Tuesday, November 30, 2004

i am not a twin...

people always ask if we're twins. we are not. we only just met. just now (again) while crossing the railroad tracks.

Monday, November 29, 2004

mc offal...

s.b. has returned from a new mexican thanksgiving. it's good to have him back.

upon seeing an add for the mc rib sandwich:

sister: why is there a sheep floating around that guy's head? are we to believe that mc rib is made from sheep?
s.b.: sheep colon.
sister: mc sheep colon.

bless their little hearts. i missed that lil' feller and the charming influence he has upon my youngest sibling. i did not, however, miss his arsenal of unsavory odors.

what the hell. i missed those, too. i'm a softie.

Friday, November 26, 2004

consistency is the foundation for...

it was nice to wake up this morning and not have to worry about baking enough bread to feed a small army. the hounds, however, still haven't recovered from the celebrating. they're still under the impression that every time the refrigerator door opens they will increase by it. happy well fed people give turkey freely.

Thursday, November 25, 2004

all love...

we drove to my father's cabin this evening, bearing plates of victuals. the moon is incredibly bright now. a smudge on the windscreen cast a shadow on the skirt of my coat. the coat is camel hair, tan, but it looked the color of slate. everything blue and grey. we turned onto the long dirt drive. i hopped out to open the gate. the gate was broken. it was haphazardly mended with assorted tape. the padlock was gone. i didn't have the remote electronic gadget with me so i couldn't open it that way either. gadgets-- i'm at odds with those today. the sister remembered the default button. success! and then a climb through native grey pine and live oak. dust plumes in the cold air. the last bit of drive is composed mostly of ruts. my father is in his recliner. a book spread in his lap. we sit by his woodstove and talk about putin and the magnificence of certain corvids. ravens steal golf balls for no good purpose. later, he produces the wool throw from 1936. it was a gift to my grandmother. i never knew her because she died before i came along. she only had one child so all i know about her is what he can tell me. he gives me the blanket to mend. it's been stowed somewhere for a good portion of its life. it's the sort of handiwork that old women enjoy. i like it though. an exercise in patience.

you have to learn how to die/ if you wanna wanna be alive --wilco

it's a good lesson, really. how many times we die. then, how many times it is a lesson. i'm sure i've died a lot. but i'm rather thick-headed, love. slow on the uptake.

abracadabra. and the body rises. reanimation. trumpets. vaults spring open. odorless. whatever before is happily extinguished. a joy and a comfort. a spider shed on the doorstones. every tear dried and bright best sunshine.

GAH!

GAH! GAH!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

grr.

woe to the machine that makes me so angry. woe, gadgets. woe!

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

gigantic!

oh. we've designed nifty canvas grocery bags. today i make a mock-up. soon we produce the real deal. they promise to be quite bitchin'. modesty.


pixies provide the GIGANTIC! listening...

a big, big love! a big, big love!

Monday, November 22, 2004

kale...

yum. i like kale.

listening to neutral milk hotel. two-headed boy.

my friend is a clown. he went to clown college. he went to university, too. but i think his greater achievment is the former. we used to listen to this song together. drive to the beach and eat watermelon, drink tea, play with our siblings and our friends in the cold. a huge driftwood sanctuary on a northern shore.

somehow the combination of kale and n.m.h. has jogged my memory.

catching signals that sound in the dark...

chute...

i was in the pear tree. the tree in a lightning field. a barn to one side. i don't remember why i climbed the tree. i don't remember why i fell. but the white dress was my chute. i fell safely to the ground. he was standing there watching. laughter. my little dog tucked under one arm. everything is fine. even the lightning. even the threat of being struck.

that's when the evil cyborgs began erasing the good cyborgs. or were they borgs? or were they humans trapped in machines? the evil borgs were f*cked up. i was watching. i was terrified. i could do nothing. if i could answer the questions maybe i could begin. but there were no answers then.

i was tangled in the bedclothes. so much for a white dress. what is a chute in a nightmare? what good is a chute there?

Sunday, November 21, 2004

air...

playground love.

...and you're my favorite flavor...

...you're the piece of gold...

