Thursday, January 14, 2010

lilacs, dressing,neighbors

*Through the countryside I drive past a long row of bare branched tall bushes, so wintry. And then I remember that this is a long(quarter of a mile?) row of lilac bushes that in May will be overladened with deep purple lilac blossoms. The thought and imagined aroma leads me to remember and index all the places in town I go to collect lilac branches in the spring, places that are public and where no one will accost me when I relieve the bushes of heavy branches. Let's the pizza place, by my daughter's former apartment, around the corner of the grocery store.....oh, yes, by the church with the maze.

*A new and different salad dressing.

*I come across our neighbors as they are closing their door--they are out to lunch having just gotten up after a night of writing (him) and art(her). She is so cute in a grey jogging outfit and bouncing ponytails.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

stained glass,tools,ruminations

*A late night supper by the large windows of a restaurant looking out over Old Town Square. I've spent the day helping a woman in the hospital who dislikes me so the bangers and mash are especially good and it is lovely to be with my son and his wife. The white Christmas lights are still strung through the trees under which happy people stroll. I glance up to the second story windows of the buildings opposite (shops on the ground floor, offices above) and notice for the first time ever (I've never been here at so dark a time)that the long windows have a wide rim of stained glass through which light is passing.An iris blue, garnet red, jonquil yellow. Someone is late at work. When I glance back up as we are about to leave the windows are dark and I know the person is homeward to their supper.

*I like to give people the tools with which to solve a problem. They pick up the tools and find solutions.

*The lovely rumination of someone else's idea and the decision whether or not to agree with it.

Monday, January 11, 2010

balloon, type, facecloths

*"Can the balloon be on it,too?"
"And the plants will be fresh?"
"They will find really nice plants in their greenhouse."
And so the plants are sent out as a thank you.

*Thank you, Dad, for forcing me to take that typing class. I've been doing it all day and making things legible.

*A stack of new facecloths--muted colors and fluffy.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

b and m, floating, eyes closed

*Bangers and mash. Potatoes so soft and warm I want to lie down in them and forget the negative numbers. With the skins left in. Sausage crisp browned skin that takes some extra muscle and pop when my teeth finally go in. With warm applesauce.

*I forget about the warm floating table when I lay down for a facial and just about slid off onto the floor--so easy then to imagine I am on a water mattress in the summer pool.

*We have a morning routine that I can do with my eyes barely open.

Monday, January 4, 2010

massage and coffee, rosy glow, 40's

*Perfect day=a massage by someone who knows when to talk and when to be quiet+Vietnamese coffee at a cafe where I am not bustled along so as to vacate the table and chair.

*Little bits of Australian wine left in a canning jar on the table. When I peer through the red the world shimmers and glows.

*40's radio programs on the car radio--the sound effects and the need to describe all the action in words. My brain works hard to imagine just what is going on and I purposefully drive out of my way to hear the end of the tale.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

dormez, bebe; vertical, a pile, olfactory

*I read the twitters of a very tired mother and send good vibes and love to her.

*Just as I ask the weather forecast I can say it myself for out the window vertical snow (horizontal would mean wind additionally)is falling and continues until the street lights go on and make the flakes glisten.

*Sitting in our usual Sunday chairs at the bookstore engrossed in my top-of-the-pile book I glance up to see him similarly engrossed in a book from an equally tall pile.

*When we choose Sunday chairs they are just far enough from the bakery to ignore my chocolate desires but deliciously close enough to fascinate my olfactory sense.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

juice, coffee, day off +

*Crisp apple juice.

*Grinding coffee in the market--the freshness follows me into the car for the drive home. Even after I put it into the kitchen the car retains the wonderful coffee smell, a plus for being forced to keep the car windows closed in the cold weather.

*As I take a day off from my desk I realize that I've become too engrossed in some projects. It's like I stepped away and can get a better perspective of all the tatty paperwork which covers my spindly folding table desks.

(*He bought me a reissued cartoon collection that we both grew up reading. I haven't looked through them but enjoy his laughter and "I remember this one" as he reads them.)

Friday, January 1, 2010

fishbowl, lap baby, streets

*I work on something till my eyes are dry and stinging. Look up. And see it has become dark outside and my work at my desk a fishbowl in front of the open blinds.

*Connecting with someone about a family photo in which her ancestor is a month old baby on his mother's lap.

*The holiday has slowed down the city so that the streets are quiet--I can drive and look around without worry that I'll run into something.