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During our Thursday morning walk a week or two ago, Ana said, "It's summer! I check your blog every day but you haven't been posting. What's up?"

Yeah. Summer slips by, half over, and I haven't approached my blogs. I've circled them warily, considered where I want them to take me, retreated at the divestiture of cognitive energy. It's mucky in there and I haven't mustered the strength for the necessary mental housekeeping.

At the preschool last year I accepted a new position. I was hopeful then, dashed now. Though I don't feel the need to hash it out here, I do feel the need to acknowledge the struggle and to step away from it, shoulders square under the shreds of my ego.

Maybe that's enough confession to get me going again. I'll keep you posted.


auntie m said…
I miss your blog. Don't check it as often as I used to because there is nothing there. But I would look forward to seeing you post again.
Funny, it seems that "dashed" is what most of the world can relate to. We are so fearful of putting it out there, and yet, it what so many people respond to...because we've been there and don't have the balls to say so.

Spilling my guts has always been rewarded here, darling, go for it. I read your posts and I think, "she went for it, by God, she went for it." Not her cup of tea? OOOoooo! Stand by, what's on deck?!

I love you.

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wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.

expanding my culinary horizons

After last night's culinary debacle, today's culinary surprise was particularly welcome. My dear friend Rukmi brought me lunch! Rukmi is Sri Lankan. She cooks the best food. I ate a fish and egg croquette, lentil curry, saffron rice, all with delicious chicken and what I thought might be tuna. I asked Rukmi what the meat was, and she told me it's all chicken. "The flat, triangular meat? With the spices? Is it tuna?"

She laughed lightly. "That's a wegetable," she said, in her lovely Sinhalese way.

"Oh, yeah? Like a beet?" That made sense, because it flaked like tuna steak or like beets might.

"It is jackfruit."

Jackfruit? Jackfruit! I ate jackfruit today. Rukmi told me all about it: she used canned young jackfruit she bought at G & L Market on 22nd St.; fully grown jackfruits are gigantic and if one fell on your head it could kill you. When fully ripe, jackfruit is full of big pods that each have a seed in the middle, like a po…

the more things change...

So many reasons it's been a long time since we took the boys out thrift store shopping. Yesterday, Tuesday, both of us had a full day off to spend as we pleased.

First we ate at Chaffin's Diner. They seated us in the less-dinery back room, which ended up being a good thing because we sat directly beneath a fan and didn't notice so much the heat. E drank decaff coffee with cream. I didn't notice sugar. Decaff, like his Uncle D. Coffee, like his Mimi.

We hit Shop for a Cause first, where the boys found nothing and subsequently sulked.

Next we pulled into the Humane Society Thrift Store, which I haven't visited in a long time. Historically I haven't found anything there.

Today we hit the treasure jackpot.

A $2 Ziploc bag containing the comprehensive plastic presidential contingent from Washington through Eisenhower.

Of course E had them ordered in a matter of moments.

Finally we escaped the store with a trove of treasures (more than I've found in one place in …