anything. I was like, well, clearly it's about marriage- As you know for the record my friend on Jeju sent this to me saying she loved it so much i had to read it- without knowing about #1-6. She said she had in mind to send this to me a couple months ago- and that further kerry said i was literally 4th in bringing up the book to her within 2 weeks. I explained it was not my fault.
I guess i have more books to read now besides Parade's End. Which is rather bleak at the outset. Not knowing what's coming besides the war, which England was particularly heavily traumatized by, and bleak enough without illustrating the individual will struggling. And anyway, at least i have other friends whom are used to God working miraculously and are expectant, like I am, about what on earth God is up to- even if it doesn't end in me married. We're having fun over here in parts of LA about the humor and unmistakableness of SIGNS... i mean seriously. WHAT THE WHAT.
Other than that watching Thorne and Pippa just reminded me how horribly selfish i am and how i wanted to get back to my projects, though there was repeated mostly adorable behavior of these young human beings- for instance Pippa had a rough go at one point friday night, and was totally PTS about saturday night and Thorne came in exclaiming how loud she was, crying. I said, do you want to sing to her? Just as a suggest. And suddenly she started singing 'rock abye...' which by the way- totally bleak as a song- and i cut her off like a door slam and said, no sing that song you were singing all day- 'to God be the Glory- cuz every 4 1/2 year old goes around singing hymns and insisting on listening to songs that are "beautiful" like classical music!? so She starts singing and Pippa immediately stops, calms down, and within 1 minute was snoring on my shoulder. Thorne turned to leave and said, if she starts crying again, I'll come in and sing again, ok? OK.
In another letter i'll go on about the weekend blowbyblows. But for now, here are a few photos of more in progress nonsense--
oh ps #2
carryON: Note the canvas to the left and paint box ready to go, the mantel will be totally cleared, and on the right Joanna's bench, the cross mom made me that she thought was "me" and my awesome statue of st. francis.
m.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
well,
Like so many things in my world of late, I see there's an unfinished, left-behind draft in our queue, and oh look, old pictures.
The Italian bread I baked, which was tasty but also very beautiful, I feel.
The view from M&C's porch last weekend. With my coral-painted toes. I need to redo them; they looked pretty for a minute.
The Italian bread I baked, which was tasty but also very beautiful, I feel.
A selfie when feeling particularly ponderous on the back porch (my recent favorite spot. but will it remain so when it gets wicked hot? to be seen).
J.Lo playing guitar. I adore.
The view from M&C's porch last weekend. With my coral-painted toes. I need to redo them; they looked pretty for a minute.
The garden seems more successful this year already? I mean it's not awesome yet (I await Year 3 soil), but the snap peas are like a drive-by snack bar whilst throwing ball for the puppies and apparently there's an actual pumpkin growing in the volunteer patch? The tomato plants are robust and I need to rig some string through the stakes tomorrow. And weed. By which I mean cover all things weedy with wet newspaper and hay. If it doesn't rain, which it has been, everyday since forever it seems. Tropical what. Oh, and peppers! And eggplant! Oh my. They and the lettuce all look relatively healthy.
I did some mildly obsessive googling on PdR from AD, because I was upset about her face not looking like her face - which I get happens all the time in Hollywood, but I felt betrayed in the manner of Virgina Madsen hopping on the Botox train post-Sideways. Possibly worse. And my conclusion is that you're just going to have to ask TH in person about it, because I don't think it happened. Seriously. Google image "PdR" and "AD premiere." Her face looks normal again. From a month ago. So, wacky eye/nose/botox job part of the Lindsey Bluth storyline, maybe? Just a theory, but it's important at the same time!
Mmm, cheese and crackers. Followed possibly by pilfered chocolate.
Ah, Seppuku. I did know that word from a previous Wiki encounter. Gory, man. Don't do it. Despite all circumstances. On a semi-related sidenote, I do wish I were there to either troubleshoot your computer and laptop and fix them, or else help you take a hammer to them, whichever the situation calls for. And help you set up your home, or at least bask in all the details, like floor words and painted cabinets and tea corners.
And when are you coming to visit? I guess you need a phone service first. Priorities, schmiorities! (I do assume you'll notify me immediately of your newly established number.)
I anxiously await Bruckner's sober or not sober response to your response - either way would be awesome. Why he doesn't have a blog oh wait post to his blog is beyond me. Where are you, Bruckner!
All right, I'm going back to my books (two of them!) on a Saturday night.
xoxox.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Penolin,
Hello, it is my turn to write you. I received your last letter. I love the rose and the keys. Enclosed you'll find updates to the house, badly captured but there they are, etc.
Let's talk God. Obviously I'm being baited on both sides and i finally feel mentally cogent enough to address it. (not baited in a badway, as i feel God is His own best defender) Nevermind that yesterday, unrelated, I had this idea to have breaded chicken strips for breakfast and 2 pieces of frenchbread as toast. I threw up the chicken like a cat that overate within 1minute of the exchange. Trauma. I was out due to weirdness for the rest of the day. So it's not that we can't argue inexplicable things happen to people. And on the otherside LL's movie tithes 10% of whatever donations they receive to random people. And everyone takes a turn. When i saw LL on Saturday she gave me a small bundle of $20 notes. And she went on to explain, as i recalled what they do with God's money. And she says its not often they have it, but that she felt she was to give it to me. I had an overdue student loan bill for $119.76. They gave me $120.00.
I'm reminded of this conversation I had with Matt, like myself was inundated with legalism and religion from VCS but likewise had an opening to the spiritual side of life- so it's not that your and bruckners Catholic baggage is vastly different then our conservative evangelical non-denom baggage. It is specific though. It does carry certain things. He, like I once did, shares the same reticence of overt-God talk. The context always being judgment, condemnation, an inablility to communicate what is profound and personal. Believe this or else. But I believe, you believe whatever you want. But his brother and sister went to an even hoightier non-religious school and have no experience of overt God talk- as i tried to explain to him. And that sharing who Jesus is, is not a slap in the face that we can sometimes think it is. Jesus is radical. There is no other religion on earth that has what He has. It is not LOVE in the air-fairy sense. It is forgiveness. The concept of forgiveness so familiar to us is only because of our Christian heritage. You won't find it anywhere else. We take it for granted.
