Well, it's been a month since my last entry. A Reader's Digest Condensed update--we had a great Christmas in Kentucky with Ken's extended family. Then we spent a few days in the Pigeon Forge area. Rented a cabin and had a nice getaway. In the wee hours of New Year's Day Ken proposed. Of course I said yes!!!!
So. Lotsa changes on the horizon. Neither of our houses is large enough for both of us. WHERE will we live? Enter the eye tic. Those who know me really well know that I'm a nester. Have been since I was a little kid. Even when my age was in single digits I loved to go wallpaper shopping and tour model homes and spent lots of time deciding on things in my room. What would be on the nightstand? What would be on the dresser? I'd arrange accessories and rearrange the furniture. If I wasn't doing things to my bedroom then I was rearranging doll furniture and making sure all dolls had comfortable beds or a good place to sleep in the playroom. (Early warning signs of my eventual issues of thread count in sheets and my Holy Grail search for the perfect pillow?) A year or two ago when I got a new area rug in the living room it took me weeks to find the perfect new throw pillows for the couch and many more days to finalize their setting and placement.
So, the eye tic. Stress gives me eye tics and especially around my left eye. I love Ken a bushel and a peck (and a hug around the neck) and have no doubt about our life together. But where would we live???? How could we set a date if we didn't know where? A house would have to be found and then the gargantuan tasks of going through all our stuff and we have A LOT of stuff. My left eye ticked and twitched. People surely thought I was winking and flirting with them as they gave their congratulations which only caused the tic to increase. Jeez O'Pete.
Mom loved the restaurant A Country Affair--just west of Crawfordsville. They had a large painting of a bright and warm orange poppy against a dark blue background. One visit there she was wearing a navy shirt with large orange poppies on it. She had her picture taken in front of the painting and I've always loved that image of her. It was maybe 10-12 years ago. Her health was pretty good and it's an image that shows personality and joy on her face. Hadn't seen that picture in quite awhile and I'd been thinking about it these last couple weeks. Last weekend during some ridding and sorting I found it! I FOUND IT!
I've needed her a a lot lately. Big time in my life. Big changes to come. I just *needed* her. Having that picture has made such a huge difference. Silly as it sounds, that pesky eye tic is greatly diminished. We've set a date and chosen the venue. We have a contractor coming to look at my house and see if it's feasible (and affordable) to convert attic space and maybe build up over the garage. If not then we'll look for a house. Besides all the work that's been done to my house, Mom, Daddy, Aunt Karen, Gabby, and other important people in my life who've all since died have been here and left it full of memories. Silly me. I know that memories are in my heart but it's just so hard to think of leaving here.
Back to that photograph. It soothed me. Calmed me. Made my usually stoic self return once again. If the house can be enlarged, good. If not, I can focus on the excitement of Ken and I looking for a new house and us making a new home. I'm sure I'll still obsess over the throw pillows and futz, and futz, and refutz on those and a gazillion other things minute to others but major to me.
A glance at that picture of Mom--dancing ice blue eyes and enigmatic closed mouth smile--and I can do anything!
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Roun Yon
Roun yon. The first word rhymes with noun. It makes perfect sense to me. Roun yon. Roun-yon-virgin-mother-an-child.
Gabby (my grandmother) had a gorgeous shiny black baby grand piano (unfortunately downsized to a spinet when she built a new house) and I loved to sit next to her on the bench as she played and sang. She'd been a drama major at Northwestern University in the 20's and during college summers toured with the Red Path Chatauqua. To say she was dramatic and lived life with flair would be as true as saying I dress in drab colors. Gabby's singing voice was that kind that was popular (attractive? Ew...not to me) in the 20's and a sort of quiver to it....kinda like Jeannette McDonald. Her piano playing was good and I loved how she'd cross one hand over the other while she was playing. She had plump hands with long painted nails. I can just see those flourishes as she'd play, cross hands, and never miss a note.
I love lots of Christmas songs but Silent Night is probably my favorite. I remember sitting with Gabby as she played it and I sang my little kid heart out. Sigh-uh-lunt night. (Right hand crosses left hand and plucks out a note.) Ho-oly night. (Another hand crossing.) All is calm, all is bright. Roun yon vir-irgin, mother and child. She stopped playing. Roun yon? she asked. I nodded or did something to the affirmative. I was never afraid of her but it was startling that she stopped playing. Roun yon? Then she explained the song and straightened me out on the lyrics and suddenly it made sense! Around Mary. Around her!
