Anton and Maddog's birthdays today. Texted them both from afar.
Yesterday got MJ to bury her sparrowy elbows into my shoulders and stiff neck which gave rise to the idea that I should get a massage. Went off to a place called The Emerald Door where I was relieved of $90 and a good deal of stress. Had a deep tissue massage and enjoyed the dissonance of the therapist asking me if I played baseball in her forthright New York accent amid the sandalwood fumes and new age wave music. But when I was collected by MJ and the bairns I was so relaxed I could hardly speak.
In the afternoon off to The Shack and ate a burgery chicken thing under the trees by the side of the road. Driving there Kate and I played I spy for a bit, which was good as I have been afflicted with a mysterious invisibility until that point.
After we dropped the kids off with their father we spent the evening looking at costume rings to put on MJ's finger till we can get another diamond, none fit however apart from one in the children's section.
Later we went to see a horror film called Skeleton Key which had me shifting uncomfortably once or twice. MJ however won a Top Cat and what may have been huckleberry Hound (which MJ says is called Droopy Dog) from one of those snatchy crane games before the show.
Today, Friday, MJ's back was terrible, but she received a birthday voucher for a free chiropractor visit through the mail and used this. We are reflecting one another's afflictions.
Reading MJ's poetry books today. One I liked was by a woman with native American influences called She had some horses by Joy Harjo.
The pseuds corner style blurb on the back made me want to laugh out loud.
However some of the poetry inside was really good. Fresh and direct. I liked this from Skeleton of Winter a lot:
These winter days
I've remained silent
as a whiteman's watch
keeping time
an old bone
empty as a fish skeleton
at low tide.
It is almost too dark
for vision
these ebony mornings
but there is still memory
the other-sight
and I still see.
In the evening I went to Main Street bar to meet Chris, the children's father. He didn't show up. I enjoyed being there, however, and was talked to in a friendly way by some of the locals.
Then home to play scrabble with Jack and MJ. MJ replaced by a highly-competitive being bent on destroying the opposition, and who had the gall to challenge the veracity of my words. Fortunately I thrashed all comers. This burned MJ so we had to stay up late and yawning until she fluked a win.
Yesterday got MJ to bury her sparrowy elbows into my shoulders and stiff neck which gave rise to the idea that I should get a massage. Went off to a place called The Emerald Door where I was relieved of $90 and a good deal of stress. Had a deep tissue massage and enjoyed the dissonance of the therapist asking me if I played baseball in her forthright New York accent amid the sandalwood fumes and new age wave music. But when I was collected by MJ and the bairns I was so relaxed I could hardly speak.
In the afternoon off to The Shack and ate a burgery chicken thing under the trees by the side of the road. Driving there Kate and I played I spy for a bit, which was good as I have been afflicted with a mysterious invisibility until that point.
After we dropped the kids off with their father we spent the evening looking at costume rings to put on MJ's finger till we can get another diamond, none fit however apart from one in the children's section.
Later we went to see a horror film called Skeleton Key which had me shifting uncomfortably once or twice. MJ however won a Top Cat and what may have been huckleberry Hound (which MJ says is called Droopy Dog) from one of those snatchy crane games before the show.
Today, Friday, MJ's back was terrible, but she received a birthday voucher for a free chiropractor visit through the mail and used this. We are reflecting one another's afflictions.
Reading MJ's poetry books today. One I liked was by a woman with native American influences called She had some horses by Joy Harjo.
The pseuds corner style blurb on the back made me want to laugh out loud.
This is not a book. It is an opening into woman light, into hatching, into awakening... Who touches this book touches a woman. etc.
However some of the poetry inside was really good. Fresh and direct. I liked this from Skeleton of Winter a lot:
These winter days
I've remained silent
as a whiteman's watch
keeping time
an old bone
empty as a fish skeleton
at low tide.
It is almost too dark
for vision
these ebony mornings
but there is still memory
the other-sight
and I still see.
In the evening I went to Main Street bar to meet Chris, the children's father. He didn't show up. I enjoyed being there, however, and was talked to in a friendly way by some of the locals.
Then home to play scrabble with Jack and MJ. MJ replaced by a highly-competitive being bent on destroying the opposition, and who had the gall to challenge the veracity of my words. Fortunately I thrashed all comers. This burned MJ so we had to stay up late and yawning until she fluked a win.
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