Like, As In

I like the weight of the old Sharp remote in my hand, though I can no longer read the numbers. I like the hour of repose: five minutes worrying about that recognizeable car outside, five minutes talking to Kristianne about bee-stings, five minutes of talk about Five Angels Cafe, five minutes in the hallway with a Tim Snow painting, five minutes on Whitman with Tim McPeek. I like driving down dark Elmwood past lightless bikers and pididdle cop cars, to the last 15 minutes of the first day open of the Lexington Co-op in the new space. I like snapping the little buds from the basil plant when it is time. I like Lush's Karma Soap and how the room smells later when I return to it. I like beating and brushing my rugs from Petra on the clothesline after the rain. I like looking things up in my MLA Style Guide. I like the dog's love when she's happy to see me. I like hungry email, and to growl in response. I like the peaches ripening in the bowl on the table. I like the red African cloth on the couch.

I like the 13 year old recipe for tempeh fajitas in cumin-lime marinade (remember, Jonah?) and the leftovers, which I think I'll make now with some avocado and sour cream.

I like being happy.

Oh, how I love the rainy days and the happy way I feel inside...

Oh, it rained, at last. I have never known Don Paul to be so wrong for so long, but yes, sometime in the night, water began to topple from the sky and it went on into the morning, when I woke, smiling to hear it and then to the phone ringing at 8:04 AM (trans-atlantic phone calls are never denied, and make the morning almost as nicely as actual presence). I walked the dog in said rain, and did errands in it, and when it stopped I took my Petra rugs outside to be brushed & beaten. The apartment is clean and quiet. The birds sound freshly rinsed and happy--they have been singing all day long, and the cardinal keeps stopping on the wire outside the window to chirp enquiringly. What shall I say in reply?

Yes, it rained, at last. Isn't it good?

Not Much, You?

The weather is hot and humid and miserable.

But today, we are graced with thunderstorms.

I threw a party and only 3 people came.

But they were good company indeed, and we made art.

It seems many of my closest pals are out of town.

Emails and good wishes make things better.

There's nothing on the internet.

But I am on the internet! See pictures!

A Day After...

There are already almost 5,000 photos at Flickr with the tag "live8".

Watermelon Popsicle Rocks the Hot World

I am hooked on these. Watermelon, mango, coconut and even Cucumber Chile frozen treats made by Palapa Azul.

Live8

My cynicism reigns, but I am watching some of the Live8 coverage today, mostly on Canadian tv (and not MTV/VH1), between spates of painting the bathroom a pale blue. And I did add my name to the list, just in case a few million people are listened to by the 8 men who rule the world, after all.

I remember watching LiveAid on a stifling hot Saturday in a small blue-walled living room, in front of a fan, in Riverside. I thought Sir Bob was a hero. Now I'm not sure if he has a clue about politics and money at all. But I pray some change comes from this, even if I'm too jaded to envision it from this couch today, where I type with blue paint spots on my knees & on my inside-out Hampshire College sweatshirt.

***

Nice break earlier, rather more dressed up, taking dog to play at Days Park and to hang out on the Nietzsche's patio with some pals and a glass. Trefoyle and the Celtic Session went on as I felt guilty for missing the Inner Harbor Music Festival down on Ohio Street. I really wanted to make it there.

Mariah preferred the more intimate scene.