...that flashes on my soul...

badly drawn boy...

magic in the air.

nothing ever seemed so bright...



she uses tangerines...

i suppose i am fortunate to live in a place where the winters are relatively warm. but it's hard to keep that in mind when i'm feeling cold. there's a rather large temperature difference between the inland places and the coastal ones, however. right now it's the beginning of tangerine season. if i drive about eight or ten miles west i'll inevitably run into citrus groves. frosts are rare there. they experience the stereotypical californian winter. but frost (wicked bad frost) is just a step or two away on my side of the mountains. and snow sometimes, too. i haven't got an exterior thermometer but the current outdoor temperature can be summed up thus: cold as a witch's tit. and the indoor temperature isn't much more inviting. i've just finished eating a perfect little tangerine and i feel a little strange. somehow incongruous to be eating something so tender and feeling so cold. odd to know there are tangerine trees eight or ten miles away spangled with fruit.

it's nothing to compare with iowa or maine, montana or new york, i know. but i'm really not complaining. i love winter. cold weather is fine by me. it's finer with fire, though. finer with more efficient heating. if you have an empty, warm attic, i'd be glad to overwinter there.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

plural...

overheard a conversation between s.b. and friend. discussing the plural of the word focus. they said it was foci, but second guessed. is it foci? is that right? so, they began with the known:

octopus, octopi.

fungus, fungi.

jesus, jesi.

jesi. none of us saw that one coming. a brigade of jesi. a flock. a kindness. a murder. a bevy. a brace. a bloat. a parliament. a herd. a kit. what is the correct term? a swarm of jesi? a gaggle? a flight?


Thursday, November 18, 2004

yar...

trekked down the firebreak road with the sister today. she twigged up my hair something fierce. an effort in beautification. i'm not sure it was a success. but it was diverting.

toadstools are toadstooling all over the place. i enjoy them. toyon covered in berries. mistletoe. snowberry. fat acorns and red-tailed hawk.

at home i search the web over for a moomin t-shirt. i don't think they exist. yet.

killdeer were all over the railroad tracks today. killdeer sound sad. they don't look sad, though.

i'm useless to you this evening. i can't think of anything to write. maybe i should not think. mmm. nah. i'm just not going to write.

good evening.

dreamt...

i was sitting in the dry grass near the railroad tracks. he said, "my friend, you know the one?" and my mind went blank. i began guessing names. it irritated him. and then he laughed. i looked by the hand that i leant on and there was a critter in the grass. half bird and half clematis seed. it was still very young. some strange nestling. i pointed it out. he got up and walked across the tracks to fetch something. i thought to myself that he was an odd guy. i liked him anyway. he had a way of dressing. the bird-seed hopped into my hand and nuzzled. was so soft. the head-half like a sparrow and the tail-half long and fuzzy, curled and fawn-colored clematis seed. he said to me before leaving, "give it a month and you'll be ready." not the bird-seed, the odd man said.

i think i read too many/pored over too many books last night before sleeping. i've never seen the odd man. i don't know anyone like him. i've never seen a bird-seed. dreaming is fantastic.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

books!

purchased from the friends of the library booksale today:

birds every child should know (ca. 1930)

a handwritten inscription says: to the quinn boys, christmas 1930 from mrs. barrett. my favorite bit so far is this: when all the states make and enforce similar laws, there will be an end to the barbaric slaughter of many birds for no more worthy end than the trimming of hats for thoughtless girls and women. damn their fancy hats!

illustrated manual of california shrubs by h.e. mc minn.

i have poured over the pages of this one already. it's wonderful! a 1939 printing. it's soooo cool. i'm going to give it to the da, though, because he does love native shrubs. and books.

flight to arras by antoine de saint-exupery.

truly, the find of the day. a first printing. the pen and ink drawings rock! and i paid less than a buck for it. whoot!





Monday, November 15, 2004

planet...

hardly newsworthy, but i stepped in ca-ca. dog soil. i'm not sure where i did it, but the experience lingers even though i applied the soap and brush. ah, life in the countryside.

listening to the pogues.

twice tonight, a speeding car almost ran over the dogs, the sister and me as we had our nightly constitutional. i disapprove of collision. at least, where cars and people are concerned. when people collide sometimes 'tis messier. or sometimes lovelier. maybe i should learn where to put my er. it's no comparison. cars and people make for an ugly carom.

hmm. why do dogs run toward the danger? willie snaps at bicycle spokes. lola strains in intersections. tries to make contact. i don't know.

tomorrow i search for something gifty for the smaller sibling who is passionate about soap and chocolate chews. this is the predictable portion of annual gift day-- soap and chocolate. but this year i'm going to surprise. sssshhh.

to bed with me. morning and rooster flapping betimes.

