Just put up, fresh after midnight…
Just put up, fresh after midnight…
Sophie the dog was exceptionally nervous all night, wanting to be let out and in, and whuffing and barking at me the rest of the time. Just now, I heard the reason for all of her nervous energy: coyotes, the local pack, at least five of them and probably more around ten. Their yelps are somewhere on the continuum between dog-bark and siren. Once you hear them, you can’t mistake them for dogs barking.
Then, a few minutes later, sirens. So, Sophie is inside, and we are shut away from their howls, and from whatever caused their howls.
I sit here late at night on a cold and rainy midnight, readjusting my fingers to the Macintosh’s keyboard. I am not yet ready to hunker down into the partial hibernation that one goes into in the winter time. I look for color when the outer world is drained of it. Today there are maples whose color is so full of flame that the sight of them startles you even when you are expecting to see them.
The boiler is clanking away down in the basement, and now the house feels like the inside of a great tea kettle just about to boil.
Satchel the Cat was visiting the vet’s today — his stomach has been bothering him a bit, Buck says, but he eats just fine when I feed him. I might think that he was going to miss summer as much as I do, but he never goes outside, so the notion of what season it is is moot for him.
And now, sleep.
This was exactly my opinion last night while I was watching the debate. The constant repetition of “my friends” was spooking me out, but I didn’t think anyone else had noticed it, until I read the following.
Dear Senator McCain:
Repeatedly calling me and everyone else in the United States “my friends” is extremely annoying. In part, it’s just an irritating phrase. Beyond that, I’m not your friend. I don’t know you, and, from what I know of you, I don’t even really like you. Sorry to focus on such superficialities when the world economy is going to Hell, but you probably lost more votes with your constant repitition of “my friends” than from anything Obama said.
One thing that I have learned this past week, when I have been busy not posting to the blog, is that Boulder has to be the capital of sushi-making in the world. I think that we here have to have more sushi restaurants per capita than, say New York City.
Our current favorite sushi restaurant is Sushi Zanmai. We have been there for dinner the past two nights. They make a lovely Kobe beef sushi, and I must have eaten them out of their stock of Kobe beef. We sit at the sushi counter so we can keep an eye out on our food while it’s being made.
I also love this city because I’m believing this place is imbuing me with health. I look and feel healthier than I looked and felt before the cancer diagnosis. I figure that that’s a good thing no matter how you look at it.
Tea is coming, and then I decide on a yoga class. Yoga helps me to write; at least, that’s the story that I’m going with now.
(ps: that’s not my own picture at the top… I’m trying a new service called tagaroo.)
Giving Yoga Culture The Star Treatment
a lifestyle blog!
di Stefania Carbonara
Recovering alcoholic. Come laugh, cry, rant and celebrate with me. Just don't offer to buy me a drink.
words .. ideas .. images
Books and Writing I News and Resources
Thoughts and images of this moment in 日本
A blog from the author of The Cage Legacy
Inspirational rhymes from a modern day Warrior Poet
From dream to reality... Everything is possible. Always.
« Je pensais regarder le monde et c’est le monde qui me regarde. » St François d’Assise
Ink Slinger in Inner Space
by David Barrett
Sleep. Eat. Write. Repeat.
Thoughts of a former Quiverfull daughter who left the fundamentalist homeschooling lifestyle, got an education, and learned a different definition of "worldly."
"Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences." - Sylvia Plath
an etegami postcard blog
A Backward Look Forward
"Owls are not what they seem"
Fashion.Art.Photography.NewAge.PectusCarnaitum.Anything that inspires me
"...ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will answer you: I am here to live out loud." Emile Zola
The official website of Bryana Joy Johnson
A Repository Of One Man's Enigmatic Musings
Poetry and Other Ramblings
I mean to say that I say what I don't mean.
unleash the element within
A creative diary
about the little things in life
I share what i like and makes me happy. Welcome!
In which freelance writer Malcolm Wyatt jealously guards his own little corner of interweb hyperspace
A topnotch WordPress.com site
My True Sentence
Just another WordPress.com site
...these Points along the Way...
a picture-postcard blog
Poetry, Stories, Life, Mental Illness, Death, Divorce, Love, Hope, Pain, Journey, Honesty, Sex, Mystery, Horror, Art, Experience, Abuse, Addiction, Survival, Coping, Misery, How to love the dark.
Through the glass darkly