Thursday, May 25, 2006
The first couple of years that I lived in Boulder, I lived in a (relatively) newer development on the south end of town. While the local landscape was lush and somewhat marshy (in fact, I think some was designated Open Space), the invasive plants hadn’t yet grabbed hold. So the first time I really smelled Russian Olive was on a camping trip to Moab over a Memorial Day weekend. The aroma was intoxicating, and is one of the most distinct memories I have of that trip. I didn’t know what it was at the time, I just knew that I couldn’t get enough.
Years passed, addresses changed over and over, and I finally wound up with an older apartment on some property that, if it wasn’t actually PLANTED with Russian Olive, had long ago been taken over by it. By then, I knew it was pretty as well redolent of early summer. Also, that it’s invasive and would handily choke out the native flora.
So now I know I’ll never plant it, and if I happen to discover it on any property I ever own, I’ll dutifully attempt to remove it. For now, I’m confined in the all-paved urb-burbs, with nary a plant in sight. Russian Olive doesn’t stand a chance out here.
Leaving work today, a breeze from the direction of the park’s irrigation canal brought with it the scent of Russian Olive. And I was immediately back in Moab, smiling.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
I went to watch the Denver Roller Dolls bout last night, and it was as entertaining as it sounds. Met new friends, saw great tattoos, enjoyed good conversation, bought the t-shirt. Got home late, woke up too damn early.
I have a showing today, which forces the laundry issue. Running out of underwear was also forcing the laundry issue, but I can always buy more to get me by. :) Anyway, a panicked frenzy of cleaning today (which always emphasizes just how too-large my place is for me) and I’ll likely be shopping for a new storm door whilst strangers poke around my place this afternoon. If’n this all works out and the strangers make an offer (no breath being held there), Reid says there’s a great place in his Cheeseman Park neighborhood that I should take a look at. That would be loverly. Also, the place in north Denver that I’ve had my cyber-eye on for months has dropped its price again. My first instinct is that something is wrong with it, but nothing is wrong with MY place and I’ve been on the market for 10 months!
Coincidentally, running a test to see how many peeps (who know me) catch the flaw in my profile photo. If you figure it out, message me – but don’t post your guesses where others can see.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
- The sweet, sweet nectar that is vanilla Coke is greatly diminished when consumed immediately following curry.
- Kevin Bacon is a fox.
- So is Harry Connick, Jr.
- Will & Grace, though I only watched it sporadically over the years, was a really good show.
- In the past week, four different people at work have told me that I’m appreciated. That’s incredibly nice, particularly during this review week when I’m feeling very “meets performance requirements.” I prefer to exceed. :)
Mix equal parts curry powder and prepared mustard (approx. 2 Tb of each) and rub all over a pork tenderloin. Grill for about 10 minutes per pound. Let sit before slicing. Serve with chutney. Yummers. Bet it’s good on chicken, too.
Currently listening :
Monday, May 08, 2006
Did I mention that I accidentally locked Rocket in a closet for 14 hours on Friday? I feel awful. She didn’t “soil” anything, but my clothes are a wreck and the carpet is trashed from her trying to dig her way out. Also, her paws are sore (from same, I suppose) and her face was swollen (from trying to push her way out through the gap in the door?). She’s been more inseparable than usual ever since.
I planted an artichoke yesterday. We’ll see what happens. I had gone to the garden center to buy a window box and some flowers for it (also accomplished, but not yet planted) and the artichoke looked so tempting. And, since it requires full sun and will therefore be on the front side of my house, the spikeyness (sp?) is attractive. Those who know of my tomato fiasco of last year will understand why.
I think of dear Tomi daily, but with the anniversary of his death drawing nearer, it seems more poignant. I think I’m angry that it’s been so long. Seven years in June. I still don’t have the answers I want, and I never will. I know that. And hate that. I’m all about answers. But I think I’m still waiting for a chance to say good-bye properly. I don’t know what that entails, exactly. Seeing him in person, I guess, which poses a metaphysical problem. Maybe I’d have better “closure” if I had been able to go to the funeral. Anyway, so I’m thinking about Tomi last night, and wondering how Ferenc and Maria are doing, and Gabe and the kids, just staring into space, listening to my fountain, and realizing that there are tears streaming down my face. (Where do tears come from? Where is this extra liquid hanging out until then?) Deciding that was no way to go to bed, I picked up a Sara Vowell book off my shelf to lighten my spirits. The first page of the first story I read is about her growing up in Bozeman. Dammit.
Another odd dream last night; this one about Chris’ wedding day. I wasn’t supposed to be there (of course) but he and I had been hanging out before Christine (in the dream, Lori) got home from work (even in the dream, it bothered me that they would get married on a Friday and she would go to work that day) so I had to scramble through the clothes I had left there (?? — including a pair of jeans I didn’t recognize, but knew by the 01 size that they were my sister’s) to try to find something vaguely appropriate while he rushed to make dessert pizzas that would fool her into thinking that he hadn’t been loafing around. Oh, and they had finally added a second floor to the house. It looked really good.
Is it a full moon or something?
9am meeting today, I’d best tootle along. Note: the best thing about buying clothes over the weekend is knowing exactly what you’ll be wearing on Monday. :)
Saturday, May 06, 2006
For those of you unfamiliar with Phish, the lyrics of the song, in their entirety, are:
When you’re there, I sleep lengthwise
And when you’re gone
I sleep diagonal in my bed
For some O/C reason, I do try to sleep lengthwise. But I wake up diagonally. Maybe it’s indicative of the path my life is taking. Currently less linear, and more, um, “out there” than I’ve been in a long time. I went out last night! And I’m going out again tonight! And perhaps on Sunday!
On the other hand, I’m feeling terribly scattered and disorganized.