Distractions

Getting the household denizens back into the usual routine, after a disruption; they seem to get somewhat flustered, but adjust in time. Back to the climbing joint, and it felt wonderful to stretch out and work on the problems.
Still going along with Patrick White's novel Voss; had a hiatus while reading Robbe-Grillet's The Voyeur. The latter grew on me, although I don't know quite what I'll say by way of discussion.
Fresh halibut for dinner, and an evening walk rounds us out.

Somewhat baked, with sand

It was swell in South Carolina, at the condos by the sea on what used to be a rice plantation. The temperatures were in the mid to high 70's, the breezes were dulcit, mostly, and we avoided getting terribly toasted, at least by the sun. Long walks on the beach, bike rides on rental beaters, plenty of seafood and nobody threw anything at anyone; not bad for a family reunion. We made what has become an annual pilgrimage to see the Bar Bird at the Big Tuna Raw Bar in Georgetown; her name is Sassy, and her owner told me he'd gotten her when she was eight days old and not likely to survive, so the breeder gave her to him. He fed her with an eye dropper. She's now a large beautiful scarlet macaw, illegal to procure these days. She's got a filthy vocabulary and likes to dance to Creedence Clearwater; a good ole country gal.
We had the opportunity to go down to the Hilton Head area to meet in the flesh a friend we'd only communicated with via the internets, and had a pleasant visit. It's an odd venture, I suppose, but after years of exchanges, you do feel as if you know them some how.

Dazing

Out for the count; we're going off to a family reunion in warmer climes. The cat has seen the duffel bags, and has begun his hunkering. We'll depart in chilly rain, and hope to get at least a few bits of sun at our destination.

Post full moon

It was John Muir Day today; I'll bet he would hate this world if he could see it now. Ironic that Earth Day is tomorrow.
Caught up with my very good friend and climbing accomplice, where else but at the gym. I'd heard from our friend who's a guide, who led us up the Grand Teton almost five years ago. For all kinds of life-generated reasons, we haven't had many adventures since, but still think we might...

Now you see it...

More snow that looked like tiny hail, or perhaps it was hail that resembled hard white snow pellets; our elderly family member is so shocked, it's difficult to accept the date. We luck out with a couple of good sunbreaks, and break the usual exercise into chapters.
Caught up with a friend I met at the climbing gym, whom I haven't seen for several months. Her daughters are huge, the twelve year old towering over both of us. We have to belay the girls, since they aren't old enough by gym rules to do it themsleves, but evidently the older girl learned in Yosemite last summer and is perfectly capable. The place is packed, owing to snowed-out expeditions. We don't have much time, but it's fun. This optimistic woman is heading into a new marriage, and feels like good things are finally happening to her, after years of getting out of a nightmarish relationship. May it be so.

Quests

Our resident nonegenarian likes little chocolate muffins for breakfast; strangely, although they've almost always been available at a nearby supermarket, the bakery manager there told me they've become wildly popular, and get cleaned out practically the moment they arrive. We went off in search of any suitable product, walking under a terribly threatening sky full of what looked like thunderclouds, probably full of hail. As they started hemmorhaging upon us, we took refuge in a cafe we used to visit in our personal days of yore, reknowned for its vegetarian menu. They had a postum latte listed, which I hadn't had since I was pregnant and very concerned about the effects of caffeine on my burgeoning baby. The drink went nicely with one of their seriously whole wheat cinnamon rolls, shared, and sustained us through the cold wind and spatterings we headed into to get home.
So we can sit around and whimper about this environment, or go out into it and whimper.

Where the hell are we?

It's been snowing off and on since about 2:00 this afternoon. The poor little fruit trees in our yard have snow-covered blossoms; the bees will have to don jackets and snowshoes to pollinate them.
Our systems are flummoxed. Meanwhile, the climbers have had gorgeous desert days, and said they had to put on sweatshirts when a couple of clouds passed over.
Good night for spaghetti...

Lawn hacking

Ah, the first mow of the year; of course it should have been done last weekend, but who wants to toil away when it's 78 degrees and fabulous walking weather? It's more important to take care of the old bodily temple. So it looked like an explosion in a healthfood store, like the blender top flew off during the production of wheatgrass; smelled like it also. Our friend the gardener gave me a pep talk, pointed out the relative short window of time we had in the weather, and the two of us made more progress on our unruly property.
After it got chilly again in the evening, what better to do than get a bite of sushi? (You can actually get warm food in a sushi joint). A couple of our son's good friends were there, so we had a jolly little reunion.

We've all had enough

Just about warm enough for a few neighbors to venture out; we saw a young dad and his baby boy, who is almost a year old. Another young dad with them commented that this was the worst winter he'd had in his whole life in this area. My mom pulls up the hood on her fleece hoody, underneath her winter coat, makes sure her gloves are snug. Spring in Siberia.
I'm really appreciating the Joseph Roth short works; even as a twenty-something, he had a sharp witty style.

