Windchimes

nearly ambitionless, ambulatory

I didn't quite tie up all the loose ends to which I referred in the last entry. I can't seem to stick to my goal of keeping all sentences under 12 words, either. Maybe I should allow myself twenty. Maybe averaging twelve would be realistic. Maybe I should stop writing about how I write. Blah.

I am a sluggish lug this week.

Jeff, the teacher who gave me the book of Milosz poems, is spending most of the week at our local hospital, with his wife, who just had surgery. I went to visit yesterday, kept him company for a while. That's about the biggest project I've accomplished this week, unless you count warming up leftovers and making cheese biscuits for supper. I also had a sort of job interview today. Looks promising. More on that later...don't want to jinx it in any way. I also saw one of the other teachers from our office suite, Maren, who will be headed to Italy for a month in about a month.

I looked at the flower bed, decided I should weed it. I dunno, though. I like some of those weeds. There's quite a profusion of one certain kind that has these beautiful tufts of green that lighten toward the centers. It all looks quite junglish and I'm sure the neighbors would appreciate it if I worked on making the whole thing look more like a suburban flowerbed. There's also an oak sapling coming up right through my rosebush. Too close to the house for a tree. Lots of new growth on the rosebush though. It should look very well-dressed in about a month. Or maybe it will dress up the oak sapling. We should probably just till up the whole thing and start over, but I've got some lavender and the rosebush, some beebalm and lemonbalm. I think all the late frosts wreaked havoc with the hydrangea. Anyway, deciding I should weed it is as far as I got on that project.

At the moment, I'm just happy to have the supper dishes loaded in the dishwasher, that the cat hasn't made on the floor, and that I got a load of clothes folded.

101 weeds. 101 dalmations. Around the world in..., oops.

This Sunday is my birthday and it falls, as it does every once in a while, on Mother's Day, or when we celebrate Mother's Day in the States. Other countries have their Mother's Days and Fêtes de Mères (Méres?) on other Sundays, I know. My husband asked me what I want for my birthday. I hate that question, but I can think of some things this time. I want him to order my graduation pictures, and a nice frame for the picture and my diploma. I'd also like to get all our film developed, but that seems to be the eternal impossible dream for us. We so need a digital camera, but I would rather spend the money on getting the film developed first. And it will probably take about enough money to buy a digital camera if we get all those rolls to the developer.

Three healthily-sized paragraphs. That's it for now.

J.H. Larrew
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