In Case You Need A Good Cry

If this doesn't make you cry, then I don't know if we can still be friends.

Last Minutes with ODEN from phos pictures on Vimeo.


Goethe & Goetze/Facing Acrophobia/Happy New Year!

A thought for the new year:

"All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own."
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Here is a December slideshow, quite long and street art heavy by Jason & Tracy. (That's right, Jason took a few of these--he's quite good.) The music is provided by Ablaye Cissoko & Volker Goetze with a song called Lountang. This song contains some of the loveliest sounds I've heard in a long while. That trumpet, you guys....that trumpet! And the kora! And Cissoko's voice! BEAUTIFUL. Oh, and in the slideshow you will see some nice (except for the glare) pictures from our trip to the top of the tallest building in Melbourne, the Eureka Tower, which is also the world's tallest residential building. This little adventure involved me facing one of my biggest fears! The way I see it, people have no business being that high up. In more ways than one, it's for the birds! We took the fastest lift in the Southern Hemisphere, traveling at more than 9 metres per second up to the 88th floor for some fantastic views of the city. The building also has the world's first Edge experience, a glass cube which projects 3 metres out of the building, 300 metres up, with you inside of it. We did not do the Edge! It was enough for me just being up that high. I didn't feel the need to risk my life any further. Baby steps...baby steps. I did promise to do it when Jay & Barbra come, though!! I have several months to mentally prepare myself. I was convinced the building was going to fall over or collapse at any moment. Seriously, the floor felt very unsteady to me. The top of the tower can flex up to 600mm in high winds! Dad, you would have been freakin' out! No one else seemed to be concerned, though and Jason gently told me how irrational I was being, so I eventually chillaxed and enjoyed the views. It was scary and awesome at the same time! But I was definitely relieved when my feet were back on Earth where they belong. It's good to face fears every now and then, I suppose. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the sights and sounds! And Happy New Year!


Merry Christmas 2008/9!

Last year we had lots of fun taking Christmas pictures using Granny Smith's handy dandy Photo Booth. Granny Smith is what I call my Mac in case you wondering. She's an Apple, get it? Do you? Anyway, the goal was to take a good picture to put on a Christmas card to send to all of you. Naturally, the card was never made or sent. Until today. So, I guess Merry Christmas 2008 Everybody!

And Merry Christmas 2009!

(We're sooooo grown up now.)

If you ask me, this year's picture is lame. It needs a Yuki and a Coltrane and a few less fat rolls or wrinkles or whatever the heck those lines are on my face. The houseplants are looking good, though. Except Flinders. Sorry Flinders. But Dundee is looking especially festive. And that handsome fella on the far left is the newest member of our family. His name is Jonas. We inherited him from Dave when he left. He's really nice.

Last year's attempt at a Christmas video:

(Believe it or not, this was the best one.)


Hey Everybody! In Australia, it's Abe's Birthday!!!

Abe, I remember when you turned 2 and you got that awesome red wagon! And on your 3rd birthday, you and Nick K. had so much fun playing with all of the balloons! I wish I could be there for your 4th birthday. For one, because I love you and think you are soooo much fun to be around. And also, because your Mommy makes delicious sweet treats on your birthday! Like this:
and this:
Mmmmm... I wonder what you will have this year? I will be thinking about you a whole whole lot today and wishing you a Happy 4th Birthday!!!

Happy Birthday to You!
Happy Birthday to You...
Happy Birthday Dear Abe,
Happy Birthday to You!
Hip, Hip, Hurray!
Hip, Hip, Hurray! (that's how they sing it in Australia!)

