2017-05-08 - 6:34 p.m.
the day after day
we took the baby to the city, where our old neighborhood sits like a fly in amber as the university presses and oozes against morningside heights. bits of how we lived are now deliberately preserved, while other things yield to glass and steel and banks and chain pharmacies.
coffee. bookstores. a long and aimless walk in the park. the baby and i pass the time while papa attends a thesis defense.
if i had my life to live over again, i think i would do things differently.
* * *
finding is losing something else, wrote richard brautigan.
i think about, perhaps even mourn,
what i lost to find this.
* * *
reading: a book about egyptian animal mummies.
listening to: cake - frank sinatra.
working on: gosh, it is nearly impossible to get anything done with the baby. throughout the day, i make a list of all the things i need to do in the evening when my husband is home, but after i am through making dinner and cleaning up, i am too tired to do any of them.
in the garden: the backyard is finally dry enough to work the vegetable bed. i'll brag a bit, though - the front perennial bed is magical.