Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Write about your ideal weekend. Not! Okay... why the hostility to this question? It assumes that I have a weekend. I don't. What about historically? When I was in school it meant not having to deal with the mean kids; it also meant being "alone" with family, not always fun either. I do have fond memories of rides in the country on weekends. In university it meant no classes. Since I had no money weekends weren't for having "fun". One nice memory was a road-trip to Yale in Connecticut. At the University of Kansas it meant football! And usually we lost. In Costa Rica it was a field trip to a park, a pepper farm, a volcano. It was painful at times being a part of that group, but I only skipped once. When I "worked" after university, my schedule was determined by others. Days off when I lived in Nebraska meant I could get in my Plymouth and visit Kansas and Missouri. Once I moved home... bad idea... weekends meant nothing... I had no money. When I got a full time job working nights I had a 4 day weekend every three weeks. I tried to catch up with things I could get done during the day. For the next 14 years I worked 9-5. So weekends? Probably my garden and other obligations. I try not to remember much about that time. I mostly block it out. The following period of full and semi homelessness meant I didn't have the means to do much of anything. When I was penniless it meant trying to find places that were open. Weekends and holidays were a challenge. I survived. Now? My life is boring from one day to the next. There's nothing special about weekends. But one can discern a general theme. Either I have money or I don't. Either I travel or I stay at home. I am not a party person. Now, I live in a university town that has a certain rhythm. Saturdays there is a market. I usually go but didn't yesterday. Too cold and damp and I was too out-of-sorts. Today? The sun is leaking through the clouds. It's 9º. I may... or may not... go for a walk. My ideal weekend = something to do, the money to do it, the energy to care. Today there is nothing I have to do, available to do or want to do. And I don't give a rat's ass. 101.932 |