On TV: Kipper the dog in green boots, a magic frog, a puddle, and an elephant. Beside me: Bea, opening the mail. On a chair: Elspeth, in frilly blue seersucker dress and flowered hat. Far away: most of you. Close enough: Martin playing racquetball at the U and Merry sitting in a classroom. In the garden: sugarsnap peas, plump strawberries, silky pink roses, tiny green tomatoes, sunflower seedlings. In my head: not much. In my stomach: good coffee and brownsugary oatmeal.
Such are the summers. Not much ticking around in my head except maybe a ceiling fan. Plenty of shite to spread on the garden beds, plenty of dirt in my toenails, plenty fresh fruit and herbs bolting to seed in soaring heat. The children naked in the paddling pool. Pressing concerns include: what to eat for dinner, sand tracked through the house, who's napping with the kids, what pass to buy at the pool.
In other news, Martin's off to Louisville for a week soon to sample good bourbon and grade APs (and make some good money for a fence!), Merry has one scant week left at school, a visit from my mother is on the horizon, and I got a copy of Cold Mountain Review with MY ESSAY PRINTED IN IT! Nice to hold it in my hands, and full of good prose and poetry by other people I've never met. I'll include a link when their site is updated.
Monday, June 7, 2010
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