Archive for right now

wholesome

wake at 8, make waffles from Alice Waters’ “The Art of Simple Food.” put out some bananas and thawed raspberries and local syrup.

shower, go to church, Rosie to church school.

Rosie meets a friend downtown for homework time. Steve visits his brother. I buy pet food and two 50-foot-long leashes and take the dogs to a park to run around and explore.

Rosie and Steve dig two long trenches and plant bulbs. I accompany a friend to look at a house she’s thinking of buying.

I sort laundry and fold clothes and clean out two closets downstairs, plus I search through craigslist for any deals on baby items (found!). Steve and Rosie go to see a scary Halloween movie.

Steve makes homemade soup — pork, noodles, cheese broth, plus some Chinese spices. I continue looking on craigslist.

now Steve and I are going to watch a Netflix before sleep.

bulbs / 2bulbs / 3

right now

(I was thinking today that ‘right now’ is sort-of like a facebook status update or like a tweet, but without keeping to their character limit. Status updates are my favorite part of facebook, but I cannot get into anything called tweeting.)

- I am researching an alternative veterinarian in Ann Arbor. Moby eats really well, but his eyes sometimes look foggy to me. And Joon keeps getting yeast infections in her ears and I don’t want to give her any more antibiotics. Roxy will live forever.

- Laundry day, and Steve put in a load when I went to the acupuncturist, but I came home to find that my beautiful wool scarf was now felted. It’s okay, I’ll be okay without it, but it just looks so sad twisted and tight and irregular. Though it also looks extremely clean.

- I was just about to record another event happening right now, but I got interrupted by Steve who was apologizing again for ruining the scarf. Now he is online trying to find a replacement, which I already did briefly when I came home from acupuncture, but it is not even on sale anymore. It’s not a big deal, but in truth he has shrunk a whole lot of my sweaters and scarves, which is very easy to do. We clearly need a new system.

- My computer sounds like Arnold Schwarzenager, that’s what a friend said recently, because it’s whirring, working so hard.

- Because of the fertility drugs for the first time in my life I know what it’s like to be bloated. I never knew what that word meant. The acupuncturist put needles in particular points of my shins that are supposed to clear the bloating. And one point at the top of my head and one point in my forehead. Plus points in my feet that hurt my stomach they hurt to go in. I levitated.

- Steve just showed me a funny video on failblog.org. I do love that website when nothing else can make me laugh.

- In the studio today, I felt like an old lady painting dead flowers. It felt better to assemble my new scroll saw, which has taken me two days. I thought I tightened the bolts as best I could and then I bought a wrench. Amazing what a wrench does that my hands couldn’t! What felt tight to my hands was loose to a wrench, and somehow that was a miracle.

- Right now Moby is bugging the white cat and the more I yell at him the more his tail wags.

- The scarf is beside me here at the table, and it actually looks pretty right now, maybe it will just be a smaller, warmer scarf.

- I have to write this because I am being honest, but Moby just farted and I have heard him fart maybe one other time in my life.

- Steve is reading, drinking his tea. He keeps jumping up to get on the computer. His computer makes cricket sounds when he has mail.

- In the other room: the sound of the black cat coming through the cat door into the warm house.

right now, wednesday 9:28pm, 3/18/2009

- I am sad for Rosie. I cannot at this moment save her from two competing themes.

- I stir my tea which helps heat clear in the body, thus promoting fertility.

- I am interested in the contrast of wanting to bring one child into this world when the one we have needs a good retreat in the woods alone for at least a year.

- Energetically I am not supposed to wear diamonds until November 2009. After we found out the first round didn’t work, I put the diamonds back on. Today I took them off again.

- Rosie watched her father put a needle in my thigh after dinner (homemade broccoli and tofu in brown sauce). Actually she closed her eyes.

- Since the needle I have been weepy. I am sad for Natasha Richardson and her family.

- The drugs make my skin dry and suck the liquid out from around my bones (and seems to collect it around my stomach).

- Last night we went to the hospital at 2:00 a.m. for a scheduled MRI (it was the first available). We left at 4:00 a.m. and we slept until 11:00 a.m. For two hours I stayed in a tunnel where a voice through a speaker said ‘now don’t breathe’ and ‘for four minutes don’t swallow or move your mouth in any way.’ Sometimes I fell asleep, I think.

- I only want to watch a movie tonight if I can order out Thai food.

- I am in the market for a scroll saw for my studio.

- And also a letterpress. I am ready for one now.

- I am almost ready for a studio opening. Maybe in two months.

- Summer nights are filled with longing. I felt it bowl me over tonight in the car.

- Today we got raw milk out of the back of a truck.

- Steve is playing KEXP across from me here at the dining room table, he with his glass full of red and mine full of white.

right now

listening to antony and the johnson’s “epilepsy is dancing” (which i rigged to be my ringtone: call me on my beautiful iphone, do it) on repeat.

(epilepsy is dancing / she’s the christ now departing / and i’m finding my rhythm / as i twist in the snow.)

the black dog is in the hallway with his huge dog bed, which is naked, its fluffy part unzipped because this morning i sewed it for the third time — after he had gnawed a hole and an unlikely mint-green stuffing poured out. he has just come in to find another fluffy blanket and dragged it out to sit on.

the brown dog is with me in the bed, sleeping under the covers, her head sticking out, her eyes twitching.

i am sitting on the bed unable to turn my head to the right or left or look down. though i can look up. the pain is enough that i want to disappear, so i sleep. the reproductive doctors will not give me any more medication because they are worried, i presume, that i am a drug-addled hysteric.

the white cat is perched on steve’s dresser, staring at me but mostly staring at the brown dog to make sure that i don’t love it more than i love him.

the christmas quilt is still on our bed because it is just so warm, but it is sad in march to see it all the same. the curtains are drawn but to undraw them would mean pain. it is sad and dark in here.

steve spent the last two weeks tiling our laundry room in real slate, and it is truly gorgeous. we have not been able to wash our clothes for these two weeks. steve bought more underwear instead of washing them by hand or going to a laundromat. this morning he reassembled the washer and dryer, and now the house is filled with the whishing rumbling whirring sounds of progress.