Thursday, July 30, 2009

I'm Not Gonna Talk About It

You have to be here to understand. Everything smells like it's on fire. Is that my engine? The elementary school? The pumps at the gas station? A brush fire on I-5, the fur of the animals at the zoo? It won't make sense unless you're here.

I've given up everything. Dishwashing first, always, then meals, then clothing, the need to sleep with something covering me. I abandon hair-drying, the longing for sunshine, the process of falling in love, the desire to leave work at the end of the day. I wonder which ex-boyfriend kept that fan, and everything starts to look the way everything looks in those movies where the camera lingers on someone alone, the scenery going by, a child's fingers on the car window.

There is no loneliness in heat this close, and misery is possible the first day, but after the second I've given that up too. The heat takes on another form, like time, when you're waiting. In a moment of relief, we watch the preview for a movie where someone says "Time heals, they say, but the years get heavier as they go. They don't tell you that," and that's what the heat is like. Oppressive like a grief whose root is the deepest joy, so that when these things are upon you, you cannot tell the difference between them, between heat and time and what is sad and made you happy, they are all the same, all more than you ever intended to bear, but no one cancels work and the coffee shop is still open, though silent from the heat, and you don't call the ex-boyfriend with the fan, and as hot as you are, there is always another bead of sweat for the small of your back, more heat rising off the nape of your neck. For now there is just this popsicle, this lime juice, this cold cold movie theater and tomorrow, again, the sanctuary of work.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Baby Aspirin

I am always getting terrible photos of him, though he is lovely in real life. One of my friends recently said that when she met him, she felt like he was looking through her soul. He does have an eye, that's for sure, but whenever I turn mine on him, I seem to catch him startled or unprepared, and always always disheveled. The one above is my favorite now, because it somehow it at least catches his stature.

It captures the kind of night it was too. We didn't know where we were going, and the nicest part of it was the walking, not the being there. Court and I did sit on his stoop and talk for a while, and that was good, and I took photos of the ladies' shoes and T Lily's long legs, and we were all happy with the banana split I think, though we were so busy talking about other things that we almost forgot to mention it as our spoons scooped up the bruled banana, the marshmallow cloud on top of the little ice cream discs, the praline nuts. Later I walked into a room of Scatergories and a brunette in a summer dress called out to me, with a big smile, "New Girl!! Play for me! I just realized.. I'm too drunk to play!" and then I couldn't think up an item of clothing that started with I and envied Tim when he revealed his - intimates. Of course.

Even later, D and I met in the parking lot of the drive-in and he bought me a chocolate shake that I drank two sips of and we sat in my car catching up on our days. I was still in my work clothes and he was wearing the shoes from dinner at Cafe Juanita the night before. We had been so many other places during the day, but I was glad it all ended up there.

Monday, July 20, 2009

It's Your Duty to Watch This Whole Thing

Ridiculously adorable and hilarious around a minute 45 into it. Startin to wonder if I'll ever get my dance partner back though... Weekend update soon, but I'll tip my cards and tell you that even Andrew Bird wasn't as good as the three boys in Widower. Course, I am biased, but I've told you about that before. Thanks to Jess for calling my attention to the video!

Friday, July 17, 2009


Heading off to the Edgefield, Ace, Screen Door and who else knows where, cameras in tow.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

There were clowns

Max isn't quite sure what this is all about, but he likes the yarn pompom

So it goes without saying that I missed spending the fourth with you and Mom and Dakota and Clay and Joseph something awful. But I thought I should say it.

We did manage to have quite a fun time on our own Fourth of July though, in no small part due to Grandma Carolyn's sense of humor and diligent sewing fetish. For her community's little Fourth of July Parade (which was not so little, in fact) she whipped up clown costumes for the boys. Patriotic clowns. There is some symbolism and irony in that, but I'll let you sort it out for yourself.

She already had two adult patriotic clown costumes, but I declined the offer to wear one - in favor of Eugene. I just wore some jeans and a navy blue top to coordinate, along with the boys' color block wood bead necklace. I thought it was a pretty festive outfit, for me.

Thomas will go along with the clown thing, so long as he gets to carry the cowbell

It was pretty bloody hot, so I wasn't too put out about not having a million layers on. I did carry Thomas on my shoulders most of the way, but both of the boys were very cute about walking whenever we were passing by a particularly engaging crowd - in particular the Judges Table.

Thomas had found this old cowbell at Carolyn and Ernie's house and every time we put him down to walk, he just went crazy ringing it. It was guaranteed entertainment - the entire trip.

Eugene and Grandma Carolyn in their clown costumes...

We walked behind a dixieland band, which made the parade that much more fun for us. They were super lively and willing to let us perch on their flatbed if we got a bit worn out. It was quite a long parade.

Outdoor baby bath - like a car wash only cuter

When we got back to Carolyn and Ernie's, it was past time for the boys' nap but they were super sticky from the whole parade experience. I didn't feel like tromping them inside for a full-on bath, so we decided to just hose them off on the deck. It was hilarious.

Thomas was grinning and laughing and sticking his puffy little puppy belly out, but Max was on the run - laughing and hiding behind the deck furniture. It's crazy just how distinct their personalities are.

And it is getting more and more obvious all the time.

Friday, July 10, 2009

More Home Cooking

Kate made her famous roast chicken
The appetizer was pie
My job was holding down this chair
I saw every step and still it was magical and mysterious
Swiffer had a job too

Monday, July 06, 2009

One Tiny Cowboy

I bought a bird and a whale. We drove to LaConner and Edison, ate landjaeger and coconut cookies and salmon in the garden without even a wasp to trouble us. The drive from LaConner to Portland was long but went so fast there was barely time to listen to Abbey Road. The family barbecue lasted for hours and the street was filled with the gunpowdered confetti of spent fireworks and the ice cream man came by in a mini-van and we all thought the popsicles were cheap when you really think about what you're getting. Missed you lots.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Mad Skills

So silly. Just something to tide you over... since we are traveling, I don't know when I will be able to post. xoxo