22:08 p.m. Some days you bite off more than you can chew. Didn't you mother always say "Your eyes are bigger than your stomach?" What terrible mental images we carry around into adulthood. No wonder the Keane kids paintings are so popular.
The real clock is elsewhere. Buried under something for its own protection. I'm on the computer's time now. It's almost liberating, not knowing where to look for my measurements. Am I late or early?
Here's what I've found out today: the cable modem can be unplugged and turned off. The guys were wrong. They were nice and they were from Orange County, but they were wrong. Something about the Orange County service area requirements being different from the LA county ones. You know they knew what they were doing because they had a clipboard.
I'm coming down with something.
I like white walls.
You can't keep just keep eating red hots, nothing but red hots, for two, three days in a row without waking up in the middle of the night with your tongue the size of a salami. I tend to go overboard when I find something new. I almost killed myself on kumquats, especially easy to do in this strange city where the most incredible fruit grows on trees and hangs down just tempting you to try another, and another. I kept eating them until my lips looks like the red wax ones you used to be able to buy in a candy store.
I like small foods, and I especially like stuffed foods. There's not a ravioli or a dumpling or a perogie or a won ton or a tortolini that I haven't known and loved. Tonight, right before sundown, we had stuffed peppers. Igor tried to have a little of a lot of different kinds of food because now he will fast until sundown tomorrow.
Part of the time he will be in Temple. I usually go for the final services, the closing of the big book of life, the happy hugs and kisses as the ceremony ends. I've found that it's always a good idea to take along a roll of Lifesavers and sort of start to unwrap them, quietly in my pocket, before the last of the prayers. That way, when someone you love lunges at you for a kiss, you can lickity-quick offer him a candy and he will always take it because he's really really hungry and his breath! His breath from all that fasting is -- shocking.
But, as I said -- I'm coming down with something. I've got a thousand symptoms, none of them good. Could it be all the paint fumes? Probably. One of the cable guys had to take out his inhaler. I don't know. I'm pretty tough. How can the walls be toxic when they are so, so white? Hospital white.
Maybe it was something I ate?
email Street Mail Shadow Lawn Press archives
yesterday September tomorrow
all verbiage © Nancy Hayfield Birnes