welcome to poetry month
first, happy birthday 
ephemera! my battybrain. ^"^
pretty boys: *waltz*
so formal, these boys.
second, happy april fool's day and i have no pranks to share. i worked from home today so i don't even know if anyone did anything fun at work. apparently someone put one of those little blowup pools in the main library and filled it with cardboard ducks. rubber duckie standees.
and third, it's national poetry month! and you know what that means. :D (it means poetry. that's what it means.)
They have a daughter now. She loves us
as he and Elizabeth once loved us,
and as we still love them,
as we love all three of them now.
If there is one word a dog has the right to use
it is that one.
People pull their punches, refer to dogs' love
with words such as loyalty, obedience, or even submissiveness,
but it is love.
We take long naps in the mountain sun, now,
or try to, while the baby tugs on our ears,
covers us with leaves, grass, and dirt:
trampolines on our ribs, just to hear us grunt.
We all go for walks, each day, the five of us.
He plants trees. They both do, on special occasions:
birth-trees, birthday trees, anniversary trees -
Maple, apple, cherry, ash and lilacs;
Larch, ponderosa pine, spruce fir and cedar.
As we walk, he talks to Elizabeth about their daughter,
being thirty years old someday and seeing these trees he's
planted for her. He talks about how he'll be
sixty-five, then, and she, thirty, and how she can look at them,
knowing he planted them for her: how big they'll be, then.
He strides from tree to tree, looking up.
We will be thirty years gone, at the time of which
he speaks, casting his thoughts into the future, and sometimes,
as he walks and says these things, he forgets
to look down at us, looks only ahead and beyond.
When we sleep for good, I would like a tree.
I would like Ann to have a tree, too.
We can be side by side,
on one of the hills that we used to explore.
My tree will be bigger. I loved him more.
Ann is the one he picked first. But he came back for me.
--from The Odyssey, by Rick Bass
stuff i forgot to mention in my last post includes that last sunday was the last game of the curling season and WE WON OMG. it was a very close game until the last end when we got five and that was kind of it. it was nice to go out with a bang. this sunday is the open house and when i signed up and the signup form said "what hours can you be there" i thought it meant "give us a timeframe and we'll assign you a shift some time during that timeframe" when in reality it mean "give us a timeframe and we'll assign you that entire timeframe as a shift" so i'm going to be there for six hours. >.< from noon-6. on the ice, teaching people how to curl. which is fun! but maybe not for six hours. and it's my own fault.
i also forgot, when i was asking about band names, to ask about road trips. tell me about your road trips! the good, the bad, the what-the-fuck-were-we-thinking.
i'm 99.44% positive there was something else i wanted to share but now i don't remember what it was.
the 80s called and they want to decorate your house.
ephemera! my battybrain. ^"^
pretty boys: *waltz*
so formal, these boys.
second, happy april fool's day and i have no pranks to share. i worked from home today so i don't even know if anyone did anything fun at work. apparently someone put one of those little blowup pools in the main library and filled it with cardboard ducks. rubber duckie standees.
and third, it's national poetry month! and you know what that means. :D (it means poetry. that's what it means.)
They have a daughter now. She loves us
as he and Elizabeth once loved us,
and as we still love them,
as we love all three of them now.
If there is one word a dog has the right to use
it is that one.
People pull their punches, refer to dogs' love
with words such as loyalty, obedience, or even submissiveness,
but it is love.
We take long naps in the mountain sun, now,
or try to, while the baby tugs on our ears,
covers us with leaves, grass, and dirt:
trampolines on our ribs, just to hear us grunt.
We all go for walks, each day, the five of us.
He plants trees. They both do, on special occasions:
birth-trees, birthday trees, anniversary trees -
Maple, apple, cherry, ash and lilacs;
Larch, ponderosa pine, spruce fir and cedar.
As we walk, he talks to Elizabeth about their daughter,
being thirty years old someday and seeing these trees he's
planted for her. He talks about how he'll be
sixty-five, then, and she, thirty, and how she can look at them,
knowing he planted them for her: how big they'll be, then.
He strides from tree to tree, looking up.
We will be thirty years gone, at the time of which
he speaks, casting his thoughts into the future, and sometimes,
as he walks and says these things, he forgets
to look down at us, looks only ahead and beyond.
When we sleep for good, I would like a tree.
I would like Ann to have a tree, too.
We can be side by side,
on one of the hills that we used to explore.
My tree will be bigger. I loved him more.
Ann is the one he picked first. But he came back for me.
--from The Odyssey, by Rick Bass
stuff i forgot to mention in my last post includes that last sunday was the last game of the curling season and WE WON OMG. it was a very close game until the last end when we got five and that was kind of it. it was nice to go out with a bang. this sunday is the open house and when i signed up and the signup form said "what hours can you be there" i thought it meant "give us a timeframe and we'll assign you a shift some time during that timeframe" when in reality it mean "give us a timeframe and we'll assign you that entire timeframe as a shift" so i'm going to be there for six hours. >.< from noon-6. on the ice, teaching people how to curl. which is fun! but maybe not for six hours. and it's my own fault.
i also forgot, when i was asking about band names, to ask about road trips. tell me about your road trips! the good, the bad, the what-the-fuck-were-we-thinking.
i'm 99.44% positive there was something else i wanted to share but now i don't remember what it was.
the 80s called and they want to decorate your house.