It goes to the core of who we think Jesus is. It's in your relationship with Him- that's where the power lies. The trappings of religiousness aside. Since hypocrisy is a crimson and too easy excuse to keep people out of the church. It should be to everyones great relief that belief in Jesus is not a pass toward perfection. It is an acknowledgment of being his, and being his by grace and mercy and choice and that we aren't from acceptance onward on some golden ladder upward to goodness in spite and because of the false things we do cling to. Except that being His we seek to be good but only through and by him- but its not an error free pass. From a personal place, most people who've encountered Jesus, think of Him as having saved them. That they don't have to carry their burdens anymore. That they are free. They can go from a place of desperate and clinging (trying to be 'good'/better people) to joy and freedom (being who they are, honest, broken, and wholly accepted and claimed by Him).
The arguments of the beautiful lost soul of Bruckner are common. Not less valid- but here knowledge of the Bible would go far to help walk with him in his observations. The people and stories of the bible say the same thing. They shout the same grief and tension of living in this world. Psalms for instance. Parts of Romans etc. Book after book infact. Brilliant wisdom in the heros of the stories- but glaring faults. Because i'm not arguing in the strict sense my answer is that nature itself is out of alignment, just like we ourselves are fallen. And while evil is allowed, i dont think God causes it. Can i easily explain this no, so i humbly submit we aren't arguing from an intellectual or theological base but experientally- which is why we'll return to Jesus. And a conversation that always starts from a lack of experience, and a very serious need to have experience. We are all looking for Him.
I am hesitant to believe Bruckner has had no experience of God though. But if he hasn't then i would say to ask God to prove He's there. And ask specifically how He could show up. It's an opening. It's a start. And the church as an institution is prone to corruption because we are prone and start from a place of corruption. Which is why it starts with Jesus. And ends with him.
The girl in laung namtha asked if she really had to forgive people- a basic, one of the most profound tenants of Christianity. A struggle. A journey. All of those words. Of the hows and whys. But still not less powerful because of it. It's not a debasement. Grudges, anger, hate, fear, anxiety- all of those are words of bondage. But then this is a language and a story that is familiar to me. And can our need to forgive actually be placed toward God-- i think so. and toward ourselves, definitely.
And it's not that my relationship to Jesus isn't constantly undergoing change- there was something there in this scripture for me-- And when the men had come to him, they said, “John the Baptist has sent us to you, saying, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?’” 21 In that hour he healed many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight. 22 And he answered them, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers[e] are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. 23 And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”
As i said, it had me weeping with relief. Some part of me needed to know even now that Jesus is who he says he is. That like John the Baptist- in prison at the time, at the point of death- to know that all he proclaimed and heralded had come to pass and wasn't a lie. I think to reach out to God is an act of vulnerability. And to share the struggle or absence equally so. And to be in an honest place is the best one. I can say, more so now, that for me it's not proving a for or against- but that Jesus is who he says he is. And it is powerful and it is full of love.
And it's ok to not be at that point of speaking it out- but i do feel it's a worthy goal to walk toward- the concept of proclamation, and to ask God what that might look like- in a one day sort of way. Because it acknowledges who we are without him. I know we have natural capacities of 'good' just as we have capacities for certain 'evils'-- but to be assured in faith, in Christ- its not so much a phew i'm relieved, i dodged the hell bullet. And i got the heaven ticket- it is who he is for me right now, in the depth of my struggle. And who i am with him, and where i'd be without him. it's THEE STORY> your voice. A constant unending journey. I get what you say about showing vs. telling. And what you're cultivating in that, and it's true-- but it is also a protection against, if i fail, if i am this or that- then you won't blame it on me being christian kind of thing also. Or hold me to some impossible standard that we do and will fall short on-- but that's where being honest and humble come in, and where in our brokeness Jesus is allowed to enter in. The dark places-- to shed light in. To reveal. Allows people to breathe out their own darkness. Their own secrets. Their own chains they don't want to acknowledge or tell anyone about or ones they think by sheer will they can manage and fight their way through. Those places aren't of God you know, but it's where He needs to be. The power of being able to say THIS happened to me, and look where i am now. Look how God redeemed that wound. I was HERE and I met God and he slowly moved me to this place... That's no effort of will. It's a different kind of fight. It's his pleasure. It's his Glory- to free us.
He saves. I am forgiven. No struggle. No burden. He is with me. I am His. I try to pick them all up again. To examine the ugliness of myself and all around. He calls me back. He says set it down. He says I love you.
All this talk excites me. I am infact happy to be baited. Because I can once again and over and over revisit how great His love for me is. And in turn reflect, whether you feel it or not how great His love is for you and for Bruckner. And how excited i am when people discover it and know it for themselves. There is a freedom in declaring it. The waters are abundant. Unceasing. Neverending.
let's keep talking... but for now we may return for a small reprieve to the changes in my living room. the toxic furniture is gone-- note the tv is staying along with the xbox. to which i will refer to as my dowry should i ever have a husband.... the picture is there just because i like it. joannas couch is covered in red-- but a lush dark leather underneath that's gone a bit wonky because of some sealant melting and whatnot. how do we fix that?! my table, the one the parents made for my grandma... etc etc. the chest is going though- and the wall color will be something else as well. we'll see.
my bedroom waiting for a queensized bed... sanding, restaining, repainting... oh and my 19 yr old cat marley.
home- is a meditation that home is where the heart is, and my heart is with God as he is in mine... i need to put sealant on the floor to help with the staining dirt traffic problem. to the left is the tea corner- totally new and exciting. as well as recycling. that's where dad is convinced a dishwasher should go. to which i shrug my shoulders. note the light blue on the wall is new too. and in the far bg the curtains hanging over the pantry-- until i get cabinets? one day? and the plaid floor... i'd like to remove the carpets but that's not until i seal the floor. etc etc. so glad to have a picture taking device again.
my love to you from over here, m.