Megan and Mark's Christmas card this year (Megan is my cousin) had a vintage picture of someone decorating a tree and someone readily giving helpful "instructions" on where to put an ornament. Megan wrote a funny (and oh, so true!) note about Mom, Gabby, and Aunt Karen rowing up on the couch and giving directions as the tree got decorated and how that had ruined decorating a tree for her. Man, do I remember that! It was usually just Mom and I decorating our tree (Daddy was typically in the other room g-damning about the mess of the .ktree and how commercialized the holiday had become). Mom's directing ensued That spot, there, it needs a red something. That place, just above your head needs a long ornament. The bare spot above that branch needs something tucked in there. And so it continued. Then it came time for the icicles. That aluminum foil, teeny narrow strips kind. By then I had grown tired of the decorating and had my craw full of being directed (bossed to death!). Place them on one at a time. They need to hang straight down like a real icicle would. No...just ONE at a time. Mom would feel like she could leave and stop her supervising duty since it was nearly over and she'd made it clear just how the icicles were to be placed. And once she'd left the room I'd gleefully throw handfuls of shimmering icicles at the tree and watch as they fell in clumps and smile at my secret as some icicles settled in horizontally.
I don't use those old timey icicles but I do boss myself when decorating the tree. Two many gold ornaments in that area. That's too large and needs to be on a lower branch. No, keep the ornaments on the lower branches the unbreakable ones as the cat will knock them off or a dog hurrying by may dislodge one from its branch.
I step back and look at the tree. I need perspective to decide which ornament goes next. Where more color is needed. It's perspective. It's always perspective. Get the lyrics right, get the words right....and things make sense. Color and pattern and space and repetition and order and disorder....and things make sense.
It's all about perspective. Always. And not just song lyrics and Christmas trees.
Gabby (my grandmother) had a gorgeous shiny black baby grand piano (unfortunately downsized to a spinet when she built a new house) and I loved to sit next to her on the bench as she played and sang. She'd been a drama major at Northwestern University in the 20's and during college summers toured with the Red Path Chatauqua. To say she was dramatic and lived life with flair would be as true as saying I dress in drab colors. Gabby's singing voice was that kind that was popular (attractive? Ew...not to me) in the 20's and a sort of quiver to it....kinda like Jeannette McDonald. Her piano playing was good and I loved how she'd cross one hand over the other while she was playing. She had plump hands with long painted nails. I can just see those flourishes as she'd play, cross hands, and never miss a note.
I love lots of Christmas songs but Silent Night is probably my favorite. I remember sitting with Gabby as she played it and I sang my little kid heart out. Sigh-uh-lunt night. (Right hand crosses left hand and plucks out a note.) Ho-oly night. (Another hand crossing.) All is calm, all is bright. Roun yon vir-irgin, mother and child. She stopped playing. Roun yon? she asked. I nodded or did something to the affirmative. I was never afraid of her but it was startling that she stopped playing. Roun yon? Then she explained the song and straightened me out on the lyrics and suddenly it made sense! Around Mary. Around her!
Megan and Mark's Christmas card this year (Megan is my cousin) had a vintage picture of someone decorating a tree and someone readily giving helpful "instructions" on where to put an ornament. Megan wrote a funny (and oh, so true!) note about Mom, Gabby, and Aunt Karen rowing up on the couch and giving directions as the tree got decorated and how that had ruined decorating a tree for her. Man, do I remember that! It was usually just Mom and I decorating our tree (Daddy was typically in the other room g-damning about the mess of the .ktree and how commercialized the holiday had become). Mom's directing ensued That spot, there, it needs a red something. That place, just above your head needs a long ornament. The bare spot above that branch needs something tucked in there. And so it continued. Then it came time for the icicles. That aluminum foil, teeny narrow strips kind. By then I had grown tired of the decorating and had my craw full of being directed (bossed to death!). Place them on one at a time. They need to hang straight down like a real icicle would. No...just ONE at a time. Mom would feel like she could leave and stop her supervising duty since it was nearly over and she'd made it clear just how the icicles were to be placed. And once she'd left the room I'd gleefully throw handfuls of shimmering icicles at the tree and watch as they fell in clumps and smile at my secret as some icicles settled in horizontally.
I don't use those old timey icicles but I do boss myself when decorating the tree. Two many gold ornaments in that area. That's too large and needs to be on a lower branch. No, keep the ornaments on the lower branches the unbreakable ones as the cat will knock them off or a dog hurrying by may dislodge one from its branch.
