Monday, February 27, 2017
Yesterday he was unsure. Today he let me dribble oregano oil on the pads of his feet.
I hope he feels better.
Golden gnome hat on top of the coat rack.
We buy jumbo pillows made from organic cotton at Costco. We are hoping it will help me sleep better.
I go for a long run, walk the dog who's been at the shelter the longest, buy the pillows, take a bath and read nearly 100 pages from one of the eight new books I've checked out from the library. I am greedy for literature.
Wilson is attacking the fake mouse on the living room rug.
I am feeling a bit worn out.
It is easy to make a basic sandwich cake. But we want them to go much further than that.
She has never curdled a custard before.
I have moved the rosemary plant away from the window and onto the counter by the sink, where it will be warmer.
I needed to go away for a while.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Today I went to an aromatherapy workshop, walked dogs at the shelter, and did 1.5 hours of Bhakti yoga. This is the good life.
Still I find myself wanting. Or is it loss.
I simultaneously crave late drunken nights filled with conversations we deem to be meaningful and marathoning home renovation shows on the laptop.
I simultaneously crave a half-pint of dairy-free ice cream and a cup of weak, tepid tea.
I simultaneously crave strumming the guitar until the tips of my fingers scream and lying prostrate on the couch for a while before padding into bed.
Do I want to shower or don't I.
Maybe it's the oils.
On my feet: oregano
On my solar plexus: sweet basil
On my ears: eucalyptus
On my forehead, at my third eye: mugwort and frankincense
On the concavity at the base of my abdomen: chamomile (mild)
With this I am remembering hiding behind the couch at all those house parties that got busted by the cops. Him feeding me mac 'n cheese and making out on the rooftop. That I thought I really liked him.
Each time thinking, now this is what liking is like.
The delicate silver leafprints hang from the stiffening tree. The rosemary plant is probably too cold by the window. Three days ago it was over 50 degrees.
Most mornings I wake to snow, cold seeping in through the cracks of the windows and doors.
I don't think I've ever said it first.
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Where is the hummus?
He spreads red sauce over the crust.
I wrote a haiku while I was in the bathtub. Now I forget it. It ended with the word "red".
He washes the kale.
I listen to a podcast about procreating agreements.
I have been thinking a lot that I am only just beginning to understand what it means to be friends.
He pats mozzarella onto the top.
I spent a lot of money on having the option to run away.
My god, that's why I thought of it.
Wilson scrambles onto the couch in a burst of speed.
That bag of bananas is still so very, very green.
Those look good.
They've got kale on 'em.
I knew she was done and the radio silence confirms it.
Picture a whale with knuckles.
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Sometimes I start with the last line first.
Her name was Norma and she had black hair.
I wonder what high school would be like with a name like Woody.
I am choosing not to dwell in cynicism.
I can't believe she left him alone with her daughter. I sit tense on the other side of the door, ready to attack if I hear her scream.
Wilson does not like the sound or the vibration or the shape of the guitar. He sits grumpily on the loveseat in the other room while he plays.
This is my life.
That was not love,
in my imagination,
though I thought it was, or,
at least, I wanted it to be
It's like that movie that used to be one of my favorites and isn't really any more but still conveyed a lesson that I remember and appreciate today: The fantasy is not real love.
The real thing is much more complicated.
When it's on, there's nothing like it.
Don't react. Create.
Last night I swear to god I stood in the bloody bathroom with my psyche and we had a good chat. She is younger than I expected, but no less powerful or wise.
Today I was so tired. But the warmth and the light called to me, so I put on my running tights and I went back outside. I ran for miles with my face turned up toward the sun.
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Woody Guthrie keeping me going.
Here's one thing I have learned: Being married doesn't mean shit about one's ability to love. That comes from somewhere else.
Wilkum wilkum falconswan long-necked waterfowl red-cheeked hummingbirds red-topped woodpeckers chillypenguins pelicans goldfinchesinpinkflowers blackestravens dancer-leggedplovers bluebirdssharingworms
The irises have been in water inside the glass jar for just about five hours now and a few of them are starting to open.
mottled gold bowl from Vietnam
One thing that is different is that when I am feeling it I know he's feeling it too.
I miss Mona.
fingerless mauve gloves is that right, mauve?
the owner of the local music shop the next town over wanted to charge me $450 for the used Martin, but due to the negligible crack in the solid wood top I talked him down, down, down and now I am the owner of the most beautiful guitar out of Nazareth (and this time I'm going to learn how to play.)
I know that I can because I'm gliding down icy downhills on my cross-country skis now and a month ago I side-stepped down the edge of them.
What a bowl!
As expected, the stand-up veterinarian was pretty entertaining.
I made the green clay cup on the pottery wheel--my first project in that class nearly a decade ago--and it has been a source of some embarrassment but also a functional change jar or rinse water cup for painting ever since, and that is why I brought it with me (along with an extremely limited assortment of possessions) to Colorado. now it sits on the little ledge behind the door and spiders have turned it into a mansion. I will not use it as a change jar or a rinse water cup for painting because they have covered it in such beautiful webbing; it is their home, and I'm happy to have provided it, all the way from pennsylvania.
watersheds soils entomology tree and shrub pruning landscaping vegetables
I do not know him that well but I think we love each other in some way and today when we met unexpectedly in the coffee shop he was so genuinely happy to see me that he put his hand on my back in my copper wool sweater and it felt good
When I start to feel like I made a huge mistake I remind myself that love is still real even when it's temporary.