Let's talk God. Obviously I'm being baited on both sides and i finally feel mentally cogent enough to address it. (not baited in a badway, as i feel God is His own best defender) Nevermind that yesterday, unrelated, I had this idea to have breaded chicken strips for breakfast and 2 pieces of frenchbread as toast. I threw up the chicken like a cat that overate within 1minute of the exchange. Trauma. I was out due to weirdness for the rest of the day. So it's not that we can't argue inexplicable things happen to people. And on the otherside LL's movie tithes 10% of whatever donations they receive to random people. And everyone takes a turn. When i saw LL on Saturday she gave me a small bundle of $20 notes. And she went on to explain, as i recalled what they do with God's money. And she says its not often they have it, but that she felt she was to give it to me. I had an overdue student loan bill for $119.76. They gave me $120.00.
I'm reminded of this conversation I had with Matt, like myself was inundated with legalism and religion from VCS but likewise had an opening to the spiritual side of life- so it's not that your and bruckners Catholic baggage is vastly different then our conservative evangelical non-denom baggage. It is specific though. It does carry certain things. He, like I once did, shares the same reticence of overt-God talk. The context always being judgment, condemnation, an inablility to communicate what is profound and personal. Believe this or else. But I believe, you believe whatever you want. But his brother and sister went to an even hoightier non-religious school and have no experience of overt God talk- as i tried to explain to him. And that sharing who Jesus is, is not a slap in the face that we can sometimes think it is. Jesus is radical. There is no other religion on earth that has what He has. It is not LOVE in the air-fairy sense. It is forgiveness. The concept of forgiveness so familiar to us is only because of our Christian heritage. You won't find it anywhere else. We take it for granted.
It goes to the core of who we think Jesus is. It's in your relationship with Him- that's where the power lies. The trappings of religiousness aside. Since hypocrisy is a crimson and too easy excuse to keep people out of the church. It should be to everyones great relief that belief in Jesus is not a pass toward perfection. It is an acknowledgment of being his, and being his by grace and mercy and choice and that we aren't from acceptance onward on some golden ladder upward to goodness in spite and because of the false things we do cling to. Except that being His we seek to be good but only through and by him- but its not an error free pass. From a personal place, most people who've encountered Jesus, think of Him as having saved them. That they don't have to carry their burdens anymore. That they are free. They can go from a place of desperate and clinging (trying to be 'good'/better people) to joy and freedom (being who they are, honest, broken, and wholly accepted and claimed by Him).
The arguments of the beautiful lost soul of Bruckner are common. Not less valid- but here knowledge of the Bible would go far to help walk with him in his observations. The people and stories of the bible say the same thing. They shout the same grief and tension of living in this world. Psalms for instance. Parts of Romans etc. Book after book infact. Brilliant wisdom in the heros of the stories- but glaring faults. Because i'm not arguing in the strict sense my answer is that nature itself is out of alignment, just like we ourselves are fallen. And while evil is allowed, i dont think God causes it. Can i easily explain this no, so i humbly submit we aren't arguing from an intellectual or theological base but experientally- which is why we'll return to Jesus. And a conversation that always starts from a lack of experience, and a very serious need to have experience. We are all looking for Him.
I am hesitant to believe Bruckner has had no experience of God though. But if he hasn't then i would say to ask God to prove He's there. And ask specifically how He could show up. It's an opening. It's a start. And the church as an institution is prone to corruption because we are prone and start from a place of corruption. Which is why it starts with Jesus. And ends with him.
The girl in laung namtha asked if she really had to forgive people- a basic, one of the most profound tenants of Christianity. A struggle. A journey. All of those words. Of the hows and whys. But still not less powerful because of it. It's not a debasement. Grudges, anger, hate, fear, anxiety- all of those are words of bondage. But then this is a language and a story that is familiar to me. And can our need to forgive actually be placed toward God-- i think so. and toward ourselves, definitely.
And it's not that my relationship to Jesus isn't constantly undergoing change- there was something there in this scripture for me-- And when the men had come to him, they said, “John the Baptist has sent us to you, saying, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?’” 21 In that hour he healed many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight. 22 And he answered them, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers[e] are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. 23 And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”
As i said, it had me weeping with relief. Some part of me needed to know even now that Jesus is who he says he is. That like John the Baptist- in prison at the time, at the point of death- to know that all he proclaimed and heralded had come to pass and wasn't a lie. I think to reach out to God is an act of vulnerability. And to share the struggle or absence equally so. And to be in an honest place is the best one. I can say, more so now, that for me it's not proving a for or against- but that Jesus is who he says he is. And it is powerful and it is full of love.
And it's ok to not be at that point of speaking it out- but i do feel it's a worthy goal to walk toward- the concept of proclamation, and to ask God what that might look like- in a one day sort of way. Because it acknowledges who we are without him. I know we have natural capacities of 'good' just as we have capacities for certain 'evils'-- but to be assured in faith, in Christ- its not so much a phew i'm relieved, i dodged the hell bullet. And i got the heaven ticket- it is who he is for me right now, in the depth of my struggle. And who i am with him, and where i'd be without him. it's THEE STORY> your voice. A constant unending journey. I get what you say about showing vs. telling. And what you're cultivating in that, and it's true-- but it is also a protection against, if i fail, if i am this or that- then you won't blame it on me being christian kind of thing also. Or hold me to some impossible standard that we do and will fall short on-- but that's where being honest and humble come in, and where in our brokeness Jesus is allowed to enter in. The dark places-- to shed light in. To reveal. Allows people to breathe out their own darkness. Their own secrets. Their own chains they don't want to acknowledge or tell anyone about or ones they think by sheer will they can manage and fight their way through. Those places aren't of God you know, but it's where He needs to be. The power of being able to say THIS happened to me, and look where i am now. Look how God redeemed that wound. I was HERE and I met God and he slowly moved me to this place... That's no effort of will. It's a different kind of fight. It's his pleasure. It's his Glory- to free us.
