Last Night...

...I got home with a head full of things to post, I read my friends page, and it made me somewhat inexplicably sad, so I didn't post. The world seemed like it needed hugs, or at least you guys did.

This morning it doesn't feel like that so much, and so I'll speak.

Yesterday was a really, really long day for me. I was 'at work' for twelve hours, although there was a big hole in the middle for a long lunch with Juggler. That was nice - the lunch I mean.

I had to wait an hour for the bus home, so I did a lot of chatting on the phone, and I realised that my cell phone really is sorta necessary for my lifestyle. That is, without it, I would never talk to anyone. I almost never speak on the phone when I'm n a building, always when I'm in between.

The mission folk music festival is only two weeks away. That's scary-soon. Ellen, I was gonna call you last night, but it was late, and I know you work in the mornings.

Last night, my client gave me some really wonderful clothing. It's really awesome clothing. I need places to wear it. Chris has lately been doing these 'dress up in period clothing and play croquet in public' things, I may go to one of those (http://www.livejournal.com/users/brunisols/19522.html).

Oh, and the very important thing that happened yesterday: my two collars, from the Kynnin-and-Jan era, were found. I'm usually not a 'stuff' person, but these having been lost really sucked, and I feel really... soothed, I guess, where my soul is... to have them back. I don't even need to be wearing them, but having them in my posession is good.

Take care out there.

Greenie:

Enjoy it.

You're so good at stepping outside the moment and immersing yourself, totally, in the enjoyment of now. You're an extremist, but you're growing out of it. Try growing out of this enjoying now/functional-with-mind-in-the-future dichotomy. Don't let things like worry or anticipation make you unhappy, or pull you out of now. Remember where you are and enjoy the anticipation. Be comfortable with the idea that you have the luxury of worry. Stop every once in awhile and, without going totally nonfunctional, just enjoy yourself.

Weekend.

Sat AM: Farmer's Market
Sat PM/Evening: Juggler-date. Finomenal fish? Rattan-seeking? My bedroom? Collars? Movies? Iona park?
Sun early afternoon: Meg's party
Sun evening: Greenhouse-finishing, socialising, my family will be there, feel free to come by and eat rotisserie'd chicken (just let me know so I can make enough chicken) (this actually does mean you) (someone has to want to play Scrabble with my mom so I don't have to, and chess with my brother ditto)

Steinbeck, a conversation with his son:

Son: Did Willy go to heaven? [Willy was the dog.]
Steinbeck: I guess so.
Son: I saw him in heaven. But where was God?
Steinbeck: I don't know.
Son: Did you ever see God?
Steinbeck: Oh! Yes-- sometimes and often.
Son: What's he look like?
Steinbeck: You.
Son: Do dogs go to heaven?
Steinbeck: I don't know.
Son: Do they die like caterpillars and butterflies?
Steinbeck: Yes.
Son: I guess the sky falls down on them.
Steinbeck: That kind of describes it all right.
Son: When are you going to die?
Steinbeck: I don't know-- sometime.
Son: Soon?
Steinbeck: Maybe or maybe in a long time.
Son: When will you know?
Steinbeck: Never.

Steinbeck also wrote, in a letter:

And I remember my first story of doom. We read it in the first grade. It went:

Henny Penny was scratching under a pea-vine when a pea fell on her tail. 'Oh!' screamed Henny Penny-- 'the sky is falling.' Anyway she managed to get all the chickens so upset that they formed an army and bombed the hell out of a duckyard next door and the ducks opened up with high explosives and nearly everybody got killed and lived happily ever after. And when it was all over Henny Penny had the only pea left in the world so she started a pea cartel and right now her descendants own Manhattan Island and spend their winters in Cannes.

My Ratties...

...are the only beings in the world who actually *like* it when I sing to them. They line up and look at me happily at the edge of the cage.