it's been a while. i forgot my password again and didn't want to bother with resetting it. lazy like that.

i watched a kite hover over the fields the day before yesterday. so lovely it brought tears to my eyes.

not much to say. i'll return when i am feeling a bit more loquacious. who knows when that might be.

adieu.

balloons...

dominic with your wonderful balloon please say hello. i've lost your address and your heating and cooling seems to have disappeared. if you read this write me a little note. i was thinking about the lowellville baby doll dance the other day. 

i finally reset my password so that i could revisit this old blog. and now i haven't got much to chat about. figures.

swung until i was sick. recovering with banana milk. listening to feist.

the darkness out there is filled with freddy fender and backyard fires. mockingbirds. a man standing on the corner with his cell glued to his ear. talking about k-fed. i kid you not.

i go.

so many owls!

here now.

i'm sitting with this little orange and white book on my lap. it's called the first book of maps and globes. i wasn't looking to read a story. i sat to type.

page 47:

the world-wide network

when a person wants to get from one place to another on land, he can generally use roads, landmarks, and signs to help him find his way. but when a ship's captain needs to find his way from one place to another across the ocean, he has no roads, no landmarks, and no signs to follow. instead, he uses imaginary lines, some running north and south, others running east and west...

the meridians aren't parallel to each other.... they divide the globe into imaginary sections like the segments of an orange.

parallels and meridians cover the globe with an imaginary network that is very important to people who use maps, especially at sea.

the book was a discard. written in the 50's. written to appeal to little boys and girls with an interest in cartography. a flourishing audience mid-century i'm sure.

benchmarks. inertial navigation. contour lines. legend. symbol. great-circle route.

not a term halts abruptly at the length of its webster's chain. not for me leastways. not this evening. there are three links to every one. i'm taxed.

i began writing here because i tend to tax others with the sheer volume of my correspondence. letters to berkeley. new york. russia. brooklyn. oakland. letters to my friend 4 miles up the road. letters to invisible people. sometimes letters to imaginary people. love them nonetheless. but it isn't a love shared by all. as a consequence nothing ever comes of it. i neglect to write at anything else.

page 5:

talking with a map

a map is a diagram of the earth's surface, as if we were looking down from high in the air. often we can learn something more easily by looking at a map than by reading hundreds of words in a book or newspaper.

many times, when we want to explain something to another person, we can do it more quickly by making a simple map than by speaking a lot of words or writing many pages of directions.

if i could draw there'd be a significant picture here. i cannot. use your beautiful imagination.

thanks to those that visited. you know where to find me.

--yours

the pink mimosa is in bloom. smells luverly. the leaves close at night and open in the morning.

listening: lonely love-- the gray kid.

tow-headed nephew gave chase with a pelican feather. and the garden hose. after soaking my legs with a fine mist he explained that i wasn't really wet. contrary to the evidence. but he was steadfast in his opinion.

in other news...

what they say concerning waking sleepwalkers is true. don't attempt it. they're an indignant kind.

also a book of silhouettes. how beautiful.

feels like thunder is coming. my barometer supports the feeling. love thunderstorms.

listening: dream-- alice smith.

incidentally looking forward to her album's release in sept. i've played this one track about twenty times this evening. i need some more of her stuff.

while catching the bus a transient asked if we knew where to purchase a hamburger. stress on the second syllable. and no sooner than said he turned heel and walked away. later in regard to the incident sister quoted that bit from pompoko about hamburgers facilitating discussion. clearly this is not the case. but like i always say: never trust a washbear with its naughty parts a-dangling.

i never say that.

another person came here searching for "pure bread" dogs. and the other day someone placed an ad in the paper because they'd misplaced their "dessert tortoise" and very badly wanted it back. i would too. those are extremely rare.

to bed.

someone told me once that p.l. travers wasn't really a fan of children. thought of it today when i discovered mary poppins in the kitchen: a cookery book with a story. within i find no evidence that travers had an aversion to little people. the cookery is just what i'd expected. lots of puddings and sausages. shepherd's pie. rarebit. trifle. cheese on toast. and one that i actually enjoy quite a bit: kedgeree. though without eggs please. dunno. perhaps the puddings and sausages were travers's own particular exercise in hostility.

listening: perdu d'avance-- superflu.

a wonderful stack of library materials awaits. i go. spit-spot.

the tamale vendor came walking by today. there's now a rather bulky parcel of tamale chilling in the box.

tiger lilies blooming. effing love those. so orange. so beautiful. picked one and vased it. behind me in the windowsill.

listening: cherry blossom girl-- air.

the train has that great wurlitzer sound. loud and warbly. i'm so accustomed to its late night passage that it only makes me sleepy to hear it.

g'night.

learned to play hello kitty rummy this evening. i lost every hand. but we played on blankets outside in the shade which was quite nice. we devised ways to make the game more challenging. kitty-chan's original wasn't quite difficult enough.

listening: black cherry-- goldfrapp.

it's only just cooling off. 99 degrees this afternoon. i want to have a nap on the cool floor when the weather's like it was today.