"nothing can stop a planet, but a planet can stop anything at all!" --bjork


Friday, November 12, 2004

what a ham...

i made dinner tonight. that's not unusual. i generally am saddled with the cooking hereabouts. most meals are vegetarian because s.b. is vegetarian. sometimes i crave meat, though. tonight was one of those nights. as i sat eating my dinner (which contained a paltry amount of ham), the sister called attention to the fact that i was eating something animal (and of cloven hoof! yikes!).

s.b.: murderer.
me: mmmmm.
sister: don't worry-- after they killed it, they cured it.

i almost shot ham across the room. why, oh why, am i so prone to laugh at bad jokes? it's ridiculous. incidentally, i don't eat meat often because of the guilt associated. farm animals go a shitty way, but you'd never guess it through the cling film. very clean, that.

new wool...

i only meant to pinch a leaf from the succulent donkey tail. i accidentally pulled up an entire little plant and had to swiftly secret it in my bag. oops. tomorrow it will have a pot of its own.

i'm still on a carla bruni kick. i really should listen to something else for a spell.

found a cone of blue (sock) wool at the thrift store for a buck. this pleased me. blue socks all around!

overheard:

young girl1:...that's when we met.
young girl2: was that after or before i stole that car?
young girl1: before.

hmm. well, they were criminals of a very mild quality, sipping their pop at the soda counter behind me and the sister. maybe it was a pedal car they stole. dunno.




Thursday, November 11, 2004

it came in the mail...

gnomes in waistcoats carry posies. the gnome breeches sag like wasted diapers down to the tiny gnome galoshes. the two are not unrelated, methinks.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

persimmon...

i put it in my coat pocket in the dark. it's the cushion-shaped one. is that japanese or american? i can't remember. but it is very pretty on the kitchen table just now. orange.


now playing...

carla bruni. thank heavens i didn't just delete that kcrw newsletter this evening. i would have missed out. she's a model. and she can sing. if that don't beat all.

still...nothing compares with francoiz breut.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

making prints...

woke up this morning with my neck in a painfully convoluted posture. what was i dreaming of that provoked me to twist me neck up so? dunno. but all day i have had the most terrible neckache and headache. i don't get headaches very often. when i do get them, they put me in quite a funk.

visited with the pa today. he had the grand idea of making christmas cards. wah-huh? yes. christmas cards. i'm not sure what has put him in such a temper. anyway, we went looking for linoleum block to print with. found the block but the artery (yes, that's really the name of the art supplies store) was out of printing ink. well, they were out of black ink. yellow is wonderful, but i'm not so keen on a yellow yuletide. if i had the mind to, i could make a very handsome set of jaundiced baby jesus cards. i'm not of that mind.

it. is. cold. today i curse forced air heating. unless i stand directly below the vent, i don't feel very warm at all. grr.

still knitting socks.

it is quite possible to miss invisible people. i had my doubts about that ability. not not hit. not that miss. long. that miss.


imaginary numbers...

for days and days nothing but numbers. apparently, not even enough of them. days or numbers. that's a bit frustrating.

the number of stitches i knit after i got home. real. i could feel those. palpated. the wool is exceedingly fine and soft. the weight is small. the tricks-- in and out and in and out-- observable. i did this. i got that. hmm.

cheese should not be powdered, i've decided. hunger is a good sauce. but still. the only powder i want to associate with cheese is that lovely powdery white mold skin. the edible sort. powder mold is tastier than powder cheese.

it's late. between times. this hour is the realm of such discourse. odds and ends. odd endings.