And now a Special Message from Bunny:

School's Out, Time to Blog; Give the People What They Want; or Location, Location, Location

Tonight, Tracy and I finally watched a movie that everyone has been telling us to watch since we first got to Australia, The Castle (as in “a man's house is his castle”). It's a classic Aussie comedy about a family forced to fight a legal battle for their home which is going to be taken to expand the neighboring airport. It is a very sweet and endearing portrait of a father who loves nothing more than his family and the home that they live in. We were rooting (although that word has a different meaning here) for the family the whole time, because we did not want to see these good people kicked out of the home that they love so much. Then I started to think about how I have not lived in the same home for longer than a year for over eight years. So, while I was lying in bed thinking about The Castle and my modern nomad life, I started to think about the extent to which we often allow our location to determine our happiness. Actually, this is something that I've been thinking about for a while now (for obvious reasons). I think that most people have an ideal place that they would like to live, or at least an idea of the kind of place. Personally, I think that I would be very happy to settle down and have a castle of my own in Santa Fe. Ultimately, though, I hope that I could be happy anywhere. I realize that each place on this diverse planet has different qualities that may be more or less amenable to a comfortable, happy life. For instance, living in Australia, and even DC, has made me realize the value of being close to family; so, location is important in that regard. However, when I was living at home, I was unhappy with my location, because I did not feel like small town life suited me. Then I moved to Austin, where I was still relatively close to my family, but, although it felt like home, after a few years I felt the need to change locations again. Austin had changed. I had changed. So, a new location was needed. Actually, it wasn't as linear as that. We missed Austin a lot during the first year in DC, and thought that we might have been happier if we had not moved. Then, as we became more acclimated to DC (or Takoma Park, rather), it started to feel like home; but we knew we didn't want to stay there forever, and Australia sounded like fun, so away we went again. Now, as excited as we were about coming, we just cannot wait to go back to the states, and change our location yet again. My happiness has been facilitated by moving locations, but The Castle made me think about how other peoples' happiness may be equally determined by their continued occupation of the same location. Moving because you're trying to find a place where you can be happy is just as bad as refusing to move because you think that you cannot be happy anywhere else but where you are. So, if you are unhappy with where you are or are afraid that you cannot be happy anywhere else, don't be. I'm not saying, don't move or do move. I'm saying that it does not matter. Don't let your location determine your happiness. It's not up to the location, it's up to you. Be happy that your location is Earth. Be happy that your location is this moment, every moment. Be happy that your location is you, your body, your soul. If I had it in me, and I wasn't afraid of losing the few of you who have read this far already (thanks mom), I might talk about how time and space are relative to support my argument that location is largely irrelevant; but I think you get the idea. At least, I hope you do. Law school has made it hard for me to write congruently without legal citations to tie everything together.


Happy Anniversary Jack & Vera!

Jack & Vera are two of the coolest people I have ever met. I still remember quite vividly the first time I met them, three Christmases ago when they invited me into their home to share Christmas with their family and treated me as if I were already family. After that first night with Jason's family, I was almost as in love with his family as I was with him. That's the kind of people they are, salt of the earth. If you ask me, they represent thegoodinyou, the good in all of us. When Jack speaks, people listen and listen hard, if they know what's good for them. He is one of those rare men, respectable in every way. I refer to these types of men as Atticus Finches. You know, the kind of men who say things like this: "If you just learn a single trick, Scout, you'll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." And Vera! Vera is everything a woman should be, strong and kind, graceful and humble, fiercely loyal and beautiful, with skin to die for. I refer to these kinds of women as Veras. And the way Jack & Vera love each other and treat each other with the utmost respect is truly an inspiring thing to behold! Jason and I are so fortunate to be witness to such strong marriages to model our own after. All this is to say, Jack & Vera, we love you and are so thankful for you! Happy Anniversary!


and you are now vast and open sea

Jason and I took a trip to a little spot on the Great Ocean Road called Skenes Creek. The views were gorgeous, the wind, rain and flies plentiful, the water, cold and beautiful. We learned that flies really like one or both of the following things: bright yellow and/or Jewish Science Fairs. If you watch the slideshow you'll know what I mean. The music is brought to you by Akron Family with a song called River. I wanted to share it because Jason and I had the privilege of seeing them recently and... they totally rocked our faces off. It was an awesome show, except that the guy behind us was burping hot dogs and beer and the guy in front of us was farting. Seriously. Austin area people: They are playing at The Parish in February. I recommend that you go.