i've some flame tree seeds. kurrajong. maybe i'll start some. they'll never flower here though.

to bed.

every day. every day. mark woods delivers. niedecker and satie are some of my favorite dead people.

listening to gnossienne #1 performed on guitar by pierre laniau. how cool.

also check out the sketches of egon schiele. (via wood_s_lot)

i would be ever so grateful if you would sign this. you can read about marlene braun here. and view some photos here.

thanks thanks thanks.

the things that arrive in the mail sometimes puzzle me. a small unsolicited magazine about animal husbandry. inside an article about exotic pets. more specifically an article about horses. i wasn't aware that they're considered exotic. also i'm wondering who the target audience is. children? the piece finished with a q & a regarding horses. are horses expensive to keep? yes. can you keep a horse in a backyard? no. do horses require much attention? yes. somehow by the end of the q & a (read aloud by sister) i had visions of a dumpster-diving self-sufficient equine walking upright and carrying a pink bakery take-away box between its front hooves. no don't trouble yourself with my dinner. i'm good. i'll eat this and just crash on the fire escape for a few hours.

dunno.

a stray cat wound itself into chain and wire. was hanging by its hind legs. i discovered it today. still alive but totally weak. this month has seen a number of animal rescues. or rescue attempts. the cat seems quite well tonight though.

the anacampseros is about to bloom. yay! it's supposed to restore love. that is the myth. i wonder what happens to unblemished love?

listening: just like a movie star-- dominique a.

good night.

at nine or so my extended family had japanese exchange students stay with them. summer meant i practically lived there with them. swimming. riding bareback. and one of the boys decided to teach me origami. a little cup first which he and his friend insisted i drink from. they said it was a wine cup. after i drank they laughed and said it was a urine sample cup. they laughed ecstatically. lengthy laughing.

i've just run across instructions for the same cup. i'd forgotten everything but the last fold. the terminal one.

tchin tchin.

listening: such great heights-- iron and wine.

good night.

i got it!

listening: you're my kind of climate-- rip rig + panic. courtesy this fella.

went shopping for funeral attire. when leaving the department store i spied a guy selling cherries. as he poured my buy from their green jails into a paper sack he asked what i was wearing. like so:

him: what are you wearing?
me: wha?
him: mmm. you smell really good. that's you right? no. no it was that lady.
me: oh...uh....
him: no it's you. that's nice. what fragrance is that?
me: i dunno. i think i might have accidentally-- um it's from in there. (gesturing at storefront)
him: (much laughter) god bless you. god bless.

i don't much wear perfume. but i did inadvertently walk through a cloud of dubious man-spray. irresponsibly wielded by sister. who thought it was lady's eau de toilette. and because my hands were looking kind of dry i sampled some awful hand cream. so i'm glad that my chemical stink made some preacher's day. he was a preacher btw. a cherry-vending preacher. with hair like that british jewel tea guy who used to come door-to-door and sell my gran sundries.

anyhow. the cherries are tasty. and they led me to think of neneh cherry. and then rip rig and panic. and now all i want is to hear their song "you're my kind of climate." but i can't find it anywhere. hopefully one of these new fangled mp3 blogs will post it for my listening pleasure.

little shoes came away with me. like a mish-mash of bensimon and cons and ballet flats and kung-fu shoes. i've made them sound ugly. they're not. and the price was small which also pleases.

sandalwood smells nice. spikenard. amber. vetiver. demeter's russian leather (what's with the leather daddy hat? i'd rather envision library chair). quite often i think people smell pretty good without.

well. to bed.

listening: der telefon anruf-- kraftwerk.

my hair is cut. i'd like bangs but i avoid them. i suspect i'll look far too gelfling if i get those.

listening: eisbär-- nouvelle vague.

i found a chunky layered dinosaur near the post office. a chunky layered dinosaur of provo craft spanish fork utah. made in china. it's a thunder lizard to me. i believe i'll have to take some photos of chunky layered's adventures.

crickets.

it's getting late. to bed.

i'm loving this mp3 blog (via i like).

listening: the zookeeper's boy-- mew.

a few weeks ago picked up a mercer mayer book called little monster's word book. i had several mayer books when small but not this one. and i think it's my new favorite. pages 34-35 contain things to do or be when you get bigger. a hobo is one option. really. i quite like the options given.

when sister was small her kindergarten or first grade class had to fill out a form about their intended professions. she wrote that she'd like to be a volcano when she grew up. most people end up in therapy trying to avoid that fate.

there's a piece of sembei that has the look of an end-of-career haggard pacman. edit: there was.

listening: i wonder why my favourite boy leaves me in the rain-- the marshmallow kisses.

a man somewhere in alaska found a boulder on his claim. a jade boulder. with twisted wire and bicycle rims and a gas engine he made a saw. one slice took two months. dedication. i learned this only today.

natal plum bloomed. beautiful. now maybe it will form that triangular fruit. looks like a dog's junk. i'm just sayin'.

listening: hotel california--the cat empire.

auntie passed on. better than life in the zoo. fare you well.

