The weather has cooled considerably, resulting in a beautiful layer of morning fog. As I drove to work this morning, the views along the highway were all softened by the cottony clouds. I love this kind of morning, when everything seems distant and loses its edge. The fog comes
When I was a little girl, I learned this poem by Carl Sanburg and I tend to recite it each time I see fog across the landscape. (My nerdiness didn’t happen over night, it was nurtured even in my wee years.)
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
I attempted to photograph the fog this morning, but couldn’t do it justice. Maybe this poem will help you imagine its appearance. All I can come up with is “soft”.
Vacation. . . happy to get away
In a little over 32 hours I will be on my way to a
mini-vacation, tent and cooler in tow. I am so ready to be away that I have in fact been packed since Sunday. Travel allows us obsessive-compulsive sorts to have a hey-day. Packing and unpacking. List after list. We live for this stuff.I can already hear the rustling of leaves and the pitter patter of raccoons hoping for a stray graham cracker.
I can smell the remnants of the previous night's fire and someone preparing coffee nearby.
I am ready!
Paying at the pump
The big news here is gas prices. In most places it’s topping $3 a gallon and that’s tough for all of us to take. My understanding is that this will continue to increase and could reach $3.50 for quite some time. I don't like the sound of that at all.
Natural gas prices are sure to follow, so expect to see Cynical decked out in hats, glove and wool socks INSIDE our house this winter.
Rock Star: INXS
Summarizing it AGAIN
I had written my whole take on Rock Star: INXS from last night, but the blog monster ate it, so I am going to try to re-type my thoughts in a shortened form:
Bye, bye Ty.
Lordis, Jordis, get it together.
JD, save the drama for your mama.
Marty, Marty, Marty, love the eyeliner.
Mig, you're gonna win, calm down.
3 comments:
I love that poem. I used to go to the Carl Sandburg house when I lived in NC. Surely the only kid to go there of their own accord (not dragged by parents or field trip). My training has been long as well.
I was wondering about the bags.
I am so jealous that you've been there. I tried to "encourage" Cynical and my bros to go there with me, but no luck.
We play silly games and give away prizes and it's so much fun that we do it over and over and over again.
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