What's your name?
Where are your kids?
Do you have a husband?
Can you tighten my goggles?
Wanna see my towel?
Did you bring any snacks?
Can you loosen my goggles?
Do you want to watch me go down the slide?
Can you take me down the slide?
Do you have any pool toys?
Are you over 18?
Do you know you have a big butt?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Sunday, June 07, 2009
gardens and friends and cars
I am building gardens:
On all sides of my house. I'm turning over dirt and planting all sorts of green things --things I don't even know the names of-- and watching them grow and vine and climb and burst. I don't live on a farm anymore, so most nights, I just walk the back 40 (yards)of the lawn and do a survey. Drive by any night at about 10 pm and you'll most likely find me on the front sidewalk, hands on hips, looking things over. I used to walk the scoria road that looped through the farm; now I walk cracked driveways. The feeling, though, is the same.
I am making new friends:
And I like it a lot.
I am buying a new car:
Most days, I hate my car because it's just one thing after another. Minor, tiny things, mostly, but after putting in a new windshield 10 months ago, do I really want to put in another one because of a semi and a thrown rock? And usually, some light burns out. And when it rains, my car squeals. And on the second Thursday of every 30-dayed month, my car probably needs new sparkplugs. I shouldn't be so hard on it, as it's taken me out of one rocky relationship and into a gentler one, driven me through the bulk of the Midwestern states, and has had my entire life packed into it more than once. But, I want something newer and better and different. It may be a red car. Inferno red.
I am walking home for dinner:
See you.
On all sides of my house. I'm turning over dirt and planting all sorts of green things --things I don't even know the names of-- and watching them grow and vine and climb and burst. I don't live on a farm anymore, so most nights, I just walk the back 40 (yards)of the lawn and do a survey. Drive by any night at about 10 pm and you'll most likely find me on the front sidewalk, hands on hips, looking things over. I used to walk the scoria road that looped through the farm; now I walk cracked driveways. The feeling, though, is the same.
I am making new friends:
And I like it a lot.
I am buying a new car:
Most days, I hate my car because it's just one thing after another. Minor, tiny things, mostly, but after putting in a new windshield 10 months ago, do I really want to put in another one because of a semi and a thrown rock? And usually, some light burns out. And when it rains, my car squeals. And on the second Thursday of every 30-dayed month, my car probably needs new sparkplugs. I shouldn't be so hard on it, as it's taken me out of one rocky relationship and into a gentler one, driven me through the bulk of the Midwestern states, and has had my entire life packed into it more than once. But, I want something newer and better and different. It may be a red car. Inferno red.
I am walking home for dinner:
See you.
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