He saves. I am forgiven. No struggle. No burden. He is with me. I am His. I try to pick them all up again. To examine the ugliness of myself and all around. He calls me back. He says set it down. He says I love you.
All this talk excites me. I am infact happy to be baited. Because I can once again and over and over revisit how great His love for me is. And in turn reflect, whether you feel it or not how great His love is for you and for Bruckner. And how excited i am when people discover it and know it for themselves. There is a freedom in declaring it. The waters are abundant. Unceasing. Neverending.
let's keep talking... but for now we may return for a small reprieve to the changes in my living room. the toxic furniture is gone-- note the tv is staying along with the xbox. to which i will refer to as my dowry should i ever have a husband.... the picture is there just because i like it. joannas couch is covered in red-- but a lush dark leather underneath that's gone a bit wonky because of some sealant melting and whatnot. how do we fix that?! my table, the one the parents made for my grandma... etc etc. the chest is going though- and the wall color will be something else as well. we'll see.
my bedroom waiting for a queensized bed... sanding, restaining, repainting... oh and my 19 yr old cat marley.
my love to you from over here, m.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
hello love,
Also, I'm having a glass of wine. Bread is baking in the oven, Italian-style, a la Pinterest too. K.Lo helped put everything in the mixer and for nine minutes we watched the dough hook go round and round.
The deck, as per last week's FB post, is completely rearranged furniture-wise, and I like it. There's all this floor space in the middle, and the red table is squirreled away in a corner, where I'm writing now. The seed-starters are on the table out of puppy's reach. And I can quasi-hide. It's a reincarnation of always choosing a sit in the back of the class.Guess who gave me this awesome rose - hag neighbor. I mean. There was obviously a price; I had to listen to a string of Life Complaints I Hope to Never Make. But it was nice? It's a lovely rose.
I love the image of your painted floor - a picture please - and the walls and all the other transformations. I need pictorial evidence of what is happening over there! What is filling your days.
And Bruckner's POV makes me laugh - I've conditioned myself over the many years to automatically cringe at overt God-talk. I do wonder. Because for me in my quieter ways I'm inclined to show rather than tell people what I value? But I witness you on your sage-path, amazed. But then, my husband the secular-humanist. I have my foot in both worlds, and I understand each side.
Tonight: fish tacos, twilight 4: part 2 (finally!), more painting of keys. Tomorrow: some uber-inexpensive babyback ribs from Aldi and an evening bonfire, I hope! And Arrested Dev in there, somewhere.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Dear Bruckner,
Good morning, in that strange hobbit hall you call home. I don't exactly know what a hobbit hall is, i think i meant hole, but this is just to illustrate how tired we all are. I remember carpet. The bathroom and bedroom being to the right, kitchen back and to the left or something. . . The problem as i see it with me is that the new old stuff is harder to relate as new or bizarre. Except for the religious stuff, because let me tell you, things are ku-razy. OH strangely enough i had a dream i was at a conference that the godless attitude present in todays startrek was in direct opposition to rodenberrys original intent and eastern/jewish principles... is this true? I have no idea. But i dreamed it. I think actually it's not true- they're more humanistic in philosophy- the triumph of the human spirit, it's indomitableness... and that its a constant moving away from the base savagery to greater intellectual heights- but then what do you do with KHAN? Apparently tuck him away and have kirk say something like, revenge is bad. Blah blah blah. Let's be good boys and girls.... anyway, Something about spock not believing in miracles during the actual movie. People in the audience laughed- since they seriously couldn't comprehend the character references- (like jim being corn-fed. mwah!). And i cringed. Thank SCIENCE. Did you ever see that SouthPark episode?
Also a world without God is just exceeding lame. I got into an argument with my cousin because he was trying to come from a position positing the intellectual and animal instincts of humanity as if there were no spiritual capacity in man, which is just an also equally idiotic concept, whatever you believe- that i stopped him, as i always do because we can only argue so far and then i lazer cut a line in the steel beam and say, well, here's me and my belief in God so i'm not going to pretend that your particularly narrow theorizing is a place i can play when God is right there behind me.
And moving my parents literally a few boxes at a time puts me to sleep to relate. I am painting the bathroom cabinets teal forest. I painted the word HOME on the floor of the kitchen just like that in that particular font- as a meditation on home not being here at all, but yes, in the heart, and why? because God is there... and where am I - in His heart. What else... sarah gave me her ipod, albiet a bit reservedly- not to lose it- i will state here for the record the incident i related about nha trang and losing both my phone and my ipod. But whatever. Sophia is giving me an iphone. Ellie gave me a box of clothes. My dad has given me a dowry in the form of a 50" tv i loathe. And the xbox- so now i can play gears of war 3. Something to celebrate clearly.
Did i tell you the weird marriage threads? Let's relate them:
1. Tess wrote: "i had a dream about u m, like 2 weeks ago...you were selling jewelry that you made in a store and i was looking at it, and it was super expensive and you were look a highly paid artist...and i asked you how you liked your trip, and you blushed..i asked you if you found love, and you said yes but now you had to choose between the two of them!! LOL!! so weird and random!!"
2. The latest copy of BRIDES magazine is delivered to my house sans address label.
3. I make my mother coffee. She says since she dreamed that she had tasted this coffee in the dream that she would relate she was holding a baby and that the baby in her arms was telling her she was having a baby.
