I want to crash, but instead, there is laundry and cleaning to do, and the children want supper. All right. All right. I cook and do battle with the kitchen.
I spend the day in gratitude. And, I almost rest. Almost.
Errands! And, I rearrange my space. You know what’s coming.
But first—I drive out to visit a friend in the country and feed a nine week old calf from a bottle and meet a redneck with a heart of gold who gives me a cheap Indian cigar. Also, see baby owls learn how to fly. Beautiful.
A rough day. Damn anniversaries. I read Hafez.
I fall to pieces.
I lie on the ground. Dance on me; I will not get up.
I am Canadian.
I just arm-wrestled my 6’3 tall 16 y o son & won & I only had to cheat a little. ;P
In other news, the 13 y o-almost black belt is now officially more flexible than her elderly mother. But, I can still kick her in head. She wasn’t expecting that.
I can still kick the 8 y o’s butt at everything. Except for video games.
How brief the reign is.
Sean: And that’s the last time I bring you guys free syringes I scavenge at work!
Sometimes, I just don’t want to know.
Flora: I hate you! You’re ruining this hippy family.
That’s to Cinder. Who’s going to a real bricks and mortar school next fall. She disapproves. Me? Mixed feelings. But generally, I think he’s ready; he’s gonna be all right.
Cinder: Did you know that Hitler had literally one ball? There’s an article in The Guardian about that today.
We google it and verify the research, and then find this video:
We call it social studies.
I don’t know, my love. Life can be good and one can be sad all at the same time, right?
I go to bed every night with Rex Stout’s Archie Goodwin. Nero Wolfe’s there, too, but it’s all about Archie.
I don’t know, my love. I need to rest, I realize, but I seem to have forgotten how to do that.
I will stretch out in the sun every chance I get this week, like a lazy cat.
And on rainy days, I will smoke sheesha and dream.
Life can be good and one can be sad at the same time.
—->>>POSTCARDS FROM CUBA
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