It's October & New Nike Bowl
Woke up this morning to rain on the roof. It's nice to just lay in bed and listen to this. And then get up even though you know you don't have to. Do the dishes with a soapy sponge and hot water. Clean the countertops until they shine. Then a poached egg with toast, butter, strawberry jelly. Nothing special. Just started a new book: Travels With Charley by John Steinbeck (thanks Dave). It's autobiographical. Says he: "I've lived in good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate. I'd like to see how long an Araoostook County [Maine] man can stand Florida. I wonder if ... sitting on a nylon-and-aluminum chair out on a changelessly green lawn slapping mosquitos in the evening of a Florida October—I do wonder if the stab of memory doesn't strike him high in the stomach just below the ribs where it hurts. And in the humid ever-summer I dare his picturing mind not to go back to the shout of color, to the clean rasp of frosty air, to the smell of pine wood burning and the caressing warmth of kitchens. For how can one know color in perpetual green, and what good is warmth without cold to give it sweetness?"
It's nice, and true, I dare say.
In other news, the boys are down at Nike park building a new bowl. Looks fun, no? Sawdust everywhere, and empty bottles of gatorade. One Slayer CD is getting them through the whole project, it seems. Oh, look at Lance in his new tool belt. Tradesman chic.
two day mom
I just mapquested it. My mom lives 1,184 miles away from me. A little too far for a quick lunch or a walk in the woods or an afternoon of gardening. So she came to visit for the weekend and we did all of these things. Now she's gone, and yeah, already, I miss my mom.
happy day
Yesterday was my birthday. We cooked a huge Mexican feast and everyone came over. We hung around in the yard and were all very tipsy. Sasha made horchata with rum, and when all was said and done there were, like, a hundred empty beer cans with lime wedges perched on the rim. It was fabulous. Thanks everyone!!
I'm pretty sure we used every dish in the house. So awesome.
And a birthday gift to myself, or to the household, really. A vintage GMC Sierra, made in 1977—the same year I was born. Look at that thing! Baby we just get better with age, don't we?
Le Noise
True story: it's like Florida out there right now. Hot and steamy. Poor me—I already dis-installed my window-AC unit for the winter. And how about the cats? They seem pretty bummed on their fur suits right now.
Another true story: last night, I left the stuffy bedroom and tried to sleep on the somewhat cooler couch. There I was spooning the cushions, when amidst my slumber I turned over—just like I do about a billion times per night in bed. However, I was not in bed. And so I fell like a sack'a potatoes to the floor, left elbow landing first, then the rest of the package, all 120 pounds of me. Not light as a feather. Heavyweight. The sound of it woke up Lance, who rushed into the living room to find me befuddled and in pain. How dumb.
Anyway, despite all this, I'm working through the long hours of the workday, tapping my feat, Neil Young's Le Noise, is on the player, and it's good. Just him on a stool with that old electric Gretsch guitar. Lots of feedback. A little bit rock, a little bit something else. It reminds me of the soundtrack he did for that Johnny Depp/Jim Jaramusch movie Dead Man. Intense, strange, smoldering.
Here, you can listen to it in its entirety at this link. According to NPR, "He only recorded [for Le Noise] on nights when there was a full moon." Spooky.