Saturday, January 31, 2015


Ball game tied.  Two minutes left. 

Rusty haired child standing elbows on knees, peeking through a veil of suspense. His game was this morning. He knows the rush of success and the hollowness of misstep. He watches, tongue pinioned, fingers splayed on the floor. The bumps of his child frame show through his own game shirt, smeared with dirt from an afternoon in the yard. His breath hisses and squeaks in time with the squeaks of the blue shoes. He is held safely between the knees and arms of his dad who leans over him in paired tension. Two strings tuned to different octaves. 

He is safe now--his world bounded by the shot clock and a tied score. We can keep him safe tonight.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015


How in brunch did I not know that a portmanteau was a mash up of two words and not a suitcase?

In light of this I have decided that I can no longer in good faith call myself a burgeoning word-smith and I will now take up French origami.

Thank you.

Why do we like things?

There are things we like.


The larger collective. Things that last. Classics.  Things that Last. Books you want people to notice you are reading. But why?

Why do we like things?

Why this one and not that one?

I used to sit in halls of the music building talking with my friends. We would learn something on Monday and Tuesday it would be our most ardent passion. Bach's Goldberg Variations? the complexity! Bartok's work in ethnomusicology? seminal! I dream of doing similar work with the folk

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

A very messy life...

My life is pretty messy. I have decided that while my Twitter feed will alert me to all volcanic activity all over the world (thank you @VolcanoAlert) and, helpfully, make sure I never run short of horse eye candy (wink wink @DonastheHorse), I am probably a little too ignorant of the larger news items. Therefore, I have begun seriously looking into the news reading a few headlines. Unfortunately, the news is depressing and boring (the new Congress just isn't interesting, ever), so here are the news updates from our house.

There has been a terrible Lego revolution. It has been very French. So. Many. Beheadings. One

Monday, January 5, 2015

A New Year

The white light of a full moon is rising, all film noir, behind my window blinds. I have no idea what moon it is. January's moon. I will probably Google it.

I did.

It's the wolf moon. The first full moon of the year. The first cycle of light in the darkness of the year. The quiet season full of night and frost.

And hope. I guess. We, as a people, hope that this year we will accomplish the secret dreams we ordinarily keep swathed under grave clothes of reality. We join the gym, challenge ourselves to read forty books this year (true story), promise to drink more water and eat less of whatever is evil this