L'aura del Campo

Caleb came and Zmitri's on Pluto unable to call out.

My first quiz = 1,000 gps. I need to defrag my brain! Files are piled or missing or too dangerous to open. And Caleb Riley is Gary McPike's newborn son. Typical father ... couldn't remember which day! Terry took away my tomatoes, thank God. Just another boring day? Not.

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███████          L'aura del campo
███████          SUMMER: 5 'Asma (24 August)
███████          Weather outside: very warm and dry.
███████          Weather inside: changing from depressed to amused.

'é a lua,  é a lua,  na quintana dos mortos'          
~    Federico García Lorca

NEWS

Another son

Called Gare. Yep. Caleb Riley McPike was born July 11th. Daddy seemed happy, even if he couldn't quite remember the date. Suggested I ask his secretary Janice Jay. Which got us both laughing! Janice is a Polish Grandmother, all hugs and happiness oozing everywhere. I'm calling her just to confirm.

*phone call*

27 minutes later: Yep. Caleb has blue eyes and reddish hair and Janice got to hold him and all that and little Gary, who turned 4 on Sunday is the spitting image of his doting dad. I miss them all. Tremendously.

████████ Sizzling? Think cool !
████████ Temperature where I am: 95º at 8 in the evening.
████████ Weather where the McPike's reside: 68º.
████████ Weather in Bethel, Alaska: 54º.

IMAGES

Approaching Moody:

Willow and cottonwood; cattails ripening from green to brown to tan to soft white fur; white bindweed dressing up the pale green sedum with flowers; pink hibiscus; black dragonflies; one yellow flutterby; a grasshopper hitting metal; crickets.

Down Bullene:

Red cannas in the ditch, brightening up the weeds; pods dangling from the still blooming orange trumpetflower that clings to the telephone pole; bushes at the corner of a drive: mulberry, elm and sycamore; one white cabbage butterfly; a brown leaf falling from the cottonwood; naked ladies pink and pretty between the yucca spikes and black eyed susans; cleared lots and piles of dirt; dragonflies in black hovering over all like vultures on crack.

MY LIFE

Just did my first quiz! And it'll award the highest person on the list 1,000 gps! So take it and laugh along with the rest:

Invalid Item  This item number is not valid. #1148035 by Not Available.

Defragging the brain

I explained to Susan M. yesterday that my mind is like a computer that needs to be defragged. All the files are mixed and I can't open one without dealing with the dead mouse and bread crumbs that were supposed to be filed elsewhere.

I am what they call 'balanced brained'. I see the connections in everything. This sounds great until I tell you that it is miserable for me to focus on anything. Even in speaking English, a phrase or thought or paragraph needs to come out in Spanish, French or whatever. I'm at home when multiple languages are being spoken.

So my traumas are filed everywhere, ready to pop out at me no matter where I look. It's as if they migrate and find new homes in other seemingly unrelated files as well, but then my brain is set up with interconnecting links based on senses, words and memories. It means that I try not to visit the past. And I must be very careful about the present and dreams. They are all one to me sometimes.

Audra and Kit

I went to Thursday's Tea @ 3. And afterwards met Audra-of-the-red-hair from Emporia (think film and theatre ... Hamlet and Ophelia) and Kit from Manhatten (NY not KS) who studies history and film. I'd actually met both of them before. In this town, you meet someone once ...

Shared poems at Tea. Have changed the format from 2-sided folded 8x11 to one sided 8x14 broadsheet. For fun the guy at Kinkos did one as a negaive. The effect of white on black was stunning. So I got more. Shared with Richard L and Allyson B.

This sketch is from Saturday before I got overwhelmed and is another of the Zmitri series. Damn Zmitri, no cell phones where he's been hanging out. I suspect he's still on Pluto, but since that's been declared outside the calling area ...

POULTRY? YOU CALL THIS POULTRY?

Look!

The Milky Way is strewn with offspring,
cold semen across a colder sky.
There's no twinkle here where there's no air,
no atmosphere to hold emotions.
Yet, do remember that once we passed through there,
rough and randy, careless of what we spawned.
Before each dawn I speak to children
we dreamed across this starlit night. [163.312]

BLOGVILLE

Blogville News, hot off the press: "Invalid Entry" .

And go congratulate Nada on being Blogger-of-the-Month!

Generosity is amazing here at WDC. Someone just gave me a gps gift that had my jaw dropping. I swear they added an unintentional zero! So now I have twice as many gps as before and I don't need to worry about being generous in return.

As a child I hoarded my chocolate. As an adult I gave it away. I've been back to hoarding the last two years. I need to become generous once more.

Read some more blogs, but it is emmyloo who's got me in stitches at the moment from an e-mail comment, "Ya shore!" Can't escape those Skandihoovians.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

I like to think Pluto is sitting in a seedy bar somewhere right now with Joey Lawrence and Toni Basil, wondering where the hell it all went wrong.

from "Invalid Entry"  in the blog of emmyloo