Saturday, November 06, 2004

socks...

i'm knitting socks. it's a new experience. it's also becoming an addiction. there are worse things....

most of my family voted for bush. i continue to think my family is comprised of good and loveable people. i also continue to think that bush is a husk of a human being. i don't dislike republicans, but i dislike most republican policy. then again, the democratic party doesn't necessarily thrill me either. bah.

i'm going to stay away from the above subject for a while. there will be flare ups. i can't help it. but for now...

how's about i spin a tale? okeeee. here:

last night on the news there was a report of a human foot found on the beach near gaviota. the man (coroner?) being interviewed was a little too glib for my perfect peace of mind. a little too comedically inclined. not another one. you owe me a fiver, gary. oh, so he didn't say anything like that. but he was chuckling while talking about the foot on the slab next to him. i bet the guy who lost that was not amused.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

humbug...

i'm quieted down a bit now. still angry, though. and confused. very confused. i don't understand how so many people can raise w. up as an example of fine moral leadership. he is shipping our youth off to die. he is murdering innocent people. and he's doing it all for his own selfish, manipulative reasons. and he claims that he has the christian god on his side. this is terribly frightening. why do people still believe he has the moral high ground? maybe i've answered my own question. god is on his side. they've got a mutual friend. secret handshakes. i'm not christian, but that is just not right. i'm very offended. jesus, according to christianity, is the complete opposite of w. jesus is the embodiment of peace. pacifism. he's about loving thy neighbor. turning the other cheek. he who is without sin casts the first stone. etc. etc. last i checked he wasn't about killing folks, deceit, hatefulness, fear. maybe the bible i read as a child was prettied up by a mindful translator. who knows. maybe bush's bible has been creatively edited. i'm just really disgusted right now.

expatriation. i keep reading this word on blogs from around the globe. it makes me feel good that people in other places can see that re-election was not the will of the entire nation. there was resistance. it's nice to see these other gentle people inviting us to leave this place if we just can't stomach what it is becoming. i wouldn't mind leaving either. but i love my home. i love my state. i love my little town. i don't think it's right that i should have to leave my home because some boob is seeking to destroy it. i'd rather (for the time being, anyway) wait it out. try to love my neighbor. try not to seethe. try to do something to turn things back the other direction. try not to let the bitterness i'm feeling right now overtake me.

so maybe i'm not quieted down right now. but the yapping is, perhaps, coming from a nicer place.

i'm not going to check my spelling or proofread. i've had a glass of alcohol. i probably didn't talk sense above anyhow.

all apologies...

i'm so sorry, world.

i'm going to burrow into the earth now. see you in four years.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

i voted...

got the sticker. got the coffee (black) and the complimentary spongebob cookies. i've never seen my little town's polls so bustling before.

if you're an eligible voter and you haven't voted yet, get thee to the polls! they give you cookies! it's great. and you might find a date. it's well known that cute people (of the prefered sex) are very turned on by tight spaces like polling booths. i know i am. go forth and vote!

now to gather 'round the radio with my ovaltine. tenterhooks.

Monday, November 01, 2004

mr. shaw?

a friend came last night bearing dvds. the sister and i were making dinner. the sister's beau (s.b. henceforth) and the honorable j. were sitting at table, pouring over the cinematic goods. horror flicks! shocker. vampires. freddy v. jason. etc. and then, as i scuttled about the kitchen, i saw one that i didn't recognize. "which is that one?" "what one?" j asked. "that one. mister...mister shaw?" much laughter. "mr. show! you dork!" indeed. is it my fault that the case designers chose such an illegible font? and then they laughed some more. "yes, it's all about george bernard! scaaaaarey!" hmph. but i do enjoy mr. show. today i gesture like bob explaining science to the english peasant david. "do i really need these leeches?" "yes, leeches remove the poison put inside us by witches." see, i had always suspected as much.

i dressed as a witch. the sister, a fortune teller. i forgot to cross her palm with silver. darn. anyway, i manned the door and dispensed candy. i frightened a girl of three. she consented to draw near only after i produced a reasonable handful of dum-dums and whoppers. choke-tastic. what is a three year old going to do with a lolly besides asphyxiate? i daresay i should put more thought into my treats next year.

i was going to post ghoulish pictures. but the thought occured to me that my choice of headdress might further the rumor of my serious cranial abnormality. so i'll postpone any picture posting until i'm able to capture a shot of my bared- i assure you, perfectly normal- head.