I really like the lyrics:

And you are no longer a river to me
And you are no longer a river to me
Though your coursing remain eager to acquaint me
And you are no longer a docile stream
And you are no longer a docile stream
Though your patience proves you into ease

And once this spark met kindling
Forgets its gentle ambling
Becoming heat, becoming steam
Becoming luminescent glee
Atoms splinter, sparkling
Alive and nimble symmetry
And all along, this glistening
Blankets we and everything
Shadows dance triumphantly
A wordless whisper sighs and pleas
Little deaths envelope thee
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three

And you are not glassy bay to me
And you are not glassy bay to me
Though my tired fleet abides in your gentle breeze
And you are now vast and open sea
And my mind travels you endlessly
And you beckon, toss and toss and swallow me

And once this spark met kindling
Forgets its gentle ambling
Becoming heat, becoming steam
Becoming luminescent glee
Atoms splinter, sparkling
Alive and nimble symmetry
And all along, this glistening
Blankets we and everything
Shadows dance triumphantly
A wordless whisper sighs and pleas
Little deaths envelope thee
You and I and a flame makes three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three
You and I and a flame make three


Peace is Life Living Through You

Ruidoso, NM


Hokusai says Look carefully.
He says pay attention, notice.
He says keep looking, stay curious.
He says there is no end to seeing.

He says Look Forward to getting old.
He says keep changing,
you just get more who you really are.
He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself
as long as it’s interesting.

He says keep doing what you love.
He says keep praying.
He says every one of us is a child,

every one of us is ancient,
every one of us has a body.
He says every one of us is frightened.
He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.

He says everything is alive -
shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees.
Wood is alive.
Water is alive.
Everything has its own life.
Everything lives inside us.
He says live with the world inside you.

He says it doesn’t matter if you draw, or write books.
It doesn’t matter if you saw wood, or catch fish.
It doesn’t matter if you sit at home
and stare at the ants on your verandah or the shadows of the trees
and grasses in your garden.

It matters that you care.
It matters that you feel.
It matters that you notice.
It matters that life lives through you.

Contentment is life living through you.
Joy is life living through you.
Satisfaction and strength
are life living through you.
Peace is life living through you.

He says don’t be afraid.
Don’t be afraid.
Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.
Let life live through you.

-Roger Keyes


"You're like a big bear, man."

Folks, this is how winning is done:



So, I was making a random slideshow of November pictures, mostly because I was bored, but even more mostly because I love the song, Walkabout by Atlas Sound w/Noah Lennox and wanted to share it. It's so awesome! and besides, it's called Walkabout, which is the term for the Aboriginal tradition of tracing their ancestors' songlines, a rite of passage in the wilderness, which I think is pretty freakin' cool. I started thinking about the morning Skype conversation I had with my sister about the possibility of her own sort of walkabout, which I think is pretty freakin' cool. And I realized as I was looking at these snapshots of my life in November, of what I had seen and done, of some of the people and things whose paths I had crossed, that I'm in the midst of my own sort of walkabout. I do a lot of walking about these days, drifting through this big, beautiful city, over the bridge, through the gardens, now back home through the alleyways, all the while soaking up my surroundings, wandering keen-eyed and small, watching the world, feeling a part of it all.

"Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe." -Anatole France

When I wander, I don't feel lost at all, even when I realize I have no idea where I am. Somehow, my meanderings are leading me home. I think man tries so hard to make a place in this world, a concrete, tangible, safe place to shield ourselves from the unknown, and why wouldn't we? This universe is so big and mysterious and we are these tiny little ants. We want to be able to say with confidence and specificity, this is my place and my purpose, to nail down our existence: this is who I am, this is what I do, this is where I live, so as to make sense of it all. But the truth is you are as much of a mystery as this universe, small as you are, no matter who or what you say you are. To wander about someplace unknown, to wonder about something unknown then, is to admit your own smallness and to say to the universe, I want to discover you. And in discovering something beyond yourself, you end up realizing something within yourself, which I think is pretty freakin' cool. I'm not sure if any of that makes any sense, but, anyway, what I really want to say is, I'm thankful that I'm so small and clueless. I'm thankful that, if I'm lucky, there is still much wandering and wondering left for me to do.

Looking, Walking, Being
by Denise Levertov

"The world is not something to look at,
it is something to be in." -Mark Rudman

I look and look.
Looking's a way of being: one becomes,
sometimes, a pair of eyes walking.
Walking wherever looking takes one.

The eyes
dig and burrow into the world.
They touch
fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor.
World and the past of it,
not only
visible present, solid and shadow
that looks at one looking.

And language? Rhythms
of echo and interruption?
a way of breathing.

breathing to sustain
walking and looking,
through the world,
in it.


Stamp it on your heart

I hope you're having the kind of day
which causes you to think
this is true:

-quote by Allen Ginsberg

I hope that even if
you aren't having that kind of day
you still believe
it is true.

Thanksgiving 2009

"Find the good and praise it."
-Alex Haley

Mine and Jason's first Thanksgiving as a married couple was, well, unconventional. No family, no turkey or tofurky, no dogs begging for scraps under the table, no table, no crisp fall weather, half a world away from home in a country that (naturally) does not celebrate Thanksgiving. And yet, it was a day full of blessings. The sun was shining and we were together and happy. And the food! Oh, the food. We went a little carb crazy. Jason and I cooked up some of our favorite foods: mashed potatoes, macaroni & cheese, corn, "sausage" dressing, and carrot cupcakes with cream cheese frosting to share with our friend, Dave. The seating arrangements? Two camping chairs and an exercise ball out on the deck. Jason's face in the big picture above pretty much sums it up. We were deliriously full of gratitude and fatitude. After Dave left to roll himself home, Jason and I attempted to watch Home Alone, but a food -induced coma ensued... I made it to my favorite line: "Look what you did, you little jerk." and I was out, my belly and heart perfectly plump. I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving, too!

Quote by Miranda July


Three Random Videos to Make You Smile

These are all wildly popular videos, especially the first and the third, so you may have already seen them. Jason and I just discovered them recently and thought they were worth sharing on the off chance you haven't already seen them. Just like each of you, they're all AWESOME in their own way. Hope they brighten your day!

I couldn't embed this one, so you'll have to follow the link:


Confessions of a Pogonophile & The Birth of Beard Man or Why Someone Needs to Give Me a Freakin' Job!

You know it's time to get a life (maybe a job? perhaps a friend?) when the idea of charting the growth of your husband's beard sounds like something really fun to do.

It all started back in September when I was debating whether or not to cut my hair. It was getting pretty nappy and I was thinking of going much shorter. I asked Jason his opinion and got the usual response:

"I don't know. Do whatever you want. I think you look beautiful no matter what you do with your hair."
"Yeah, but what do you really think?"
"It really doesn't matter what I think."
"Uhhh, yeah it does. I'm asking you aren't I?"
After several more minutes of pressing and pleading on my part for a freakin' opinion, I finally got it:
"Okay, if you really want to know, I think you look better with long hair."
Wrong answer. He was supposed to say he thought I should cut it short since that's the decision I was leaning towards. I just needed a little encouragement. Why couldn't he see that? It was so obvious!
I sigh a long sigh. "What is it with guys and long hair? Could you be any more shallow?"
Jason, sensing my annoyance, tries to recover with, "No, I just think long hair suits your personality better."
The truth is I can't say a thing because the way many men feel about women with long luxurious locks is the way I feel about men with big beautiful beards. I mean, can you possibly imagine anything sexier than a beautiful bearded mountain man chopping firewood in a flannel shirt? Well, can you? I know I can't. So, somehow, out of our own shallowness and need to control each other, we came upon an agreement, a sacred pact: For one year, I solemnly swear not to cut my stringy strands and Jason promises friendship to the fruits of his facial follicles. So while I begin my journey towards this:

Do you think my hair will get this long in a year?