4. I dream that a drunk groomsman is ruining my wedding by wanting to talk about the same-sex marriage debate. I say no. My fiances sister would like me to hear the groomsman out. She gets offended when i say, well you might as well have a donkey performing the ceremony. She leaves. My fiance is having issues with his tophat. There are a couple life-sized surprise bags down the aisle and in contemplate putting my veil down.
5. And then at the retreat where more God stuff went down, i drew a picture. I take home the picture and put it on the refrigerator- my mom then says, oh that's a lovely bride and groom. I step back, sure enough there they are- unmistakable and hard not to see once pointed out to you...
6. Dreamt i married this guy after the first date from church.
What else...
ok i'm out of time... callie and i are hiking. and that durned parrot woke me up thinking it was being a crow that was being murdered. not so... a new pet?? hello. hello.
Also a world without God is just exceeding lame. I got into an argument with my cousin because he was trying to come from a position positing the intellectual and animal instincts of humanity as if there were no spiritual capacity in man, which is just an also equally idiotic concept, whatever you believe- that i stopped him, as i always do because we can only argue so far and then i lazer cut a line in the steel beam and say, well, here's me and my belief in God so i'm not going to pretend that your particularly narrow theorizing is a place i can play when God is right there behind me.
And moving my parents literally a few boxes at a time puts me to sleep to relate. I am painting the bathroom cabinets teal forest. I painted the word HOME on the floor of the kitchen just like that in that particular font- as a meditation on home not being here at all, but yes, in the heart, and why? because God is there... and where am I - in His heart. What else... sarah gave me her ipod, albiet a bit reservedly- not to lose it- i will state here for the record the incident i related about nha trang and losing both my phone and my ipod. But whatever. Sophia is giving me an iphone. Ellie gave me a box of clothes. My dad has given me a dowry in the form of a 50" tv i loathe. And the xbox- so now i can play gears of war 3. Something to celebrate clearly.
Did i tell you the weird marriage threads? Let's relate them:
1. Tess wrote: "i had a dream about u m, like 2 weeks ago...you were selling jewelry that you made in a store and i was looking at it, and it was super expensive and you were look a highly paid artist...and i asked you how you liked your trip, and you blushed..i asked you if you found love, and you said yes but now you had to choose between the two of them!! LOL!! so weird and random!!"
2. The latest copy of BRIDES magazine is delivered to my house sans address label.
3. I make my mother coffee. She says since she dreamed that she had tasted this coffee in the dream that she would relate she was holding a baby and that the baby in her arms was telling her she was having a baby.
4. I dream that a drunk groomsman is ruining my wedding by wanting to talk about the same-sex marriage debate. I say no. My fiances sister would like me to hear the groomsman out. She gets offended when i say, well you might as well have a donkey performing the ceremony. She leaves. My fiance is having issues with his tophat. There are a couple life-sized surprise bags down the aisle and in contemplate putting my veil down.
5. And then at the retreat where more God stuff went down, i drew a picture. I take home the picture and put it on the refrigerator- my mom then says, oh that's a lovely bride and groom. I step back, sure enough there they are- unmistakable and hard not to see once pointed out to you...
6. Dreamt i married this guy after the first date from church.
What else...
ok i'm out of time... callie and i are hiking. and that durned parrot woke me up thinking it was being a crow that was being murdered. not so... a new pet?? hello. hello.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Old-Same,
How do you fare?
It's been a long time since I've written. In coming home I've lost the lodestone of me. I'll find it again. We'll have more to say. Things not just whirling around. For the record, you and me, we're dancing around big topics. Spiritual things. Encounters. Tests. Tremors and upsets. Divides. Course setting things i feel- that will when we look back upon our letters be unwritten and the weight of the unwritten, oh my. That's where we betray ourselves. Or simply cannot find words to say. I understand. I've spent two months speaking, but I almost wonder if Jeju will ever come up again. It must? Rocksolid was the change. I tell people: it was a challenge. it was anxiety of the body divorced of the mind. I didn't feel safe. I meditated on the rocky shores almost every day for months and again and again the word - safe. I felt drawn to intimacy with Jesus. I understand, as John the Baptist did that he could die knowing that Jesus was the one who was to come- he didn't have to look for another. I wept at the thought. The time was about abandonment of self into God's hands. Walking the way of holiness. Coffee. One day being delivered into God's heart. Feeling encompassed. Feeling able to love fully the place He had put me. And then the journey and travel of it all- the rest. And then i came back. And everyday seemed much the same as a long time ago but different anxieties, looking peripherally at the job. Bothered but not that i don't own a pair of jeans. That i need a queen mattress. That there's nothing in my room but a bed and a tv. I don't have a cellphone, or a dayplanner. I don't even know if i can hold onto the things that have passed. past. And my nails are splitting. I'm drying out all over. I'm weirded out over the prospect of gaining weight. I don't know where the footholds are. Or where in the house I should be.
And between those things, I'll just mention for myself that I had an encounter with a lightening rod of God. (at the conference aut invited me to) I said to her, oh my, you're a lightening rod. She said, keep receiving unless you're driving. It built up till the next day and poured over for hours. I saw the heavens. There was an angel behind danica. I was in tears. After, taken up, tired and calm. The next day burning with God's love for you, for anyone I saw. And then there was the tea, and J speaking in tongues. And the church conflict- losing the building, the letters, the conversations and dipping back in. And now a womens retreat. And the dreams, the bridal magazine, the prophetic elementary school friend, and the same-sex debate trying to ruin my wedding (that dream). My husband to be, having issues with his top-hat. Not, defined. Oh and my birthday.
