Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
I thought I would post here for no particular reason. It's a day off from heavy blog entries. Summer is not my favorite season. I don't like the heat. I don't like smoke or dust. I get worn out and moody. I seek dark cool places ... like a closet. Of all the summer months, August is my nemesis. Nothing to do but sweat and swelter. Not my idea of fun. However, August is fine in Costa Rica and the best time to go to Geneva. All I want to do is nap. So what did I do today? Overslept (makes me groggy). A breezy but pleasant 85 degrees with an AQI of 61 at 2 pm. The sky is blue-ish and I can see the mountains. The river is clearing up too. No word as to why it was muddy. Saw Margi and Nathan and Chase. Been years. At market. Got sheep curds from Emma, a cherry-almond scone from Irina. A bag of cherries. A spinach pocket from Mohammed. Chatted with Athena (from Greece) and Maria. Celebrated by writing a letter on cork while I downed a cherry-chocolate milkshake at Butterfly Herbs. But... didn't have my address book with me. So... who should I send it to? And that's it for the day. Future blog ideas (of the heavy variety): A. Are we still fighting the Old Testament Wars? B. Baha'i Values 101. What you need to know. C. Circumcision. FGM? MGM? Is it necessary religiously or otherwise? D. Donald still wants to be Emperor. Is that treasonous? E. Eeyore. Can we accept the depressed without demanding that they be cheerful? Which would you like to see me respond to? Vote! Like painted kites those days and nights, they went flyin' by. The world was new beneath a blue—umbrella sky Then softer than—a piper man One day—it called to you I lost you—I lost you to the summer wind. ~325 words Posted in "Blogville " 57.652 |