December: four & five
December 5th, 2009
Welcome home.
Hazel loves Mario.
Snow!
On the go.
Posts about almost heaven
Welcome home.
December: one
December 1st, 2009
Morning: steel-cut oats & knitting.
Evening: the sun sinking behind the hills behind the trees.
“What is this weight on my mind?
And what is this new sense of time?
It’s the open fields and the friends that are gone…”
-Gillian Welch
The house on the hill
October 30th, 2006Such a good weekend. Today Camran said that if any of us could sell $300 in the last couple hours of work, he’d send us to Jamaica.
“I don’t care about Jamaica. Send me to West Virginia.”
“I’ll do that.”
Throw my heart out on the stones
July 24th, 2006
Iwant a baby, and other events of the weekend:
What does this mean?
June 27th, 2006Hand painted wooden sign by the side of Rt. 2, at the end of a gravel drive, messy white paint, no arrow:
water
6:30
Who wants to go? I don’t know what this means, but I want to find out.
My job is fabulous. I spent the whole day xeroxing, sorting, and filing pieces of paper. The whole day. With people that I know, and some that I don’t but already like anyway. Everyone felt very sorry for me, but they don’t know the hell that I have endured over the past three years at Panera Bread. Compared to those demanding, horrid, demonic coffee addicts that I had to deal with on a daily basis, one hundred and forty two papercuts are heaven.