Lately I've found God wants me to continue to be relational. people over lists. worship over responsibility. I think He is patently rejecting my concept of projects, and bulldozing. I still don't even know if I'm at my full capacity. It doesn't seem like it as the only thing i got done was cleaning out a linen closet and doing laundry. With plenty of breaks. I've also found there's even less on Tv then there was when I left. I find myself most comfortable in front of the computer. When it's not crashing. I still dont have the cord for the laptop and indeed the lens and my camera are no longer speaking.
It all feels not myself and jumbled.
And my jaw is constantly clenched. Yoga helped a little bit this morning. But still i barely relaxed and even though i tried to close my eyes after battling sentient military ships via xbox... i just couldn't. I kept playing. Oh and meanwhile the house- kitchen cabinets mostly gone through, j's couch where the old one used to be and a middleages inspired bench where the stereocabinet was. My grandfathers navy chest where the sidetable used to be. So it comes, it goes- it's evolving. Soon what once was will be gone and what comes will be what is.
Ok, i'm off to pick popcorn out of my teeth and hydrate. Oh and watch ONCE. THe office is making me so angry. Just nevermind. I did see the end of AR by the way- but i just didn't know or care much about who to root for.
m.
-for later: postcards, the everyday.
It's been a long time since I've written. In coming home I've lost the lodestone of me. I'll find it again. We'll have more to say. Things not just whirling around. For the record, you and me, we're dancing around big topics. Spiritual things. Encounters. Tests. Tremors and upsets. Divides. Course setting things i feel- that will when we look back upon our letters be unwritten and the weight of the unwritten, oh my. That's where we betray ourselves. Or simply cannot find words to say. I understand. I've spent two months speaking, but I almost wonder if Jeju will ever come up again. It must? Rocksolid was the change. I tell people: it was a challenge. it was anxiety of the body divorced of the mind. I didn't feel safe. I meditated on the rocky shores almost every day for months and again and again the word - safe. I felt drawn to intimacy with Jesus. I understand, as John the Baptist did that he could die knowing that Jesus was the one who was to come- he didn't have to look for another. I wept at the thought. The time was about abandonment of self into God's hands. Walking the way of holiness. Coffee. One day being delivered into God's heart. Feeling encompassed. Feeling able to love fully the place He had put me. And then the journey and travel of it all- the rest. And then i came back. And everyday seemed much the same as a long time ago but different anxieties, looking peripherally at the job. Bothered but not that i don't own a pair of jeans. That i need a queen mattress. That there's nothing in my room but a bed and a tv. I don't have a cellphone, or a dayplanner. I don't even know if i can hold onto the things that have passed. past. And my nails are splitting. I'm drying out all over. I'm weirded out over the prospect of gaining weight. I don't know where the footholds are. Or where in the house I should be.
And between those things, I'll just mention for myself that I had an encounter with a lightening rod of God. (at the conference aut invited me to) I said to her, oh my, you're a lightening rod. She said, keep receiving unless you're driving. It built up till the next day and poured over for hours. I saw the heavens. There was an angel behind danica. I was in tears. After, taken up, tired and calm. The next day burning with God's love for you, for anyone I saw. And then there was the tea, and J speaking in tongues. And the church conflict- losing the building, the letters, the conversations and dipping back in. And now a womens retreat. And the dreams, the bridal magazine, the prophetic elementary school friend, and the same-sex debate trying to ruin my wedding (that dream). My husband to be, having issues with his top-hat. Not, defined. Oh and my birthday.
Lately I've found God wants me to continue to be relational. people over lists. worship over responsibility. I think He is patently rejecting my concept of projects, and bulldozing. I still don't even know if I'm at my full capacity. It doesn't seem like it as the only thing i got done was cleaning out a linen closet and doing laundry. With plenty of breaks. I've also found there's even less on Tv then there was when I left. I find myself most comfortable in front of the computer. When it's not crashing. I still dont have the cord for the laptop and indeed the lens and my camera are no longer speaking.
It all feels not myself and jumbled.
And my jaw is constantly clenched. Yoga helped a little bit this morning. But still i barely relaxed and even though i tried to close my eyes after battling sentient military ships via xbox... i just couldn't. I kept playing. Oh and meanwhile the house- kitchen cabinets mostly gone through, j's couch where the old one used to be and a middleages inspired bench where the stereocabinet was. My grandfathers navy chest where the sidetable used to be. So it comes, it goes- it's evolving. Soon what once was will be gone and what comes will be what is.
Ok, i'm off to pick popcorn out of my teeth and hydrate. Oh and watch ONCE. THe office is making me so angry. Just nevermind. I did see the end of AR by the way- but i just didn't know or care much about who to root for.
m.
-for later: postcards, the everyday.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
i adore the green
The puppy lives. She laid around like a lump yesterday - what did they do to me? - and today she is back in action with her puppy jazz paws and incessant licking of Bender's overjoyed face. By overjoyed I mean snarling, obviously. But then there's this sheet that says, keep puppy calm and relatively inactive for a week while she heals. Mm-hmm.
J.Lo called the principal again and allegedly K.Lo's assigned bus seat will be changed. Right. So maybe no car riding for the rest of the year and beyond? We'll see. Slacker school and their ineffectual lice takedown.
I have a long to-do list this weekend and my brain can't hold any of it. I mean obviously I'll write it down. But my brain is too full to do any accomplishing. This includes our assignment, and two freelance articles, and finishing the babyshower invitations and mailing them, and some other crap I've forgotten already. See? Effing hormones. Debilitating!
And reading. I haven't read from an actual book in, like, two weeks.
And yoga. I feel like some of these circulatory issues would be helped by picking up yoga again. Right?
This morning is t-ball, preceded by the farmer's market, where apparently CSA veggies await us. I love the randomness. Don't pick up for two weeks - except wait, come by the farmer's market, I have stuff for you! Love the farmer.
