Rabbit rabbit

 

Rabbit rabbit

 

Orange you glad I remembered?

In a dream I possessed it

What a year, huh? What a month, what a time to be alive. 

In dog news, Clover is not immune to the generalized national anxiety disorder and was so disconcerted by 1) the sound of melting snow sliding off the roof and 2) the fact that Mark and I were away from home at the same time and probably 3) news* on the radio, left on to "keep her company," that she nibbled through the handles of the tote bag that hangs on the basement doorknob and holds dishtowels and cloth napkins destined for the laundry. It was the first illicit chewing she's done since she was a wee pup and shredded an entire New Yorker, cover-to-cover, into confetti. At first we panicked, misconstruing how the handles had connected to the tote bag and estimating there were about six missing inches of handle. Luckily, we didn't see "intestinal obstruction" etc etc online and immediately whisk her off to the emergency vet, but instead looked again at the tote bag, correctly lined the handles up and realized she'd only detatched them from the bag, without actually ingesting any fabric. 

She's sometimes a nervous wreck, but zooms, gleeful, through the backyard paths dug in the snow (more coming this week, but there's ~ 9 inches out there now). A person can walk the paths like a labyrinth too, if a person doesn't worry about the neighbors thinking they're crazy!

In bird news, I've noticed several robin gangs recently, hundreds of them in enormous rounds** swooping from tree to tree, down to the ground, back up together to gobble withered, frozen February berries, ravenous and noisy. 

In dream news, I dreamt I was talking with Oona about her dream of taking a cross-country road trip. "It's actually," I told her gently, "a pretty great reason to get a driver's license." She agreed. David added, "Plus, cars are great!" And then, I told a dream joke: I said, "Although your mileage may vary."

Fun fact: William Burroughs' parents paid him an allowance until he was 50.

Blast from the past.

RIP David Lynch.

5 Early Signs.

*BBC News because it sounds less real when it's in a British accent.

**A round of robins, or a breast of robins, or a blush of robins, take your pick.

Rabbit rabbit

 

From my junk drawer to yours

They are talking about you

In happier Trader Joe's news, here's an entry that once upon a time I'd have posted on Overheard in Portland (RIP?)*

Scene: I am next in line at a register. The woman in front of me has just departed.

Cashier: "She always comes through our line. Always."

Bagger: "And every time, It's awkward as heck."

Cashier: "At least she brought a bag this time."

(Obviously I worried that they would also find me awkward as heck and proceed to discuss me after I left. But the bagger and I bonded over the best product sold by Trader Joe's, and I'm 90 percent sure I was not terribly awkward. Also, I brought a bag.)

*Nobody reads blogs anymore, and I also can't hear very well anymore, so. Maybe 2025 will be the Year of Hearing Aids and Blogging!

Your spine is a flower

Egad, that last post hath no title.

And today is Monday, so I'm in organized work mode. But I want to share a snapshot of morning work before I dive into blurbing these babies:

Okay, they're totally just making words up at this point to keep me employed?

And briefly, a highlight of my weekend was mishearing "Lancaster, PA" as "Cirque de Soleil," which made Mark and me laugh (I laughed harder). Another highlight was ice skating down a frozen river and around a large pond and not falling down. And a lowlight was seeing a full grown adult man in the Trader Joe's parking lot wearing a sweatshirt with a cartoon dinosaur that said in all caps DON'T BE A CUNTOSAURUS.

So, 2024, despite being numerologically pleasing (to me, based on my own private superstitious preferences, which involve even numbers in general and the number four in particular), sucked.

As in any terrible year, there was plenty that was wonderful, including moments woven into (and even intrinsically part of) the horrible parts — the terrible/beautiful of it all. (But not the politically horrible stuff, that was 100 percent rotten). I thought I'd make a list of some highlights from the year:

• Further development of my positive relationships with crows in my neighborhood (ask me about my peanut budget).
• 2024, Year of the Rabbit(s), aka Year of the Backyard Bun.
• The Northern Lights at last!
• I read 97 books — in 2023 I only read 37 — and watched 38 movies.
• Countless beautiful loaves of sourdough bread were created in my kitchen.
• I got marginally braver about flying? (at least very short flights!) I flew to North Carolina eight times in 2024, which means I got myself on an airplane SIXTEEN times.
• Puffins, little cartoon birds as seen through binoculars from a boat bobbing wildly in the churning ocean, with Stella and Ben and Mark: none of us seasick.
• I dug so many holes in the ground and planted so many plants in the holes, and saw tiny seedlings turn into green, leafy, gloriously flowering plants.

Some of my plans for 2025:

• I intend to wash my windows this year. They are so grubby.
• Plant more plants!
• Bake more bread.
• Keep getting on airplanes.
• Visit Canada.
• Replace more Instagram time with book-reading time.
• Cook biryani and yakisoba and okonomiyaki and tiramisu and pupusas.

Also keep taking deep breaths.