this morning i enjoyed the weather. i wore my favorite windbreaker. the one with the upturned collar that makes me feel like i should be walking a great dane or dating sherlock. i wore it and i walked to the subway.
the wet ground & dry sky felt like homer, alaska.
waiting for the walk sign, i thought about school trips we used to take across the bay. i don't like stepping on seaweed, and always felt bad for the barnacles and mussels when the boys would go crunching.
barnacles in general – even when on the old logs, remind me of cysts and acne scars. nothing makes me more queasy than seeing barnacles on a whale. if i were a marine biologist, i would secretly scrape them off the whale. it can’t be beneficial to their complexion.

and then i realized no cars were coming, so i started walking again.

when i was in seattle for those few early northwest hours, i was jumpy. running lights, dodging people. what was i possibly in a hurry for. but still, i tapped my feet on curbs.
"there are no cars! what are these people waiting for! cross!”
hating the feeling of rush.
“just calm down you fool. you have like 6 hours to spend in the city. relax. walk around. have a seat. watch”
“whats going on here? is there a car i can’t see? why aren’t these people crossing the street???!?”
this went on until i decided to give in and follow the seattle groove and not jaywalk. i mean, it got so weird-feeling that i thought maybe they could see some semi on its way down some hill, and i was the fool.
but i was the fool. with all that rushing about.


back to this morning and it being a morning where i looked at grey sky number 88943, and thought about how comforting grey skies can be.
sometimes blue skies have no end – they are so open. its nice every once in a while to know that the clouds are hugging your little city & that you can only see whats in front of you.


9 hours later, i retreated the cloud-protected offce and realized that it had since snowed, i had lost my voice, and a 9 year old was waiting for me to pick her up from school. so i went to get the 9 year old. she was happy. glad to be out of school. we dodged puddles and took the local to 79.
once there, i saw the note:
"anise – broccoli in the steamer, chicken roast in the oven. turn steamer knob to 15, and oven to 175. let sit for about 20 minutes.
kisses,
darren"

he signed it kisses. i felt home-cooked.

so we started playing a hamster game.
i was sitting next to the stove. with the roasted chicken.
she said “anise can i have some chicken?” i said “sure!” stayed seated, opened the stove, pulled out the roasted chicken and plopped it down in front of her.

i thought it was amusing. like a nightmare from pleasantville or something. doug just stood there looking at me (probably because i felt like re-enacting the situation 3 more times), and robin unphased, asked for a fork.

and THAT was my highlight of my day.
~ “sure!” plop. (perfectly roasted chicken on table.) “can i have a fork?” ~

that and bill buying me a crab sandwich from yellas.