Except a few hours later - I'm back from the game and the market - the farmer didn't recognize me? Which is fine, he's only met me twice and not in the context of the busy market. But then even after hearing the name, he was like, oh yeah - that's Penelope. And then proceeded to pack a bag with everything Penelope likes, but as though Penelope wasn't there. I was instead the Penelope Produce Ambassador? It was so weird! And I was too confused to correct him? Agggh. WhatEVer. I'm blaming the whole scene on hormones, too. And will attempt not to let it taint my bokchoysoup.
I did take some pictures on my solitary walk from the market to the ball field. Which was chilly. But filled with fantastic things like green, non-ProRunPatricia trees, baby ducklings and hissing geese. Who doesn't love hissing geese...
I'll be needing to hear more about the birthday tea, thanks in advance!
xoxox
J.Lo called the principal again and allegedly K.Lo's assigned bus seat will be changed. Right. So maybe no car riding for the rest of the year and beyond? We'll see. Slacker school and their ineffectual lice takedown.
I have a long to-do list this weekend and my brain can't hold any of it. I mean obviously I'll write it down. But my brain is too full to do any accomplishing. This includes our assignment, and two freelance articles, and finishing the babyshower invitations and mailing them, and some other crap I've forgotten already. See? Effing hormones. Debilitating!
And reading. I haven't read from an actual book in, like, two weeks.
And yoga. I feel like some of these circulatory issues would be helped by picking up yoga again. Right?
This morning is t-ball, preceded by the farmer's market, where apparently CSA veggies await us. I love the randomness. Don't pick up for two weeks - except wait, come by the farmer's market, I have stuff for you! Love the farmer.
Except a few hours later - I'm back from the game and the market - the farmer didn't recognize me? Which is fine, he's only met me twice and not in the context of the busy market. But then even after hearing the name, he was like, oh yeah - that's Penelope. And then proceeded to pack a bag with everything Penelope likes, but as though Penelope wasn't there. I was instead the Penelope Produce Ambassador? It was so weird! And I was too confused to correct him? Agggh. WhatEVer. I'm blaming the whole scene on hormones, too. And will attempt not to let it taint my bokchoysoup.
I did take some pictures on my solitary walk from the market to the ball field. Which was chilly. But filled with fantastic things like green, non-ProRunPatricia trees, baby ducklings and hissing geese. Who doesn't love hissing geese...
I'll be needing to hear more about the birthday tea, thanks in advance!
xoxox
Friday, May 3, 2013
Mornin',
So i've made some of my first home pressed coffee by Peets. How long do you let it steep normally? The taste is all right. I wouldn't say resplendent- but good if I double the recipe. Like 4 scoops instead of 2. Is that excessive? I can't help it. I have allergies. Thee breathing smelling/taste thing? My eyes are red and I'm snarfing and hacking. Which makes me think I need to eat more honey if that does in fact work. I'm eating an apple and've had an egg and 2 ezekial bread toasts which would be better if there were nuts baked into the bread but anyway. And i'm watching the office- I'm not sure if it needed to be 40minutes long especially since Jim's sacrifice continued throughout the episode to make Pam seem like a selfish deluded hosebeast who had hopefully no one on her side- as it seemed as the episode progressed that there really is NO going back. Even for fictional characters. Am I right? And then when Andy was like... blah blah blah follow your dreams and Jim didn't even catch the correlation? Or was he just putting on a brave face? I do love davidwallace. And oscar and angela and the bit with stanley and phyllis at the end. Nice. I think the heavy actor issue of whether andy would be a success or not was a bit irritating- especially since he is already "successful"- it would've been much better to have a discourse about inital fame and then what do you do "after"...
Meanwhile it's suppose to be blazing today which i'm not happy about because my body finally adjusted and i'm no longer freezing so that 95 is actually really hot and wilting- yesterday i attempted to do something and i was like ugh no. I do continue to move my parents a few boxes at a time. Progress is being made I have to believe. Though it doesn't really seem like it. Which messes with my productivity meter. But really bit by bit. Here we go on down the lane. Like my dad came over yesterday and was like blah blah LATER. As if the time was not now. Me being back is NOW. I am the ball in motion. Be the ball. Roll. You can do it. You're almost there.
The other day i rounded the corner to my bathroom and i was suddenly struck by my feeling 'old'/er now staunchly in my late 30's. And my drivers appointment made on the 8th (a bit late) so i can take that new picture- the one that hopefully will show a benchmark on the way down the lane. And who really knows what to do with myself. And there's a bump on my chin that was a blemish once and i think officially scarred? And is now a permanent discolored bump which drives me nuts. It's like if i were to make an analogy about Stanley from pro/run finally making it after a 3rd try out and then being so completely off his game that it was disasterous... and patricia and her trees? are you serious? I'm with Nina- wacky, whimsy but cohesion and sophistication- come on. Worst season of pro-run ever. Though i did love that zak guy. I guess I am in the right place to be the person I am. LA.
What else... oh puppy spaying and my cats all have fleas. Which they do and are now medicated on the necks waiting it out. Oh corruptable nature. with its nits, fleas, bedbugs (ambers apt complex), lice and cockroaches and ants and mites and whatever else... you just have to shake your head at. And thank a tidy 1st world order that eradicates such things.
Allright, let me go beeee productive. Or think about being productive? It's hard to say. Maybe i'll just stare at stuff and watch the day go by. Decisions, decisions.
m.
ps. for bruckner i think i'd actually ... hmm i could google image it and guess the address. that might be fun.
Meanwhile it's suppose to be blazing today which i'm not happy about because my body finally adjusted and i'm no longer freezing so that 95 is actually really hot and wilting- yesterday i attempted to do something and i was like ugh no. I do continue to move my parents a few boxes at a time. Progress is being made I have to believe. Though it doesn't really seem like it. Which messes with my productivity meter. But really bit by bit. Here we go on down the lane. Like my dad came over yesterday and was like blah blah LATER. As if the time was not now. Me being back is NOW. I am the ball in motion. Be the ball. Roll. You can do it. You're almost there.
