( s p a c e

t o

b r e a t h e )
.
.
.

-
Squirrel X wrote something that I feel is worth repeating: "...if you're able to credit just one sentence I write, let it be this : The soul is immortal and love never dies."

-
Holy Lord Almighty. After a lifetime of making crappy oatmeal, I just--now--made the most delicious bowl of oatmeal I have ever tasted in my life. Even people who 'don't like' oatmeal would want to eat this oatmeal. This oatmeal could save a nation. I feel... whole.

p.s. it involves vanilla soymilk and rhubarb syrup (but only a negligible amount of the latter).

Perhaps it helps that I have a great respect for the rhubarb syrup. It's liquidy and light in a way that simply radiates nobility; it's so very carefully homemade in such a very beautiful town; and it only has two ingredients.

-
Can anybody tell me the name and/or artist of the song with these lyrics?

"...little boy blue and the man in the moon,
when you comin' home son, I don't know when,
we'll get together then, for sure,
you know we'll have a good time then..."

I should know, but I don't.

-
Oh yeah, and I'm back from Alaska. Here are some pieces of my trip, my pasalubong to you:

.
long bodies of trees lying dead,
mossed over with time;
their broken stumps remain
as their only tombstones.

.
the ambassadors of the forest
on the edge of the trail
reach up to give us
high fives as we leave.

12:28 a.m. 2003-08-17�

previous - next

P. L. Random H. M.�

about this diary - in case you have some sort of issue
miscellany
making wings
links
notes

older
contact
dland