Jason strives to become this:
Isn't he cute?
(I can't remember where I found this picture. Sorry Beard Man creator.)

Would you like to know some interesting facts about beards brought to you by Wikipedia? Okay!
  • From the dashing Donegal (think Abe Lincoln) to the gorgeous Garibaldi (think Giuseppe) there are many different types and styles of beard. My personal favorite? The neck beard, as sported by the sexy Thoreau below:
  • Facial hair growth is stimulated by dihydrotestosterone, which ironically, also promotes balding.
  • Pogonophobia is the fear of beards.
  • The ancient Greeks, who commonly curled their beards with tongs, saw beards as a sign of virility.
  • In ancient India, a long beard was a sign of wisdom. The punishment for adultery? Public beard chopping.
Want to see a photographic presentation of Jason's transformation into Beard Man? Okay!

But still a far cry from RED BEARD:

This guy would scare the begeezus out of a pogonophobic.
I think he couldn't be any sexier.
(Unless he had an axe and a flannel shirt.)

For all you other beardos out there who just can't get enough of manly hairy faces:

A poem I love.

Hymn by A. R. Ammons

I know if I find you I will have to leave the earth

and go on out

over the sea marshes and the brant in bays

and over the hills of tall hickory

and over the crater lakes and canyons

and on up through the spheres of diminishing air

past the blackset noctilucent clouds

where one wants to stop and look

way past all the light diffusions and bombardments

up farther than the loss of sight

into the unseasonal undifferentiated empty stark

And I know if I find you I will have to stay with the earth

inspecting with thin tools and ground eyes

trusting the microvilli sporangia and simplest


and praying for a nerve cell

with all the soul of my chemical reactions

and going right on down where the eye sees only traces

You are everywhere partial and entire

You are on the inside of everything and on the outside

I walk down the path down the hill where the sweetgum

has begun to ooze spring sap at the cut

and I see how the bark cracks and winds like no other bark

chasmal to my ant-soul running up and down

and if I find you I must go out deep into your

far resolutions

and if I find you I must stay here with the separate leaves


Happy Anniversary Mom & Pops!

Today is my parent's 32nd anniversary.
At least, it is in Australia.
And I hope I'm right about the 32. ??
Hey, Mom & Dad,
Remember that year I felt certain that you had been married 25 years, and then you said,
in your I'm trying to be patient, but you're an idiot voice,
"Tracy. How old are you?"
"Duhh, 26," I replied, annoyed you had to ask.
A couple of minutes go by...
(keep in mind, readers, I'm not a bastard child, nor is my older sister)
(True story.)

Jason and I looked on the internet to see what the gift for Anniversary #32 is: Conveyance.
"Oh, that's nice, you convey something to the other, as in you communicate something, like about how much meaning and beauty your partner has given to your life. That's so swee..."
"It means a car," my thought is interrupted by Jason's insistence on living in the real world. "Or a boat, or a motorcycle...some form of transportation."
"Oh," I said. "Seriously?"

