Current: realized that I had written/painted the WRONG DIRECTION on my wall. That is what comes from middle-of-the-night “home improvement” —

The door, however, is slightly improved in its blueness.

The direction is ‘WEST’ – it has been corrected. White paint does wonders in the realm of quick fixes.

Re: Me and my big mouth


show details 7:43 PM (10 hours ago)

However, if I don’t have time to think it through. Hold a response in my head for a few minuteshoursdaysyears
Well, all the wrong things are said. Or the right things are said, but in the wrong way, or I say some thing – often some things – that should never be said…not because they aren’t true but because they are useless and critical and a waste of words.
——Original Message——
From: Me
To: Me
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: Me and my big mouth
Sent: Jan 25, 2010 5:08 PM

I left my phone at home today. No emailing myself! Which was not too unusual because I don’t usually talk to myself at work. Digitally or otherwise.

Work retreat today. Comfortable couches, comfortable people. And I forget sometimes that people can’t always tell if I’m joking or serious, or what. Especially if I’m comfortable.

Word to the wise: If I say things all 1/2 thunk and out-of-whack about something important. It just means that I consider you a true friend. That likely makes no sense at all. Consider it this way, comfort brings out the impetuous Faith – the quick to comment, good or bad.

I only comment sometimes because a comment occurs to me…”Hmmm, what might a person say in a situation like this?” …and then some outlandish thing pops into my head, some totally obnoxious response —
And then – oh my gosh – I’m saying it…

Dang. If I have a chance to think through things, I can figure out the right way to say what I mean, the appropriate tone and syntax. And I can say it beautifully.

Running pants…


show details 8:17 AM (22 hours ago)

Are awful.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Re: The scroll ball won’t scroll!


show details 6:31 PM (12 hours ago)

The pets have had their shopping done! What a small triumph: venturing to Tunnel Road at near-dark to purchase mealworms, buy cat litter. I also got some soothing sort of shampoos for Under and Gracie, who are illogically itchy.

Majorly rockin’ Saturday night. Bathing not just a dog, but a cat as well. Yes, that’s right. Bathing a cat.

It’s really okay, though. Driving home, I found myself racing the dark. I don’t see so well at night, yet all the lights make me nervous.

It is always so shocking to me: that people are awake once the sun goes down, driving and eating and drinking and, in mysterious droves, shopping?

What a weird thing to do. Go out at night and buy stuff. I have certainly shopped in the evening, tossed bags in the trunk, with little knowledge of what they may contain. But this sort of behavior is idiosyncratic within the context of my night-sleeping, non-shopping life. Some of the people I see though…well, they appear right at home in the aisles, calmly grazing.

Dang. We’re so weird.
——Original Message——
From: Me
To: Me
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: Re: The scroll ball won’t scroll!
Sent: Jan 23, 2010 1:58 PM

I’ve done nothing in the hugest way. Not a single errand has been erranded, not a single thing procurred. I think I might not be able to stand shopping. This is a good thing because it keeps my expenses down.

This is bad thing because the finch has got to be lonely and the rabbit is tired of bananas. The hamsters are delighted with crackers, but I’m sure crackers don’t remotely fill the complex nutritional needs of dwarf hamsters. Actually, they might. I’m not feeling real urgent about this purchase.

What I really need to do is some good old fashioned home maintenance. Painting, sweeping, slaughtering the chickens. Just kidding. Really though – if anyone has a dog inclined toward violence, I would welcome it into my yard. Okay. I’m kidding again. But, only sort of.

Something has got to be done about those chickens.
——Original Message——
From: Me
To: Me
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: The scroll ball won’t scroll!
Sent: Jan 23, 2010 10:46 AM

Crap. What will I do if I can’t email myself with my phone? Take notes on napkins? Scan them in?

This is such a workable way for me to remember what I need/want to do and also what I think about what I think about what I need/want to do.


Rabbit food
Hamster food
Perhaps 1 finch (a friend for our now solo)
I’ve got to do something about these chickens

Straight up bluegrass banjo

Paint the kitchen door cause it’s awful.

Running pants – awful. Children running – quite lovely.

Bathing the Cat


show details 8:22 PM (10 hours ago)

Was remarkably peaceful. Minimal meowing. No claws.

She actually seemed appreciative and pushed her little cat face into my arm.

Re: The Set Up


show details 12:28 AM (6 hours ago)

People need to feel connected to their work, their means of subsistence. If we are not connected – in a meaningful way – to the ways we stay alive within the contexts of whatever econo-culture has shaped our understanding of subsistence…well, what are we connected to? The frickin’ Internet, that’s what.

Dare I say that we’re all out of whack?

I try to be really happy to have dishes to wash. I like the indulgent hot water usage. The smell of soap. I feel lucky when I wash dishes.
Seriously. I have known a lot of people – old people, sick people, hurt people – who couldn’t was dishes or didn’t have have dishes to wash. Standing in my kitchen, washing food I cooked off of dishes well-used, no worries and relatively warm…it’s a lucky sort of thing to be able to do.

Laundry is still pretty much a never-ending suckfest. But, I guess I could apply some rose-tinted perspective to that as well.

Dang – it just occurred to me how privileged I am…not only do I have dishes, I have somehow learned to think of them as blessings.

Gag me with a well-washed spoon. But, seriously…

Who is to say
——Original Message——
From: Me
To: Me
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: The Set Up
Sent: Jan 23, 2010 11:05 PM

So, I fool myself all the time. Seriously. Fool. Myself.

Like tonight for example, I did not finish painting the door blue. But, I started. The laundry is not folded, but it is dry and clean. I did just enough to feel like I did enough. Minimums and beginnings are so hugely important in the process of feeling like I’ve done the daily well.

A quick sketch, a few self-circuitous emails, a home not quite improved – but, almost. At 9:30, I deemed enough to be enough and set the oven timer for an hour, only half intending to actually get up and continue the evening.

this NEVER works…well, n-e-v-e-r is a mighty strong word, so is a-l-w-a-y-s. This is a hint to one of my favorite p-o-e-m-s. Here’s a hint.

Repaying vileness with doves is a lovely, graceful notion.

Anyway, I fully expected to wake up at 4 am, calm and surprised. I often feel this way very early in the morning. “Oh, look. I’m awake. It’s all brand-new.” The world is a clean slate – a tabula rosa – in the hours before dawn. Everything is quiet and secret and I could be anywhere. It’s had to imagine war at 4 am…all the noise and brightness and bambambam of news is still asleep.

And if I failed the day before, in whatever small way…well, there is in every waking moment some chance for redemption. A glass carried downstairs, a cat bathed, a line drawn, a damp towel dried.

My great-grandmother is said to have said: “Life is wonderful, but it’s just so daily.”

And there seems to me to be a weariness in these words. When did we stop seeing the value of all these little actions that hold our lives together? We, menwomenall, are seriously alienated from our means of domesticity. It’s far to easy to keep ourselves alive these days. And the value of a simple job well done – the dishes washed, the laundry done, something drab made beautiful…we just don’t give ourselves much chance to be stoked about this stuff. New Theory: the more flawless our lives the more miserable we are…

I don’t think I’ll get a dishwasher. Every mug washed is a little triumph. I am generous with my sense of triumph.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Is there really anything to say?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s