Category: Life

You were born in the year of the Dragon, during the month of the Dragon. You are a Double Dragon. Thus, your life will be like a terrible Allisya Milano film vehicle: badly written and full of kung-fu.

Your birthday today was a symbolic rebirth. The snow falling on the Northeastern states was a baptism. You will awaken tomorrow and find that your apartment has been cleaned, you’ve learned Icelandic, and you can sing Etta James without cracking the final key-change.

A month has passed, Aries, since you re-framed your life. As the weeks go by and your brain reboots, put your trust in the words of Walter.

This is not ‘Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.

Plover and I in our new home

Yesterday during a convergence of April birthdays and near-birthdays, I attended a large party.

The Large Party was held in honor of Lexie (who has turned a bewitching 30) and somewhat less so, myself who will turn a similar age in a few days.

Attendees were numerous and varied, and ranged from dog to human, and (often) back to dog.

An entire pig was roasted.

The pig, we are told, led a happy life. He went to the best schools, enjoyed daily trotter-massage, and had a healthy skincare regimen.

Lexie’s wife Marguerite shot him between the eyes and hung him from a tree in the backyard.
He was delicious.

Wishing you good friends with sharp knives,
-Erica

One more blizzard. One last blizzard. There have been storms since I returned, in one form or another. The snow is a fact. The storm is a fact.

Un-ignorable when you need to drive/shovel/haul wood.

By blizzard, I mean: Sideways snow total-white zero-detail pixelation of horizon, foreground, sky, and earth.

By shovel, I mean: The taller-than-me pile of shoveled/plowed effluent framing the driveway.

By haul wood, I mean: To keep the house warm.

By drive, I mean: My sexy rental car. To replace the Nissan I slid into a guardrail during the LAST blizzard.

I’m going to plunge into the snow for a few hours, shovel it into submission, and face the evening. Wish me luck.

“Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation, can that which is indestructible be found in us.”

Unknown Pema Chodron (1936 – ) western Buddhist nun (thanks Dwayne!)

Short story, actually.

This morning we woke up to a loud noise and burning smell. A mouse had climbed into our furnace motor blower, got cozy, and met his doom when the heat kicked on. We had to call in the furnace guy to pry him out.

I’m not sure if this counts as a win for the fat lazy cats, or as a Pyhrric victory for Team Mouse.