It’s like beautiful sometimes crisp sometimes torn sometimes painted jeans. Spectrums and cuts and loads of takes. But at their fiber basically made of the same thing.

The Youngest and I found ourselves today on the same day intentionally and by coincidence at an aerial ice/figure skating show and a roller derby bout. Both had a half time but one called it intermission. Both had us moving hard for our views and there were emcees and masks and strange elements at each but basically made of the same thing.

I do love the City and need what it has, but I’ve also had run-ins with dog owners, bicyclists and a Co-op worker. I’m OK with a lot of types of coffee.

I need the City.  But sometimes I just want to drive around or use both fire-pits. I like people but then also like myself without too many people. I live outside the line but pretty much follow the rules.  There are no sidewalks on our side walks. We are thankful for water and family.  Blackberries are an issue. I’m not an arborist but have cut limbs. County Folk.

 

The Loop.    Burn(s), chin-rashes, toe-munches, bruises, sweat and Class III.

Now I’m back and wearing pants/socks for the first time in 10 days.  But we’ve been to the lake and we drank some river and it all still lingers.  Memories linger.  Memories are like food. Memories are what we eat and they cook and ferment and sometimes rot and the very best age gracefully baking into stories.

 

 

 

The Violent Femmes & a Dad preparing for an  “are we there yet”  long drive to a day at the zoo in 80 degree weather followed by an outdoor concert with a real security line followed by a late night drive back,

they bring all their equipment on the bus/sedan.

 

 

 

 

It was a weird Monday right into a weird week. We ended up taking the longest way home.

 

fishing    –  —  —  —  —— 〉

we never seem to  catch much

but everything

Some disjointed guesses I’m trying to join→

There is no controlling what they remember,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I guess.

When you can feel or smell a long term memory being cooked in another it’s special.  Guess sometimes good-special sometimes bad-special.

And then you just stop and look straight at the beauty as long as you possibly can.  I’m guessing that’s a big chunk of the whole/my/our point anyway.

And then someone tells me beauty is in the eye of the beholder but then forgets to tell me how to be the holder.  They never even mention how to only hold what I want and let go of the rest.  They’re just guessing too I guess.

 

 

 

So now you know

instead of a thank you sometimes you receive a gift in return for a gift that is just maybe as powerful as the original gift.  The original gift was real big. But this is bigger because it has added on.  It’s a  super gift.  It couldn’t have existed even without the first gift or all the parties involved or the gift of time(ing).  But then it appears out of no/every-where and re-ups the whole thing.