Funny, you seldom find circles in Nature.
Ponies Go Up And Down
Category Archives: This Never Happened To Pablo Picasso
Fight Fight the Power
Happy New Year! I went without swearing at someone on the internet until 12:36 because I slept in somewhat. Still: a fucking record!
Is Different In My Eyes
Sometimes, I look up and mutter, “Goddamn, I wish I knew how to paint.”
To the Border Of Mexico
Problem: six people in need of stuff and two weeks to make stuff.
Solution: buy a bigger crochet hook.
When There’s Nothing To Be
After dinner, Pete and I take walks around the tiny town. People watch us, but they usually don’t speak. Tonight, a woman walking a giant poodle started talking to us from half a block away about a metal children’s car in an antique store window. Pete makes her omelets all the time at the restaurant. He says her politeness is confusing in a local.
Pete didn’t hear the alarm this morning, but I got up and immediately felt nervous. This feeling followed me through the day. By the early evening, I was jumping out of my skin. The doorbell rang. Through the front door, I saw my nephew. He said, I forgot yesterday was Monday. I said, Me too!
A Game Of Horseshoes
Another adventure with the new camera. I didn’t crop this image because the level of detail had me agog. Agog!
It So Alive And Alone
I keep trying to hibernate. I fail at least once a day, but if I’m industrious, I can nap and make a second attempt.
Best But I Could Do Without
Perhaps you remember these among my many antics:
Okay. Okay. Okay: we’re sitting in the car on the way home and I burst out laughing.
Tata: Omigod, I forgot to tell you something.
Pete: You like my rugged good looks?
Tata: Pffft! Like I shut up about that. Remember I took a shower for about a year before we went out?
Pete: I remember.
Tata: And remember that I’ve been glum about my hair for weeks?
Pete: How could I forget?
Tata: And I’ve been putting my hair up in a ponytail to avoid dealing with it?
Pete: I’m still snickering. I mean, sure.
Tata: And since I got sick I’ve been complaining I could smell fever on my scalp?
Pete: Hoo boy, yes.
Tata: And you know how we bulk shop at Costco and use giant bottles of smelly goo?
Pete: Indeed I do!
Tata: Well, I was in the shower before and I washed my hair, and I was really frustrated because I couldn’t get the shampoo to lather, which I thought was because my scalp had suddenly become oily or something. So I washed my hair a second time and still no lather and I was just like, “What?” So finally I turned the bottle around and if you can believe it, I have been washing my hair for – like – six weeks with conditioner.And then, when I expected him to drive off the road in stupefaction at my antics, Pete said the most extraordinary thing.
Pete: I know.
What?
Tata: What?
Pete: I was looking through the bottles on the shelves in the bathtub. There’s this stuff, that stuff, some other stuff and I said, “What’s she washing with?”
Tata: And you didn’t say anything?
Pete: Nooooooo. You’re mysterious.
Tata: I’m not mysterious, I’m – like – stupid.Don’t panic! I’ve washed my long, luxurious blond hair, glazed it, conditioned it and come clean about this episode with every last one of my female co-workers, and at the end of the story, when they’re gasping at my ability to move about in society without a keeper, I can see they are mentally reviewing the products in their bathrooms.
So you will be unsurprised to discover ridiculous history repeating today.
Tata: Do you want to pick out conditioner?
Pete: No. Yours is just fine.
I had just recycled an empty bottle of conditioner so I made the puzzled face.
Tata: What conditioner?
Pete: The small container.
Mentally, I sorted through the products and came to a startling conclusion.
Tata: I’ve been washing my face with conditioner, haven’t I?
If no one has invented the in-shower reading glasses, I’ll get right on that.
Make A Home Down There
This stunning photo was taken by Pete on the Albany Street Bridge this morning. The light was so full of strange tricks, I demanded Pete leave me at the library and grab a camera. Yahtzee!
Or Take Me For A Ride
I think about writing. I do. Every day, all the time, I think about writing because I am a writer. It is one of the basic things I know about me, like that I am left-handed and that no one will see my natural hair color without a court order. I’d also need another six hours every day to be all the other things I know about me.
Pete is thinking about bread. We get up in the dark every day now and get on our bicycles before the mornings lose their blueness. It is interesting for him to contemplate breads he will later bake while we dodge drivers oblivious and homicidal. Tomorrow: miniature flatbreads, but we could use a better bike path.
Several of my annual projects are close to completion; I may have mentioned it. Perhaps I didn’t, but thought I was boring you senseless about project x, project y, project z and group efforts 1, 2 and 3. This happens, sometimes. One summer, I thought I was complaining ad nauseum about a family wedding, but it turned out I had zipped my Love That Red lips. Only one person at my job remembered hearing I’d be celebrating crankily, while everyone else scratched their heads. I’ll take pictures. Also: do not scratch that.
Poor Impulse Control 