The three acts

2009-07-30T08:29:00.000-07:00

Best Breakfast Pancakes

2 cups flour (whole wheat is best)

1 T. baking powder

1 pinch salt

2 cups milk

1/2 cup safflower (or canola) oil

3 eggs

2 T. honey

Mix dry ingredients together, add milk, oil, eggs, honey. Stir with a whisk until liquid is smooth. Cook on griddle (or frying pan) heated to 350 degrees.

2009-07-29T15:11:00.000-07:00

2009-07-28T16:47:00.000-07:00

Parker played with five friends today at a place designed for the imagination of children. Nostalgia washed like a wave as I remembered the day years ago my grandparents took me somewhere similar. A small neighborhood market stocked with plastic bananas and rubber-handled child-sized shopping baskets took me back to the day I'd been found felicitously ringing up similar manufactured produce and miniature cardboard cereal boxes with my older sister in another place, another time. The kids played for hours in a cafe, hospital, ambulance, synagogue, book store, park, and music studio all kid-sized. Heidi, her sisters, and I talked of college education and career plans made once and altered since, self-help books, and pop culture's current most popular literature. Art class begun at 3:00. Project 'Packing Peanuts' entailed brushing styrofoam pieces with marker-tainted (in Luke and Alexis's case) or fresh water and then sticking them to paper or each other. Parker lasted about three minutes. The museum had begun to empty out and it was time to say 'good-bye'. We left and finished the raspberries and blueberries from lunch on the way home. Parker fell asleep not long after and I set to work on a writing project. Another day, another play date.

2008-07-18T20:57:00.000-07:00

I ate my Pink Lady on the beach today. It was overcast, humid and a touch chilly and the apple with its crisp bite was perfect. There were not many people on the shore, those who had come were mostly surfers and beach strollers. The tide was high and the waves washed cleanly, in such a way that surfers expert and novice caught them easily and many washed over and over into shore. Parker stood down at the water's edge and his laughter as the waves crested over his feet and calves held in the dense air. Ryan stood with him, holding him up as the waves came and went, letting him feel the drag of the undertow by setting his legs into the retreating waves and allowing them to pull at his ankles. Ryan turned to me and smiled a laughing smile at Parker's exhilaration and I laughed back. My apple was almost finished but what remained I left on the paper towel I'd brought it wrapped in, jumped from the big blue beach towel and, digging my heels into the sand, gave into their invitations.

2008-07-01T14:24:00.000-07:00

A Summer Afternoon and 'The Stranger'

The sliver of sky I could see out the window took me with its beauty. A blaring blue sky beyond the summer green and muted brown of the tree branches that filled the space. The wind made the leaves and branches dance amidst each other for a alluring effect. I closed my eyes and just listened to the soft sound of their dance.

A yawn came and I let my head drop with closed eyes. I picked up my head again and took up my book off my chest. I liked reading Camus while listening to the sounds outside on the street. A woman's heels clip-chipping on the sidewalk and the mailman's keys from downstairs opening and closing the metal slats to our mailboxes. An occasional car drove by with a whir and there was some metal tapping for a long while, which eventually stopped. After a few pages I went into the kitchen for a piece of chocolate, dark is my favorite. There was one small piece of the bar left and I took it back into the living room after trashing the wrapper.

The chocolate was sweet and left a slightly bitter aftertaste, just like I like. I went back to my book and read for awhile, then stopped to write a few notes of my own while still ruminating over Camus' straight-forward tone and detailed description.

2008-06-14T16:14:00.000-07:00

Some Simple Measures in the American Idiom and the Variable Foot

IV: The Blue Jay

by William Carlos Williams

It crouched

just before the take-off

caught

in the cinematograph--

in motion

of the mind wings

just set to spread a

flash a

blue curse

a memory of you

my friend

shrieked at me

--serving art

as usual