Yeah, I don't know if that was just some kind of yuppy site that was I was looking at or if that's the real deal. I mean, for number 100 they said a 10K diamond is in order. At first I was like, WHAT? 10K DIAMOND? ABSURD! Look, I'm not a fan of diamonds. I'm just not that in to sparkly things, especially sparkly things that are far too often ill-gotten. I don't know much about diamonds, but I know enough to know that 10K's no pebble. But then I actually thought about the practical implications, the reality of two people being married for 100 years. Has that even ever happened? If so, if such a thing doesn't warrant a 10K diamond, than what does? Even if it does cost a little blood, sweat and tears... nay! even better that it cost a little blood sweat and tears. It is actually an incredibly appropriate gift if you think about it. So, maybe a car is an appropriate gift for 32 years of marriage? I considered it. I decided it is in fact. The more I thought about the years of commitment, love, friendship and trust my parents have given each other, the more I thought, "Screw conveying gratitude and emotion! Dadgummit. They deserve a car." I knew that most likely neither of my parents would be giving the other a car. So that's when I took matters in to my own hands, marched myself down to Crown Casino and won them this:

(my parents' NEW CAR!)

Crown is a fancy place. Don't believe me? Just look at these fancy-shmancy lights:

(fancy schmancy lights)

And it should be, I mean, gambling is a classy thing. Am I wrong? Well, if anybody knows her way around a fanciful establishment, it's me. For some strange reason, it makes some people uncomfortable. Not me! Give me frou frou and watch me flourish like crime in Bogota, Columbia. I'm not comfortable at dinner unless I have at least three different kinds of forks in front of me. (And that's for a casual dinner.) All that is to say that I was right in my element. I quickly and easily sweet talked my way into a high stakes poker game in the VIP room, where I proceeded to win my parents a sweet-ass convertible for their anniversary and make grown men cry. No big deal. Everybody up there suspects I'm some sort of Rain Man. Anyway, I'm having it shipped to you, Mom & Dad. You'll just need to have the steering wheel and what-not switched over and then she'll be good to go!

Noooo. Almost none of that was true.
BUT! I did make you this pretty flower collage:



I am not one of those super determined people. You know the ones I'm talking about, who are always setting goals and reaching them. If they say they're going to do something, you know it's going to get done. Let me just reiterate: I am not one of those people. Really, I'm not even one of those slightly determined people. I can hear my Dad now, "Uhhh, tell us something we don't know." Well, Dad, for your information, this portion of the post is for the two people who follow my blog who do not already know me. Okay? Now, where was I? Oh yes, I'm an all-star loafer, through and through. In the spirit of sharing things about myself, I'm going to let you in on my motto, my life's philosophy, straight from the goodinyou gospel...It also just so happens to be the greatest song ever written, and it goes like this:

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream.

Every once in a while though, in this dream, along the stream, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I do something crazy. I come down with a case of determination. Determiwhat? I know. I told you it was crazy. Here I am rowing along merrily, dee, dee, dee, life is but a dream... And then I have to go and set a goal and ruin EVERYTHING...

As you may have read in a previous post, Jason and I challenged ourselves to go vegan for the month of November in honor of it being World Vegan Month and citing environmental reasons, blah, blah, blah. I really was determined to do it. Well, let me tell you, we failed. We failed miserably. The reason?

CHEESE. Meat? Forget about it. Milk in its fresher form? Ehh, I can take it or leave it. Eggs? They're pretty creepy anyway. But Cheese?! I would say going without it was hard, but that would be the biggest understatement of all time. It was excruciating. Life is but a dream? Try a nightmare. I think it had been maybe five days before we broke down. We could have simply nibbled a little cheese cracker to fight off the shakes or munched a meager morsel of mozzarella to stop the cold sweat. But that would have been far too sensible. Instead, we ordered an extra large, extra cheese pizza. Failure never tasted so good. And while it felt soooo right to have the cheese grease running down our faces, we said to ourselves, (after we had finished every last piece mind you) no, we can do better. Determined, we picked ourselves up by our cheese-caked bootstraps, and tried again. Six long, rice and nut-filled, god forsaken days later, on the morning of November 12th, I woke up, and I knew what I had to do. I thought, you know, I may not have it all figured out, and by it, I mean anything, but wait a minute, gosh darnit, I do know this thing, this one beautiful thing. As I sat up, the thought sprinted to my vocal chords, and before I could even get a grip on what was happening, I found myself shouting at the very top of my lungs:
If I knew how to get up there, I swear I would have shouted it from the rooftop. How's that for determination?
Jason didn't need much persuading. It was my stupid idea in the first place. And besides, he goes along with what I say most of the time because I let him get frisky with me in the boat sometimes. So, we proceeded to make and devour an entire pot full of homemade mac n cheese. Failure? Yes. But it was creamy, delicious failure. I'm sorry environment, I really do love you, which is why I recycle, which is why I'm a vegetarian, which is why I will never, not ever drive a Hummer. But, when it comes to cheese, if eating it is wrong, I don't want to be right.