Snow expected this weekend

Slushball Earth is in progress; woolly mammoths shall return. Wobbly day at the rock here. Best thing to do is wash the blinds, maintain equilibrium as best we can. Wouldn't it be swell to get relief from guys in colorful robes...

Good grief

So much crap eminating from the Dems' candidates; they are playing into the GOP machine's filthy maw.
We're better off going off for a climbing session, driving through cold rain and hail.
Starting another writer along with Aussie Patrick White: the collected short fiction of Joseph Roth, an Eastern European, lived from 1894-1939.

Must have been a delusion...

Fairy dust, or smoke and mirrors; back to the drippy chill. Makes you want to crawl into bed with an absorbing book and start hibernating...

Did Prospero send this?

Such a dreamy almost hot day, it seemed conjured; our resident nonegenarian was inspired to her longest walk of the season, and when we walked later, it looked as if all of Seattle had been let out of dungeons and caves to squint up at the sky.
Central American food at a watering hole we like; the bar was steamy in atmosphere, you could imagine being in Mexico and not being afraid to have ice in your beverage.

Dali shmali

Guess I'm kind of down on Mr. Lama because of his religious boilerplate about homosexuals, and even any kind of lovemaking between straight folks that doesn't lead to reproduction; he's an Eastern brand of pope. My hope for a religious figure who was thoroughly and unhypocritically compassionate has been throttled in its infancy. I have appreciated many of the DL's statements, but they don't go far enough to aply to all the humans stranded on this poor little planet. I think, too, that any time people get all swoony and nuts over some supposedly holy or wonderful individual, all kinds of red flags need to fly.

Dental drama

Again with the routine trip for cleaning, and the trepidation and literal foot-dragging; the promise of a truffle or two afterwards seemed to help. Found some blue corn posole to cook up at the Asian supermarket, in a section full of items from New Mexico. I don't think I've seen posole anywhere else.
Checked out a new shop near the dentist's office, full of unusual Asian items. A Japanese-American woman about my age was talking with the woman owner about some kind of event commemorating the Japanese-American internment during WWII. The building we were in was originally owned by such a family, don't know if they regained it. There has not been a good deal of acknowledgement of this terrible time around here, oddly enough for such a progressively conscienced place. Maybe the progressive part has only been rising lately, come to think about it.

Two-a-days

Couple of sessions climbing today, mainly because I promised a new young friend to accompany her as she didn't know anyone at the new venue. I will pay for this tomorrow, but it was good fun.

Chilled out

Might be the gray skies and wind that make my mom lack energy. Or maybe just the vagueries of aging; we live in the present more, and yet it isn't retained. All bets are off.

See sawing

And fainting in coils, or nearly; off on a round of book acquisition, finding a collection of short stories by Joseph Roth, The War of the Newts by Karel Capel, and Darkness at Noon by Arthur Koestler, which I think I read a long time ago but don't recall. The first choice for this particluar book bunch is Kafka's The Trial, but I don't want to re-read that one. The tie-in is Eastern European writers. According to a travel show we saw recently, I should be downing vodka as I consume these works.
Found Le Voyeur by Robbe - Grillet for the other group. Will try to steep myself in an existential ambiance for that one.

Oatmeal and good cheer

Nothing like a heaping bowl of Bob's Red Mill Scottish Oatmeal on a cold spring day; then off to the climbing gym with a very good friend, where after a great night's sleep and all that steaming cereal, I felt as if I could have climbed K2 in a day. So much energy left over, I ran and lifted weights later on, after a very good elderwalk.
Marching forward in Voss; it is hinting at darkness ahead.

Molasses in April

A slow day, with glitches; the increments of decline are wearing. Done with Borges, essays too larded with philosophy and religion, seemed outmoded and pompous. I did like his flights into irreality, as he called it.
On to another novel by Australian writer Patrick White called Voss.

Agrodulce

So happy this morning to connect with our beloved offspring, freshly away on his road trip; he and his girlfriend are safe, having a good time, and soon to be in Joshua Tree. It's horribly cold and rainy up here, and summery warm down there. That's enough to justify bliss in my book.

Iffy

Hard to fathom the workings of human consciousness, even under the so-called best of circumstances; when you throw in age, wear and tear, and mysterious dwindlings, trying to figure out why someone is "off" can be nearly impossible. Apply Hair Do Day and repeat.
Finished the Auster New York trilogy; decided his touted "genius" wasn't.

Absolutely cloudlessly fabulous

A day to make you wander off course, from local errands to farther afield, just for the walking; maple butter supplies were low, and organic items were needed.
Out for a walk after dinner, and it got cold, but was a perfect night.

HA ha!

No fools around here; we're too canny to get taken in. My mom and I were recalling pranks that my dad pulled over the years. Nothing vicious, just silly. We figured his spirit hovers around, and I wish I could direct it to get some people for me. Invisible pie hurling, that sort of thing.
Once again I'm getting over-Borges'ed, so have flitted to a collection of three novellas by some one named Paul Auster. Not sure I care for his stuff, we'll see.
Terrific evening walk in - dare I say it - lovely cool weather.