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Mutabilitie
(Really, why is Spenser in the Canon? A more lumpen poet I never read.)
My scale's battery has died only a few months after I changed it. Very disconcerting because I weigh myself every morning to remind me *why* I can't have pasta and cake and cookies. And because today was a rainy owie day, and a weekend, I couldn't get out to buy a new one. However rain let up in the afternoon so Boy Next Door got to have his birthday party in our mutual back yard. Happy shrieks of five year olds banging the pinata which had to be hung from the cherry tree in the sad absence of any other tree to hang it from. I do miss the plum tree and its evanescent fragrance, though for all I know it might have stopped producing blossoms and fallen over by now if we'd left it to its own devices.
Some odd tangent took me to Streetview where I discover that Markham St, currently and for at least the last three years a wasteland construction site, has been preserved in its 2017 glory because Streetview cars can't go up it. That is, in Streetview the chainlink fences are up on both sides of the street but the buildings, though empty, are still standing. Alas that there seems no way to capture that particular shot to remind me what was where; and once they've finished building their satanic towers the view will go.
Turned out the drawers of the study cabinet looking for Cohen's Ten New Songs and found it, along with a bunch of memorabilia last looked at in 2010. Meishi from Japan, people's addresses, maps of Tokyo restaurants. 'Guess I'll throw it all away...' And then Cohen sounds all different on the stereo than he did on the boombox and I'm gakkari all over again.
My scale's battery has died only a few months after I changed it. Very disconcerting because I weigh myself every morning to remind me *why* I can't have pasta and cake and cookies. And because today was a rainy owie day, and a weekend, I couldn't get out to buy a new one. However rain let up in the afternoon so Boy Next Door got to have his birthday party in our mutual back yard. Happy shrieks of five year olds banging the pinata which had to be hung from the cherry tree in the sad absence of any other tree to hang it from. I do miss the plum tree and its evanescent fragrance, though for all I know it might have stopped producing blossoms and fallen over by now if we'd left it to its own devices.
Some odd tangent took me to Streetview where I discover that Markham St, currently and for at least the last three years a wasteland construction site, has been preserved in its 2017 glory because Streetview cars can't go up it. That is, in Streetview the chainlink fences are up on both sides of the street but the buildings, though empty, are still standing. Alas that there seems no way to capture that particular shot to remind me what was where; and once they've finished building their satanic towers the view will go.
Turned out the drawers of the study cabinet looking for Cohen's Ten New Songs and found it, along with a bunch of memorabilia last looked at in 2010. Meishi from Japan, people's addresses, maps of Tokyo restaurants. 'Guess I'll throw it all away...' And then Cohen sounds all different on the stereo than he did on the boombox and I'm gakkari all over again.