I step back and look at the tree. I need perspective to decide which ornament goes next. Where more color is needed. It's perspective. It's always perspective. Get the lyrics right, get the words right....and things make sense. Color and pattern and space and repetition and order and disorder....and things make sense.
It's all about perspective. Always. And not just song lyrics and Christmas trees.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Odd Couples
These last few days I've been thinking lots and lots about Newtown, CT and their devastating loss and how they're suffering but I'm still thinking and not ready to write/talk about it yet. So, on a goofy note (which we no doubt all need) here's some lighter fare.
Odd couples. We all know some. They can make us laugh, wonder how long they'll last, raise our eyebrows with their mixed-and-matched ways. Here are some different odd couples. Pull up a picture of them in your head and imagine how they look together. What would they do on dates? Would they agree on politics? What would they snack on? Would they cuddle on the couch or sit far apart in stiff-backed chairs? What kind of vacations would they have? Could they find enough common ground to actually go on a vacation together?
Lots and lots to think about and imagine with these couples.
Andy and Serena Williams
Will and Kate Smith
Bill and Ann Murray
Dolly and Oscar Madison
Earl and Meredith Grey
Ted and Tina Turner
Joseph and Kate Smith (looks like Kate gets around, huh?)
Robert and Donna Reed
Dorrie and Neal Armstrong
Kenny and Ginger Rogers
Olivia Newton and Elton John
Rod and Martha Stewart
Tom and Taylor Swift
Betty and E.B. White
Cat and Stella Stevens
Pamela and Hans Christian Anderson
Ben and Aretha Franklin
Neil and Loretta Young
Who's your favorite? What others can you think of?
Odd couples. We all know some. They can make us laugh, wonder how long they'll last, raise our eyebrows with their mixed-and-matched ways. Here are some different odd couples. Pull up a picture of them in your head and imagine how they look together. What would they do on dates? Would they agree on politics? What would they snack on? Would they cuddle on the couch or sit far apart in stiff-backed chairs? What kind of vacations would they have? Could they find enough common ground to actually go on a vacation together?
Lots and lots to think about and imagine with these couples.
Andy and Serena Williams
Will and Kate Smith
Bill and Ann Murray
Dolly and Oscar Madison
Earl and Meredith Grey
Ted and Tina Turner
Joseph and Kate Smith (looks like Kate gets around, huh?)
Robert and Donna Reed
Dorrie and Neal Armstrong
Kenny and Ginger Rogers
Olivia Newton and Elton John
Rod and Martha Stewart
Tom and Taylor Swift
Betty and E.B. White
Cat and Stella Stevens
Pamela and Hans Christian Anderson
Ben and Aretha Franklin
Neil and Loretta Young
Who's your favorite? What others can you think of?
Friday, December 14, 2012
Great Evening Thanks To An Optometrist
Last night I had dinner with a great group of people. It was a small bunch of co-workers plus some husbands and significanat others. Chances are extremely slim that any of us would know each other if we hadn't worked together. We were celebrating two things--a retirement and a landmark birthday.
These people are huge parts of my life. We've been huge parts of each other's lives. Some I've known 20+ years and most of them for over 12 years.
We've been through divorces, marriages, birth of a child, birth of grandchildren, and deaths of parents and loved ones and other family members. We've experienced a child's tongue piercing, we know whose mother makes great pies, purchased jewelry together, shared recipes, shopped, spent time together at work and outside of work. I've mourned as pets have died, someone's sister's dog died, as a mother aged. Rejoiced as one mother moved back to Lafayette. Worried about a spouse's loss of job, change in job, a spouse's broken bones. Felt concern as parents adapted to the loss of their spouse or worried about a father who keeps cutting his hand on his ladder.
We've talked politics, religion, worried about finances and cars. We've solved problems at work and at home. Discussed wall paint colors, kids' activities, and given an endless number of product endorsements to each other. We've worried about each other, grumbled about each other, worked to ignore each others' flaws, comforted each other but most of all loved each other (most of the time!). These people are important to me! They're my work family and my friends AND those two groups are subsets of each other and I know that's rare. Very rare!
After college I went to work for a local optometrist. A recent retiree from the English Department had taken a part-time job in that office. Her replacement didn't work out well and left and the department asked her to return to her old job. And she did. It wasn't long until there was an opening here and she asked me to apply. That was in 1984 and I've been here since (changing jobs once in that time). That group of people from last night? Two of the people there (excluding spouses, partners, etc.) were hired by other people. The others I was lucky enough to hire and some have stayed here and some have moved on but still we maintain our relationships. I am honored to have these people in my life and I'm so thankful to have been hired by that optometrist which in turn moved me to the English Department and gave me the opportunity to corral such great people into one place. And that, in turn, gave us a great night last night.
