A woman jogger with stocking seams tattooed down the backs of her bare legs, bows at the bottom near her ankles. A man walking along 42nd, not far from Fremont by AJ Java, taking off his sandals to walk in bare feet across Prescott Street…
A woman jogger with stocking seams tattooed down the backs of her bare legs, bows at the bottom near her ankles. A man walking along 42nd, not far from Fremont by AJ Java, taking off his sandals to walk in bare feet across Prescott Street…
I feel like Richard, Ronna, and John in DC are all getting one up on me re: this virtual summer holiday so I thought I’d better come up with something of my own to offer/throw into the mix. Let’s see. What did I do on my summer vacation?…
I pretty much did what I wanted to do today. That included going to Fred Meyer to buy myself a gorgeous wild bi-colored dahlia (on sale), making a set of haiku-inspired artist trading cards, talking to our neighbor (back from a month-long trip to Texas), eating leftovers
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Over the past few hot, holiday days, we’ve also heard “Pop! Goes the Weasel” and “You Are My Sunshine”—competing ice cream vendors, who knows? This is life in the city, post-Baghdad on the Columbia 4th of July festivities around the corner and down the street. It’s been an enlightening number of days
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It is a gorgeous summer morning. I have the screen door open so the cats can mosey in and out. Of course, this allows the flies to visit as well. One particularly large and obnoxious one is flitting about the dining room as I type. This too shall pass….
I read this poem by Daniel Tobin in a recent issue of Poetry. Talk about economy of words. Wow. Speaks volumes, I think. The brilliance …
It’s finally warm enough today to have the front door and windows open, the fresh air rushing blissfully in. The cats are outside lazing in sun and stalking arrogant, taunting squirrels. …
Today I made a conscious effort to change some of how I do things rather than fixate on what I do and be all crabby about not doing enough, being disciplined, etc. (my usual state). I tried to focus my morning journal pages …
Apparently 75,000 people assembled somehow, someway on the banks of the Willamette River earlier today to hear Barack Obama speak for half-an-hour. Lines wound around downtown corners, landmarks, blocks—
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We’re back and I’m glad. To an overgrown garden, just-blooming rhododendrons, bleeding hearts and ferns along the grass out front, and jet lag to beat the band, of course. I seem to get four or five caffeine-fueled waking hours with some clarity of mind
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