Saturday, January 31, 2015

brown habit

THERES A NUN around town. She’s always getting coffee. Perhaps in her sisterly circles she’s renowned for her boundless compassion, but all I can say about her is that she definitely likes her coffee. I might even call her a coffee fiend. Of course, I’m usually getting coffee when I see her, so what does that say about me? I drink so much coffee you’d swear I was a nun.

Friday, January 30, 2015

springwatch


THESE LAST FEW DAYS have tasted like spring. Branches are budding. Birds are busy building nests. Yesterday was baby blue and one thin layer was enough to keep me warm, so I decided to serve an orange blossom green tea to my Peaceful Habits group, to call attention to and amplify that feeling of spring we were all tasting. I served a jasmine green as well. This year I’ve started using two small teapots instead of one large one, a small ceramic one and a small cast iron one. I received the teapots as gifts for Christmas, and I’m glad I did. Now I can serve two teas simultaneously. Now the group is more like a tea tasting.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

slippers



BRAINS DONT CREATE. This is the thought that popped into my head first thing this morning, stepping into my slippers. The thought wasnt a dream. I was definitely awake.

Monday, January 5, 2015

the cartography of thought


THERE’S A CARTOON floating around out there — a despondent Snow White, half-collapsed on the cottage floor, presses a wine bottle to her lips, two tears on her left cheek, three empty bottles beside her, her yellow petticoat forlornly rumpled.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

the cottage


WHEN THE COURVILLES, our next-door neighbors growing up, decided to move from Catahoula to Butte La Rose a few years ago, my parents bought their house and lot. Their initial idea was to sell it and have it moved elsewhere — my dad wanted to have a big garden in its place — but the house was too big to be moved in one piece, and chopping it in half and moving the two pieces elsewhere was too costly relative to what the house was worth. So my dad considered tearing it down and selling it for parts. He really wanted that big sunny garden there.