checking in

by dishpantheism

i don’t think i’ve improved on the grouchy front too much but i have been productive. projects are in the works. i feel good about them. working on bits of translation and feeling good about the possibility of introducing english speakers to stories previously unavailable in that language. but i won’t jinx myself by saying more.

in other news…

knitting a lace cowl. this one. beginning to genuinely enjoy the taste of dietary iodine. it tastes like the ocean on a good day and like minerals and butter. i wouldn’t recommend it in place of a sidecar or a cup of tea but it’s not as terrible as i’d anticipated. i’ve managed to find its better points in the same way i can smell decay in an inflorescence of jasmine and still love that odor. trying on optimism. wearing it around. it’s sort of like trying on new glasses as i have no idea if it suits me. i’ll wait for the reports to filter in. let’s see. what else? planning ahead. possibly planning ahead for two. planning for peru. the reticle also shows that a year hence tanzania might be possible. (tanzania!) i like this spyglass. it’s far less shabby than the last. i’m enjoying my garden. alpine strawberries. peas. chard. and now there are little tomatoes forming on the black krims and green zebras and a few on the currant tomato vines. black aztec sweet corn. blueberries are ripening. instead of philtres i now spend my time researching herbs to curb sexual desire. i have a vintage french herbal that i bought long ago solely because it had an entry for treating nymphomania which i found amusing. the french! i haven’t reached that state. but sometimes i don’t know what’s good for me. i’ve prescribed myself a summer of cold compresses and bland meals and i’ve covered my piano’s legs just to err on the side of caution.

 

the recent past: i went for a boat excursion down the san lorenzo river with a most wonderful and beloved biped. the river stole my shoe. it tried to steal me too but it failed. and my friend and i rowed against the water back to the safety of the green and dappled shore. it wasn’t quite wind in the willows but it was a hoot. the following evening the same biped insisted i be social and forced me to dinner with an amusing and snarky poet. this one. i had fun. and he had good taste in music. before that i turned 35. but we’ll try not to dwell on that last bit.

until next time.

 

 

 

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