Tuesday, June 30, 2009

last bit

I'm leaving in an hour to head up to Idaho. We're going on an "epic" (?whoknowswhatitwillbe?) bike trip. If I happen to survive, I will, of course, write about it.

I'm more scared for this than I was for my half ironman.

in other news

Andrew just always has the greatest stuff or finds the greatest stuff, no? He's the best brother besides Josh that I could ever have.

Andrew followed the game-cast Sunday of the Confederation Cup final. During a lull in the game, the updaters commented, "In other news, we now know why there are crop circles in poppy fields in Australia: stoned wallabies." Read about it here.


Andrew took the picture on my last post. He was whining that I hadn't given proper attribution. So there you have it.

Monday, June 29, 2009

to you

To you.
Merci, madame.
To you,
For you walked shoeless with a cane.

I walked with feet shod
When I saw your figure's outline facing me
From far away.
I squinted to zoom in on you somehow.
I had a question answered as my eyes strained:
Yes, she's barefoot--
Shoes in one hand, cane in the other.

You inspired me to take off my shoes.

Why hadn't I already?
I confused even myself,
As usually my shoes are the first release
I reward myself.

Shoeless in the house.
Bare feet in the grass.
Naked toes in the sand.

That's how I go.
So, again, why hadn't I already?

I was tired.
Didn't want to bend over.
The packed sand held no temptation;
Clouds allowed no sun warming effects.

But you were there,
Quite a way from me,
But still there.
There holding your shoes.

To you, thanks for spurring me
To hang my hands down to free my feet.
To let them feel the ocean's water.

I continued towards you.
We shared smiles as we crossed paths.
Both our feet bare.

I should have uttered merci,
But I felt I would shatter the magic.
Our smiles were enough.

Friday, June 26, 2009

call me obsessed, but i just can't get over her

I just bought Regina's album "Far." You can listen to her album here. It's grand. Happy Friday.

Hoping the rain will die down, so camping will be dry and sunny. Ironic, sort of...one year ago I camped at Blackhawk campground with my, unknown-as-yet, broken rib, and that's where we're campin' tonight. I suppose I'll have a sounder sleep without anything hampering deep breathing.

Laters and loves.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

regina on morning edition

She says, "If I could explain every word of this song, then I wouldn't have been very inspired when I wrote it. I would have been more crafty and intellectual. I would really hate it if I could call up Kafka or Hemingway or Salinger and any question I could throw at them they would have an answer. That's the magic when you read or hear something wonderful — there's no one that has all the answers."

Listen to her on NPR's Morning Edition here.

Image taken from here.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

story: bisous


Somewhere between Saint-Marcan and La Poultiere, France, we stayed at this bed and breakfast.

Our first night there we took a 20 minute walk up the road to this little place to eat some dinner.

This is what we ate: galettes (buckwheat crepes). I didn't know l'oeuf (egg), would come in such a raw form (it was barely barely cooked). You should be proud of me, though, for I was able to chew and swallow everything; the mushrooms made it bearable. But eggs don't have much to do with kisses, eh? So I'll continue with the story that came before our meal.

We'd ordered our galettes and were just sitting there, sipping on water and talking about the shells we'd found at St. Malo. While we sat round the table outside the bistrot, a girl ran up to the little playground facing us. I exchanged glances with a her. We also shared a few smiles. Her mom was across the street, likely getting the littlest out of the car. The girl ran back to her mom and returned with her toddler sister in tow. She kept looking over and smiling at us. She sat her sister on some sort of bouncy contraption. Then she picked up her sister and started toward us. She was probably five or six and she was holding her almost two year old sister. I thought she'd fall over at any moment for a lack of balance. She walked teeteringly towards our table. I thought she was going to reposition holding her sister by holding onto the side of our table. I thought wrongly. She offered up her cheek to me. I was surprised, for she hadn't even said a word. She simply turned her cheek to face me. So I clumsily gave her a little peck as she also puckered up her lips. Then she turned to make both sides even in the French bisous fashion. I chuckled and smiled and was even more surprised as she went on to offer both Natalya and Joshua kisses too. We were all chuckling and were so touched. This girl was so vivacious. Her mom must have seen what her daughter had done because she yelled at her to leave us alone. Too bad. I would have loved to see if she would have continued around the table to my mom, dad, and Andrew.

I sneaked a picture of her. It's not the best because I didn't want to be too voyeuristic. I pretended to be taking one of my beloved brother.

Here she is: the girl who gave us kisses and made us all smile.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Thursday, June 11, 2009

florence's cinderella

le 1 juin (parce que je suis en France maintenant)...

We walk back to the hotel from dinner. Rain has fallen all day. The bike lane sits to our left with a one-way lane for autos to its left. We have only a block or two more before we reach the hotel. A mother rides by, passing us, on her bicycle. A baby faces her in a seat behind the handlebars, and a young girl sits behind the mother's seat.

The girl riding caboose loses her purple shoe to a shallow puddle. Mama, Mama, she exclaims. They both look around but they've already travelled 15 yards away from the fallen shoe. The mom's cumbersome load inhibits her from quickly turning around to rescue the lost shoe.

I scoop up the shoe and run it up to the cute little girl. The mother thanks me profusely, Gratzi, gratzi. I reply, Preggo.

The happiest moment of my day. Grateful I am.