i like those slightly unfinished ice cubes in the freezer. they're a shell. a little pressure from the roof of my mouth makes them crackle and shatter. i keep eating them. lately prefered to hawaiian shaved ices.

how exciting! new cheburashka! yay!

they must be cliff swallows. those live in colonies. the violet-greens not so much. but the one i found dead in my vegetable garden last year was a violet-green. ridiculously pretty too.

oh! we had the best walk just now. a long while ago someone made a tree map. i could never locate the tulip tree. but as we turned down one of our favorite alleys i noticed orange light in the corner of my eye. tulip tree blooms. i snapped off two twigs. so pretty!

under the bridge the violet-green swallows have built many houses of aunt beru. going back with my analog soon to take a photo.

and here's a cute interview with aki.

listening: zou and chou-- aki tsuyuko.

now i want some banana milk. mmmm.

this is the day that the rooms finally become too full to be comfortable. books and albums take over. a murphy bed begins to seem reasonable. so too the headline about the girl folded into her wall with headphones still in place. what happened to her? she lived on bread crumbs and spider eggs and licked dew from the bedrails.

listening: owlet hymn-- aki tsuyuko.

we learn of tahitian marine bacteria from the pages of travel guides. it reverses one's sense of hot and cold. numbs one's lips. one can hardly say oui or non thereafter. but would it be a problem. eat a mango. take refuge in that palm. forget about using the powers of speech. enjoy the chilly polynesian shores.

invisible friends what happened to accord? it snapped.

snarey chaser.

merci. i'm here all week.

listening: dance at happy night-- aki tsuyuko.

tra la.

r.i.p.

desmond dekker has died. he was one of my musical heroes.

listening: fu manchu-- desmond dekker.

i've borrowed a book about papercutting. i've started snipping already. my work is poor. with practice i'll improve.


stir crazy. can't wait to be gone. and there's still quite a while to go. sigh.

g'night.

this afternoon in the park was our town's first farmers' market. the best smelling apricots. we left without them. sister is not a fan. we compromised and bought two baskets of strawberries to share as there aren't quite enough in our garden yet.

listening: agua de rosas-- lila downs.

we came upon a man bent over in the grass with a sickle. straightened and waved hello. just after passing the man a dead bird was on the street. i don't know what sort. but it was really beautiful. it had light-colored speckles on its back. the shoulder was checked with reddish brown.

there's the best sort of wind blowing now. at lewis dog's house the cottonwood is lapping the lightpost. the branches look like japanese woodblock prints. so pretty.

i met someone i hadn't met in a long time. she's very ill. she kept telling us how much she wants to die. she followed each telling with a round of laughter. someone i've liked my whole life but who has rarely had a care for another human being in all that time. someone who swindled my father when my family most desperately needed the money. suddenly so frail and friendly. seemed so compassionate in a way i can't convey. this switch i thought only happened between the covers of dickens.

i chased a toad around in the street. put him in the railroad easement's grass. i really love toads. they're so cute. and they seem so benevolent. and this one didn't even piss on my hand. yay!

the natal plum is going to bloom. i'm pretty excited. this will be the first flower it's ever set.

adieu.

cleaning up. the purging of many years worth of notebooks. i'd have liked to create some kind of fire from them. but no. instead they all went into plastic-y bags and will become a part of that future fascinating archeological landfill dig. right next to the perfectly preserved hotdogs somebody threw out. or the entire buried lawn mower.

someone showed me a video of an elderly irish guy who had discovered 150 year old butter preserved in peat on his property. he ate the butter and proclaimed it delicious. paper is much less hardy. what now does ephemeral mean? well.

my great-aunt has been sent to live in a convalescent home. i'm in a very poor mood. i rarely get very angry. but this news has really done it to me. really in a bad way.

tomorrow i'll resume sunshine and unicorns.

there wasn't any thunder with our rain. surprising. but there was quite a lot of rain! hooray!

to bed.

one of my new neighbors is an elderly woman. this morning we discovered that her nondescript granny mobile is equipped with a car alarm. she doesn't move swiftly enough to disarm the sirens in a timely fashion. nothing about her current living situation necessitates automobile anti-theft devices. nothing. about 150 feet from her front door is a rather lively cow pasture. to the left of her house is an empty lot. to the right of her house a utilities building. my house is between her and the cows. i'm not going to steal her car. i think the cows can safely be counted out as well. and the utilities people have very soupy utilities vehicles that can move at a good clip. i don't believe they have an interest in trading down. rarely do outsiders venture here (foreboding!). in the evenings can be seen droves of local family units. children in peppermint trolleys. older children on bicycles. and sometimes adolescents on dirt bikes. nobody blinks when they spy the beige-y blandness on four wheels that is my neighbor's car. probably until the alarm alerts them of its presence anyway.

i'm being peevish. i could forgive the alarm in a place where car thefts were the norm. here a gaggle of geese would be more effective and less irritating means of protection. also far less conspicuous.

it's raining. how strange. i thought we'd not get more rain until next year. it's getting a little late in the season for precipitation. the air feels muggy.

cat caught a mouse. the soap aloe is blooming.

listening: pull up the people-- m.i.a.