i hear you shuffling towards me / and i sense the impending certainty our lives’ intersection will impose / there will be no cataclysm of personality // only a continued indifference, the yawning chasm of you living your life, me living mine / fruition a thing of longing & beauty // when might we ever pass this way again

tiny things, bursting. molecular studies of grapefruit, clandestine affairs awash in moonlight. you feel me good. i’m not what you used to think i was, i think…

albuquerque. in the glare of a new mexico sun, caballeros with itchy b*lls. red leather fringe suits santa well in the southwest; the old guy dons woolen muffs for venturing into maine or northern minnesota.

door to door vacuum salesman wearies of ringing yet another bell. hey. it’s five o’clock somewhere…

Today is the first of October, the very best, the most beautiful, the most inspiring and exhilarating month of the year. I adore the color, the scent, the pageantry, the crispness, the whole vibe of this month punctuated at the end with the fun of Halloween, a time when kids of all ages can act out their fantasies. It’s a time to indulge our imaginations!

What’s not to love?

Spinach souffle left to gel on the counter

fizzy purple soda gone flat next to an unmade bed

pepperoni pizza, napkins from Kum N Go, soppy plates

& fly shit in the soup, crumbling spider carcasses

lining every window sill.

You promised me Paris in June,

Bangkok for our 25th.

Apparently, you forgot

how I longed for Istanbul.

Ragged mesh, gaping holes—

casements cranked wide to the right,

back door propped open with last year’s hiking boots—

grant entry to a horde of tiny, 6-legged, winged arthropods,

come on in with those compound eyes.

We’d yearned to summit Ypsilon,

settled for Emerald Lake.

I traded Mackinac for the Ring of Kerry,

my Townie Electra for Norwegian fjords.

That old, tired cliche has merit, indeed. When it rains, it certainly does pour.

A few weeks ago, our oven went all kablooey on us and we made the decision to upgrade our microwave, original to the house circa 2004, as well. We love the sleek look of a stainless-steel finish. When we needed to replace our refrigerator six years ago, we bought one in stainless-steel with the intention of updating the other appliances in a similar fashion when they, too, breathed their last.

That time is now and with the exception of the dishwasher – stubbornly holding on to provide us with clean dishes and silverware, bless her faded white-paneled exterior finish – every major kitchen appliance will be stainless-steel. Fair enough.

Except that now, our refrigerator has quit working. Frozen pizzas, not so frozen. Ice cube tray, a liquid, watery mess. Milk, juice, other perishables – yuck. A repair service is scheduled to arrive today to gauge the damage. Will we be presented with an uber-expensive repair diagnosis? Or will we be confronted with having to purchase our third refrigerator since moving into our present abode nearly seventeen years ago?

Oh. And that new oven-range unit we acquired two weeks ago? A third one (that’s the charmed one, right?) is scheduled to be delivered on Saturday. Seems the ‘Quick Pre-Heat’ functionality, which didn’t work on the first one doesn’t work on this one either. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Select Quick Pre-Heat to, say, 350 degrees. When the oven reaches that temperature, chime / beep / ring the bell / sound the alarm to notify its human ‘masters’ when baking can begin. However, without fail, both units indicate ‘all done; I’ve preheated your oven’ when the temperature hits 176 degrees (or thereabouts).



That will not suffice. In practical terms, using the old-fashioned method of just starting the oven and waiting until it beeps when it hits the selected temperature is just fine. I can live with that. But when you buy a brand-spanking-new anything, well, you expect everything to work as advertised. At least, I do. It’s the principle of the thing.


We shall see…

It’s one of those drizzly, soggy September mornings. A bit more chill in the air than we’ve experienced thus far this season. Perfect weather for diving back beneath the sheets or, if you’re a tad more ambitious, getting out of bed at 4:45 AM and spending an hour sewing blocks together for a new quilt I’m working on. I’m tired now, four hours later although a short twenty-minute nap seems to have revived me somewhat. A hot cup of tea at hand – love me some Harney & Sons’s Hot Cinnamon Spice! – and I’m almost ready to tackle that hamper full of dirty laundry.

Happy Friday everyone!