Pig and farm report
yesterday my beach was an unbelievable blue with whitecaps and mountains but the wind was at 50 mph all day though I only lost power once the wind gives me serious Mr Coffee Jitters the wind gets through my skin and whooshes around in my guts the wind are the trees screaming at one another it was also unseasonably warm I was going to bake bread but I was worried that the power would go out again and I'd lose my dough the wind stops me the way snow storms in Seattle used to stop me so I made the corporate decision to drive to the Dari Delite in Mount Vernon where I bought a strawberry milkshake with a plastic straw and a gigantor bag of French fries and a vat of tartar sauce the thing with the plastic straw and all the fuss about plastic straws is that the people who are noisiest about plastic straws are also the people who fly all over the place in airplanes talking about plastic straws which makes me want to talk about the dinosaur sized carbon footprint that airplanes the worst polluters you can imagine make but really I want to talk about my former company where I built those airplanes but not really and I only have one or two milkshakes a year and maybe one iced latte in summer I am not so much an abuser of plastic straws or of airplanes for that matter though I am guilty of having let fly so many of them for so many years
I woke up and read for a while this morning for a long time I forgot how to lose myself in books really lose myself the last book I got lost in was Lauren Groff's Florida which I read last summer on my deck in my mango swimsuit drinking up the sun like there was still an ozone layer and I was 12 years old with unblemished skin not 65 with skin so tender that Tide laundry detergent makes me break out in an all over body rash but now I am bookish again
the wind is down this morning I had coffee I read my book I read a beautiful haunting piece in the Paris Review by Sabrina Orah Mark titled Ghost People: On Raising Boys and Pinocchio which holds among many startling and heart breaking insights the line "She smiles wide. One of her front teeth looks more alive than it should be." as soon as I read that I knew I was in for good she wrote about her son the shooting at the Tree of Life Synagog Pinocchio as golem boys and their imaginations and motherhood if you have a minute and care about children it is fantastic
I don't know what today holds I barely know the date these days the calendar I bought for myself is still in my closet and potatoes are sprouting in my garden below the tulips because it has been so warm I did manage to disappear almost all of Christmas the tree is undecorated and thrown into the forest where I will attack it with my little chainsaw once my knee lets me walk downhill the lights are put away and stacked neatly in my closet the Santas are gone all that's left is the Christmas tablecloth and I will get to that today because I have to mop my kitchen floor which is a sentence that probably only makes sense to me
Monday I have to take the kittens to the vet because Wolfie's head keeps clicking and it might be her microchip it is much too loud to be a tooth or it might be dried earwax though the click sounds mechanical to me as though she is an AI cat whose servomotor has come loose and Hal is going too because his ears smell rank though Jupiter does her best to keep them clean hopefully it will be easypeasy a drop of whatever to melt the gunk hopefully Wolfie will click for the vet so the vet doesn't recognize my crazy and hopefully it won't cost more than $40.00 that is my aim
I wish I had a plan for today other than drinking coffee reading attempting to bake bread working on my story watching the trees for the wind that is supposed to arrive yet again this afternoon and staying in my nightgown because who the fuck cares
good morning Darklings! it is one day or other of the week in January 2019 still a brand spanking new year and
Love
2 Comments:
The good blues. The beautiful blues. The sea and sky blues of the planet. They are an antidote to the other kind of blues. The Lead Belly blues, the Howling Wolf blues, the Bessie Smith blues. Which in themselves are antidotes to the blackness of the soul sometimes.
I still haven't read that Lauren Groff book and I MUST!
I am reading Tara Westover's "Educated" and it is hard and it is a testimony to the human spirit and the human brain.
As are you, darling Rebecca.
As are you.
I suppose I need a calendar for 2019, don't I?
Big, juicy love your way.
Hello Mary and welcome home back to the fucking crazy us of a. I missed you. Love
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