So there you have it. What was I thinking setting an unattainable goal like that? What can I say, I lost sight of who I am and almost overexerted myself in the process. Pheww. It was a close one, but in the end I learned something valuable about myself: I cannot live without cheese. And now I feel more determination than ever, to eat as much of it as I possibly can. I think I feel about cheese the way Pooh must feel about honey. And so, in honor of Pooh, who, by the way is my all-time favorite character (see, you're learning all kinds of things about me) I wrote a silly little haikuish song to express my love for cheese:

Like milk from a tit,
Time changes all things.
Behold the power of cheese.

(Except, I don't think Pooh would say tit, not in front of the kids.)

God forbid I should ever develop a lactose intolerance. Amen. Now go eat some CHEESE!

Our default:

Or, if you want to be really naughty, try this recipe:
that got all the npr listening health freaks' panties in a wad. Read some of the comments--they're hilarious. My personal favorite? "This recipe is child abuse!" Clearly, this person needs to eat more cheese, get a boat, and chill out on the stream for awhile.


all which isn't singing is mere talking: in praise of ee cummings, silliness, and spring!

when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)

(from when faces called flowers float out of the ground by ee cummings)

i love ee cummings almost as much as i love spring. and i love spring almost as much as i love silliness. so when they all come together, i get this warmth! a tiny ticklish feeling in my heart and a smile that spreads on my face like vegemite on toast. eww. better make it peanut butter. that's much better. i read once that he wrote his first poem when he was three and that it goes like this: "Oh little birdie oh oh oh, With your toe toe toe."

and anyway my point is that everybody knows that spring is a time for silliness. ee cummings knew it. the flowers know it. the birds, too. i've seen some birds doing some pretty silly things lately, like the one in the gardens just the other day who sat real still for a long long time, only moving to cock his head slightly as he stared at the red red roses above. and then i swear, he did a little jig! and disappeared into the sky. i know it isn't Spring where you are, but it can be spring in your heart whenever you want it to be, right? and besides, since when do you need an excuse to act silly? whoever reads this, please do something silly.

since the thing perhaps is to eat flowers
and not to be afraid.

(from the ee cummings poem, voices to voices, lip to lip)


Camping at Cape Paterson

Our first Australian camping experience did not disappoint. We went to Cape Paterson Beach, 138 kilometers southeast of Melbourne. The sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. The water temperature was quite cold, so, with the exception of a few jumps in off the rocks, we mostly waded, explored, and soaked up some serious rays. Mom, you will be happy to know that we did a very good job of keeping sunscreen on. Therefore, I am only mildly sunburned. And Jason, of course, is just tan. We saw some really cool looking rocks, shells, and seaweed. We didn't see any sharks, just one dead jelly fish, a rat, some fish, and lots of crazy looking and sounding birds. At night back at the tent, by the light of my headlamp, we took turns reading The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami to each other, which by the way, is a tremendously compelling novel so far. Though we're only about a third of the way into it, we both would like to go ahead and highly recommend it.

We had a swell time. Check out the slideshow with music by The Swell Season. The song is Feeling the Pull from their new album, Strict Joy