WHAM! Pineappled!

Today has been a good day. Terribly unproductive, but one of the best days I have had this month. And I have not so much as left the house yet. Things that make today wonderful:

• wedding planning
• unexpected conversations with wonderful persons
• plans falling apart, only to come together perfectly
• barbecues
• foreign adventure
• pineapples

I opened the pantry in hopes of finding a cracker. A cracker for a snacker, you might say. As I was closing the Breton box, cracker in mouth, I looked up to the top shelf of the pantry. And that's when it hit me. WHAM! PINEAPPLED! Right between the eyes! Note: I was not, in fact, literally marked by the pineapple. But it was a shocker, let me tell you. Oh yes, that is what I was just about to do... Now normally the site of a pineapple would not inspire nearly so much shock and awe in me, but this was an exceptional little pineapple. In the nearly two years that I have inhabited this apartment, you see, there has never, (no, never) been a pineapple to inhabit it with me. You might say the 99 is a pineapple free zone. Note: people might look at you funny if you did, but you just might anyway, you crazy nut, you. So the sight of a pineapple was a highly unusual and foreign experience. Kudos, young produce, for you have braved the treacherous journey that is... being purchased and carried home by Angela!

Dancing Records, Wooden Spoons

I tend to forget that no matter where in the world a person is, the one thing that remains constant is the inconstancy of time. All over North America today there are people cursing their double beds, their dressers, and those cumbersome armoires, wishing they did not have to move from this apartment to the next. People frantically scrounge for first, last, or even just next month's rent. People forget and then recall again with a pang and a turn of the stomach that there are phone bills and mortgage installments to be made. And this activity continues in perpetuity, biweekly, and month after month, never changing, while nothing stays the same. Such is the nature of the capitalist maze, I suppose.

This post is dedicated to Alison and April, in hope that their transitions are without event, and to the 99, which will soon be no longer.

"...a sense of the gravity of knowledge..."

Hmm. Well. I think it might have something to do with knowing something terrible, knowing that you will always know it, and knowing that you have a lot of power to affect such a terrible thing. Sort of a pandora's box thing, mayhaps?

Elegy for a Test Tube Vase

It travelled over 3000 kilometres, and a curtain killed it.

Lluvem

There's a quaint little bookstore that I frequent with my husband (Carlos, this morning). Today we were on our way to the hospital, when Carlos decided he needed reading material. The impending birth of a child, it seems, would not be entertainment enough. After Carlos pulled up across from the bookstore, I sighed, conceded, and waited as he turned in to the alley leading to Lluvem's customer parking. By the time we had pulled into the alley, not even parked yet, several years had passed, and our daughter groaned from the back seat as dad got out to spend yet another 'jiffy' in our favourite bookstore. It was raining lightly, as it is now. The mists come lightly, softly, and few by few. They bring with them the sadness that one knows after the anticipated end of a long period of happiness. A pink and brown brick library, on a downtown street, in the middle of a shower. If ever it were so...