Sunday, July 26, 2009
"...its shell as rusty
as a camp dish,
as fragile as a pagoda
on a stone..."
From "Letter Written on a Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound" by Anne Sexton
Back from the biz trip, and foo -- caught a summer cold. Lost my voice during Day Two of the trade show (or rather, gained a weirdly squeaky croak.) Still feeling punk, although drinking ginger tea and petting the cats helps.
I'm glad you stopped by, but don't get too close -- I might sneeze, and I'd hate for you to catch what I have.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
"...The map in the shopping center has an X
signed 'you are here.' A dream is like that. ..."
From "A Happy Childhood" by William Matthews
It hasn't rained, but I did have a splendid Saturday involving a long-time friend, some ancho-blackberry jam, and BBQ at this place.
Too much for my friend and I to talk about, to stand under the white-hot sky and look for things my camera would like to snack on. (Sometimes things are for the looking and not the catching.)
Another business trip this week and more family health matters to wrangle, but there's jam in the fridge reminding me of happy things.