Sunday, August 10, 2014

Saturday, August 09, 2014

Moon, Nearly Super

I took Gus for a walk around the block just now, and it felt like a slightly twisted children's book about a neighborhood.

One neighbor was still smoking the sweet-smelling stuff, hours later.

Two neighbors pulled up in their driveway. The lady went stomping quickly into the house, while the man got slowly out of the car and really took his time walking into the house behind her.

One neighbor blew his nose behind a shade-drawn bathroom window. It was one of those fabulous, loud, horn-honking nose blows.

Inside another house, the two corgis barked their loud corgi barks, while the neighbor lady screamed at them to shut up.

The neighbor whose computer monitor light glows, blue, always, while the rest of his house is dark, sat behind his computer monitor in an upstairs window.

The moon gleamed and shone up above.

Additionally, when I came inside I became convinced that there was a biting bug on my neck and I tore off my shirt in the kitchen and made Mark inspect the top half of me for insects. There may have been a biting bug that made a subtle escape at some point, or it may have been my hair...

Thursday, August 07, 2014

Turn Yourself Inside Out and You Might Disappear

See what I mean?

So clean, so white! Rrrreally needs some things on the walls.

That chandelier, though. It is so clean and sparkly that I am deeply ashamed.

Please watch this video! It is pretty great, the song is lovely, and my latest favorite is siblings who sing together.

"There is a better way to say empty space
Turn yourself inside out and you might disappear  
you have a new definition in empty space
What I like about impermanence is the clash
of my big body with empty space
I am putting the floor back together again
I am rebuilding the wall
I am slapping mortar on bricks
I am fastening the machine together with delicate wire
There is no eternal thread, maybe there is thread of pure gold
I am starting to sing inside about the empty space
there is some new detail every time"

from Makeup on Empty Space by Anne Waldman

Wednesday, August 06, 2014


The furniture has been moved back in, the chandelier has never been cleaner. There is nothing on the white, white walls yet. Is this our empty nested future, so clean and tidy and empty?

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

I See a Blue Wall and I Want to Paint it White

Well Jeezum Crow I might say, were I the kind of person who said that. This white room project is kicking our metaphorical butts around here. I've lost track of how many trips to the hardware store and how many dollars worth of white paint we've purchased and how many brush strokes and roller swathes of white paint we've slapped on these four walls and ceiling...

Gah is what I'd actually say, I guess. It's going to look "clean and bright and elegant," because that's what I promised Mark, who is at Lowe's right now, buying yet another gallon of paint.

At least there's Neko Case and Sharon Van Etten and Andrew Bird to listen to, and the sound, periodically, of Isaac and his friend Toby laughing like maniacs in the other room, where they're watching something and eating roasted kale.

Monday, August 04, 2014


I interrupt my semi-productive workday to update this, my August bloggg. The weather is funny today, cold-hot, shivery-sweaty. We are not putting white paint coat number three on the walls this afternoon, because the light is gone already, it's so hazy and dull outside. Tomorrow is the day, and then we can move the furniture back in and see what we think--too stark, or no? It sure is looking clean in there!

These dogs. Do they have any idea how good they've got it? See Gus, right at the front of the swimming pack? He is still a popular fellow on the beach, though he's more...chill. He doesn't necessarily put a lampshade on his head and spazz out like he used to. He's kind of grown up and mature now, although he does usually go bananas and race around the beach like a crazy dog at least once while we're there.

Back to work, you. I said to myself.

Sunday, August 03, 2014

Purple Potatoes

There will not be a color theme this month. However, Mark bought little heirloom potatoes at the farmer's market yesterday, as well as salad greens, enormous beets, tiny cucumbers, and pastured eggs. Tonight I made what's become the meal of the summer, a big salad with lots of stuff in it. Often we'll also grill something--tofu or fish--but tonight I just roasted the beets, and the purple potatoes, hard boiled some eggs, drizzled homemade balsamic dressing over the whole thing. We ate crammed in the kitchen at our big table, which is shoved in there against the dishwasher as the dining room painting project continues.

I feel like we're nesting, the way you do before a baby is born--I'm not sure if it's in preparation for Zoë's return in two weeks, or the emptying of the nest two weeks after that.

We watched a terrible movie. It probably calls for a haiku.