The other day i rounded the corner to my bathroom and i was suddenly struck by my feeling 'old'/er now staunchly in my late 30's. And my drivers appointment made on the 8th (a bit late) so i can take that new picture- the one that hopefully will show a benchmark on the way down the lane. And who really knows what to do with myself. And there's a bump on my chin that was a blemish once and i think officially scarred? And is now a permanent discolored bump which drives me nuts. It's like if i were to make an analogy about Stanley from pro/run finally making it after a 3rd try out and then being so completely off his game that it was disasterous... and patricia and her trees? are you serious? I'm with Nina- wacky, whimsy but cohesion and sophistication- come on. Worst season of pro-run ever. Though i did love that zak guy. I guess I am in the right place to be the person I am. LA.
What else... oh puppy spaying and my cats all have fleas. Which they do and are now medicated on the necks waiting it out. Oh corruptable nature. with its nits, fleas, bedbugs (ambers apt complex), lice and cockroaches and ants and mites and whatever else... you just have to shake your head at. And thank a tidy 1st world order that eradicates such things.
Allright, let me go beeee productive. Or think about being productive? It's hard to say. Maybe i'll just stare at stuff and watch the day go by. Decisions, decisions.
m.
ps. for bruckner i think i'd actually ... hmm i could google image it and guess the address. that might be fun.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
good morning,
It's cold. My hand(s)/arm(s) are still intermittently asleep. And sometimes my right foot toes? And this morning it occurred to me that I've been wearing the night arm brace thingy upside down for five days. Egad, penelope - brilliant! Not the only ridiculous mistake I"ve made this week however. Am fighting the urge to close the porch door and turn on the heat already. Not that I'm really complaining, because this is spring! I'm glad we haven't jumped with both feet straight into summer. I need time, transition.
Five or six library books are inexplicably overdue - why am I not getting timely notices of impending doom? Although it wasn't just me, with the blog-service shutdown. Their Facebook page is in an uproar, bloggers lamenting and railing over the thoughtless approach to disbandment. Like when Picnic shut down? They sent warning emails for six months. I wanted to pull my hair out by the end of - I KNOW. I GET IT. YOU'RE SHUTTING DOWN. But at least they gave ample warning. As they should!
Anyway, the blog about the children has been transferred. To the second choice platform, WP, but whatever. I've wasted enough time with tech hoops and other obstacles, and am sticking to it.
Right now I'm watching the ProRun season finale. Stanley sewing models into outfits like a madman. Whaaaat happened, Stanley. And why is Michelle's runway music on barbiturates. Although I love her collection. Aw, Patricia - dedicating the collection to trees. I like it. Maybe they're truffula trees, but that's all right?
But I'm ready for the next season already.
Puppy's spay-surgery is tomorrow. I'm hoping for a quiet weekend. Is it too much to ask? Three super-busy weekends in a row and I'm ready to crash. Not that said weekends weren't filled with goodness. Much goodness with friends, family and friends again. And finally seeing Duke Gardens, which is lovely! Clearly even more charming this time of year with unobnoxious temperatures and full flora. And pondering, if you could go there all the time, what would be "your spot." In the endless nooks and crannies. By the water? Next to stones? On a quiet bench or in the zen-ish garden. Maybe in a surreptitious pocket of woods, like the old man with a book.
Omg, Jewel is going to be in a Lifetime movie...what is happening.
Also, the heavy cloud/ton of bricks has descended. Oh hormones, how I loathe thee. That's all I can say about that right now.
Tell me what's going on in your world, m! And send poor Bruckner a postcard already. Via owl post if you must. They found Harry in the cupboard under the stairs, surely they can find Bruckner on the gravel road past the giant blue cactus across from the honey badger statue, or whatever that insane address was.
lovetoyou!
Five or six library books are inexplicably overdue - why am I not getting timely notices of impending doom? Although it wasn't just me, with the blog-service shutdown. Their Facebook page is in an uproar, bloggers lamenting and railing over the thoughtless approach to disbandment. Like when Picnic shut down? They sent warning emails for six months. I wanted to pull my hair out by the end of - I KNOW. I GET IT. YOU'RE SHUTTING DOWN. But at least they gave ample warning. As they should!
Anyway, the blog about the children has been transferred. To the second choice platform, WP, but whatever. I've wasted enough time with tech hoops and other obstacles, and am sticking to it.
Right now I'm watching the ProRun season finale. Stanley sewing models into outfits like a madman. Whaaaat happened, Stanley. And why is Michelle's runway music on barbiturates. Although I love her collection. Aw, Patricia - dedicating the collection to trees. I like it. Maybe they're truffula trees, but that's all right?
But I'm ready for the next season already.
Puppy's spay-surgery is tomorrow. I'm hoping for a quiet weekend. Is it too much to ask? Three super-busy weekends in a row and I'm ready to crash. Not that said weekends weren't filled with goodness. Much goodness with friends, family and friends again. And finally seeing Duke Gardens, which is lovely! Clearly even more charming this time of year with unobnoxious temperatures and full flora. And pondering, if you could go there all the time, what would be "your spot." In the endless nooks and crannies. By the water? Next to stones? On a quiet bench or in the zen-ish garden. Maybe in a surreptitious pocket of woods, like the old man with a book.
Omg, Jewel is going to be in a Lifetime movie...what is happening.
Also, the heavy cloud/ton of bricks has descended. Oh hormones, how I loathe thee. That's all I can say about that right now.
Tell me what's going on in your world, m! And send poor Bruckner a postcard already. Via owl post if you must. They found Harry in the cupboard under the stairs, surely they can find Bruckner on the gravel road past the giant blue cactus across from the honey badger statue, or whatever that insane address was.
lovetoyou!
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