It's me, walking briskly around the neighborhood in my bright white size 9 Converse low-top Chucks with a leash in my hand. Dressed in what I've decided is my budget-Eileen Fisher-knockoff outfit (linenish black pants I bought at Old Navy and washed and dried so they became slightly less clownish and the perfect length rather than dragging on the ground. Only minimally linty and dog-haired at the moment. Pockets stuffed with poop bags™. Oh, note to self: HANG TO DRY FROM HERE ON OUT. Also a lovely sleeveless cotton/linen orange top that Mark bought me).
As Gus and I passed our next-door neighbor's house, we spotted the whistle pig who divides his time between our yard and hers penned in a Hav A Heart trap, looking for all the world like a cartoon groundhog, pushing up with his little arms against its metal lid. There was a huge slab of granite on top of the trap. Poor little guy! Just the other day I saw him hustling busily across my back yard. I could imagine him wearing a little outfit of some kind. (Maybe I should refer to him/her as them. But I have mentally gendered him already, so.)
Friday, May 25, 2018
Tuesday, May 01, 2018
Thursday, April 19, 2018
My Heart Leaps Up
Taking all kinds of inspiration from Patricia Lockwood's essay How Do We Write Now? There's so much that's good here.
"That your attention is in one sense the most precious part of you, it is your soul spending yourself, to teach you that there’s always more.
That your attention is a resource that can be drafted, commandeered, militarized and made to march — like youth, passion, or patriotism...
That if you sometimes try to comfort yourself by thinking, Cows don’t know about him, you’re not alone."
Plus, the reminder that looking at a screen, and through that screen at the Interwebs and social media is maybe not the best way to start the day. I like this too:
"The single best way to give the morning back to myself is to open a real book as I drink my first cup of coffee. I’m not sure why real books are best. I think the pages remind me that I have fingerprints. I think I like to see what I have read lying sweetly by the side of what I’m about to read, like a wife."
"That your attention is in one sense the most precious part of you, it is your soul spending yourself, to teach you that there’s always more.
That your attention is a resource that can be drafted, commandeered, militarized and made to march — like youth, passion, or patriotism...
That if you sometimes try to comfort yourself by thinking, Cows don’t know about him, you’re not alone."
Plus, the reminder that looking at a screen, and through that screen at the Interwebs and social media is maybe not the best way to start the day. I like this too:
"The single best way to give the morning back to myself is to open a real book as I drink my first cup of coffee. I’m not sure why real books are best. I think the pages remind me that I have fingerprints. I think I like to see what I have read lying sweetly by the side of what I’m about to read, like a wife."
In a hotel in Maryland with one little dog, drifting off to sleep at 8:40 PM. I'm going to try listening to Max Richter's Sleep all night long, just for fun.
Monday, April 02, 2018
Past // Future
When I carry a cup of tea up the stairs, I think of the time I fell carrying a cup of tea up the stairs and ended up with a spectacular third-degree burn on my arm, and the way various medical professionals asked me what I interpreted to be variations on the question, "Are you safe at home?" including the question, "What kind of tea was it?"
And every time I go down the basement stairs (often holding a laundry basket), I feel I am being given a glimpse into the future to foresee a time I fall down the basement stairs swearing and crying out and end in a crumpled heap at the bottom.
And every time I go down the basement stairs (often holding a laundry basket), I feel I am being given a glimpse into the future to foresee a time I fall down the basement stairs swearing and crying out and end in a crumpled heap at the bottom.
Sunday, April 01, 2018
Rabbit rabbit!
 |
| This rabbit is sitting on a knife for no particular reason except perhaps that APRIL IS THE CRUELEST MONTH. |
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
Look around
(Jeannette took me to see Hamilton!!)
I keep thinking back on Hamilton, and remembering how even when I was watching it, how sharply aware I was of it as a fleeting moment.
Also, while watching, I kept imagining Isaac watching it and wondering what he would think of those silly musical theater tropes (someone swoops in with a chair, sits on it, pretends to talk to another actor, dances off, the other actor twirls away with the chair...) I mean, I love them, but what would he think?
Come to think of it, 21 year old Isaac might scoff a bit, but nine or ten year old Isaac (I can't believe I'm not remembering specifically how old he was) was a superstar on the stage in Oliver! Singing, dancing, the whole nine yards. He really was great, in a role as one of the pickpockets with one line that got laughs, as I (his proud mother) recall. That was an era of Cockney accents and little tweed vests and hats and urchin shoes around here. Not just Isaac, but Zoë and a few of their best friends too.
The guy who played Fagin HATED the kids who played the pickpockets. They cast so many of them, so there were hordes of rascally children running around the theater all the time, and more than once Fagin had strong words, mainly directed to their MOTHERS specifically.
So, actually, that kid has some experience with twirling around with props and posing stage left, etc.
Also, Hamilton was just amazing. It totally lived up to my expectations. I feel like I had one item on my life list (I will not call it a Bucket List because it's against my religion to use that phrase), and now it's neatly crossed out. Not to say I wouldn't love to see it again.
I keep thinking back on Hamilton, and remembering how even when I was watching it, how sharply aware I was of it as a fleeting moment.
Also, while watching, I kept imagining Isaac watching it and wondering what he would think of those silly musical theater tropes (someone swoops in with a chair, sits on it, pretends to talk to another actor, dances off, the other actor twirls away with the chair...) I mean, I love them, but what would he think?
Come to think of it, 21 year old Isaac might scoff a bit, but nine or ten year old Isaac (I can't believe I'm not remembering specifically how old he was) was a superstar on the stage in Oliver! Singing, dancing, the whole nine yards. He really was great, in a role as one of the pickpockets with one line that got laughs, as I (his proud mother) recall. That was an era of Cockney accents and little tweed vests and hats and urchin shoes around here. Not just Isaac, but Zoë and a few of their best friends too.
 |
| They were urchins for Halloween that year. |
 |
| A bunch of pickpockets. |
 |
| Don't tell Isaac (right) I said that he is still this adorable. |
The guy who played Fagin HATED the kids who played the pickpockets. They cast so many of them, so there were hordes of rascally children running around the theater all the time, and more than once Fagin had strong words, mainly directed to their MOTHERS specifically.
So, actually, that kid has some experience with twirling around with props and posing stage left, etc.
Also, Hamilton was just amazing. It totally lived up to my expectations. I feel like I had one item on my life list (I will not call it a Bucket List because it's against my religion to use that phrase), and now it's neatly crossed out. Not to say I wouldn't love to see it again.
Thursday, March 01, 2018
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)