Friday, October 2, 2009

notes from the home front

By now it is two in the afternoon and perhaps a quarter of the chores, tasks, responsibilities, and promises have been accomplished, the morning is well over, lunch is a significant consideration on the horizon, and imagine the beauty of self, awake at 2 pm, filled with the joy of completion, being handed a mug of coffee and slice of warm toast with strawberry jam, and realizing that it is only seven-thirty in the morning, the mundane has been neatly tucked out of sight, and:
With coffee and toast, locate patch of golden sunlight streaming through window; sit on cushion in light, cats perched nearby. In the quiet and stillness feel the city awaken, the house reverberate, the rain on the roof and the wind in the trees. Stretch. Remove the cat from the other side and stretch in that direction, too. As the blood makes its circuit successfully through each system, limb, chakra, awakens each toe and each memory, write a letter, listen to Chopin, brew a pot of tea, experiment with a new schematic or design, then catch up on the articles in the New Yorker, rather than just the skimming of the cartoons that took place while on the phone the previous evening.

in front of the wood stove
first rice pudding (coconut, with fresh mango) of the season