Life is good.
These people are huge parts of my life. We've been huge parts of each other's lives. Some I've known 20+ years and most of them for over 12 years.
We've been through divorces, marriages, birth of a child, birth of grandchildren, and deaths of parents and loved ones and other family members. We've experienced a child's tongue piercing, we know whose mother makes great pies, purchased jewelry together, shared recipes, shopped, spent time together at work and outside of work. I've mourned as pets have died, someone's sister's dog died, as a mother aged. Rejoiced as one mother moved back to Lafayette. Worried about a spouse's loss of job, change in job, a spouse's broken bones. Felt concern as parents adapted to the loss of their spouse or worried about a father who keeps cutting his hand on his ladder.
We've talked politics, religion, worried about finances and cars. We've solved problems at work and at home. Discussed wall paint colors, kids' activities, and given an endless number of product endorsements to each other. We've worried about each other, grumbled about each other, worked to ignore each others' flaws, comforted each other but most of all loved each other (most of the time!). These people are important to me! They're my work family and my friends AND those two groups are subsets of each other and I know that's rare. Very rare!
After college I went to work for a local optometrist. A recent retiree from the English Department had taken a part-time job in that office. Her replacement didn't work out well and left and the department asked her to return to her old job. And she did. It wasn't long until there was an opening here and she asked me to apply. That was in 1984 and I've been here since (changing jobs once in that time). That group of people from last night? Two of the people there (excluding spouses, partners, etc.) were hired by other people. The others I was lucky enough to hire and some have stayed here and some have moved on but still we maintain our relationships. I am honored to have these people in my life and I'm so thankful to have been hired by that optometrist which in turn moved me to the English Department and gave me the opportunity to corral such great people into one place. And that, in turn, gave us a great night last night.
Life is good.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Saved By A Toga
Today started out a little low for me.
My dog Gracie (14 years old) is a wonderful and delightful little dog. She's a miniature schnauzer. She's nearly deaf as a post and her eyesight is greatly diminished by cataracts. She sleeps alot, can't get up on furniture any more and can only get into bed because I have doggy steps and an antique trunk at the foot of the bed. She's now having cognitive issues and I've been trying to explain them away due to her eyesight, or thirst in the night, or a gazillion other things. Sadly, I'm realizing that it's not eyesight related but that she's old and doing things an old lady might. Oh, how I hate this happening. And I worry that maybe I should dig her grave now before the earth freezes as hard as concrete. I don't know that she's going to go this winter but what if she does? I'm horrified at cremation and can't do that. Wouldn't just leave her at the vet's office or put out in the trash can at the curb. Couldn't keep her in the freezer until spring.
I love this shirt I'm wearing and sorta like the pants, too. Somehow the shirt is looking a bit too short and I'm feeling peeved at that. Silly and shallow me is having a bad clothes day. Good grief. How can I allow that to color my day?
Christmas is coming and I won't be with my cousins Megan and Todd this year. It seems unfathomable. Life changes. Life situations change. The characters in life change. I'm as welcoming of this change in my life as Gracie is when she realizes that the water running in the bathtub is for her and that a bath is imminent.
Buck up. Gut it up and go. Do it. You have no choice. Things Mom and Gabby (my maternal grandmother for those who don't know) raised me up saying/preaching/using as a mantra sometimes sternly, other times softly comforting me. I'm good at this. Really, I am. There are some days where it's just a little harder than usual to buck up.
And today I found a wonderful picture in a FB message. It came from Steve Merriam and dates to the late 1990's and was taken at a toga party at my old house. I told everyone to bring a sheet. They didn't know why....just thought it was a regular party. When they arrived I ushered them to the bedroom and they had to fashion a toga and wear it the rest of the evening. Some were creative, some uninspired, some risque! It was a fun summer night and my neighbors in a very bluecollar, working neighborhood didn't quite know what to make of it! I lived on a corner lot so we were really visible out cavorting in the yard in our sheets. Neilson tv ratings in my neighborhood that night were probably rockbottom. I think most houses had faces pressed to the windows watching the freaky neighbor and her friends!
So, it's amazing when some great little thing shows up in life just when you really need it. The picture from Steve couldn't have come at a more perfect time. Sadness and worry over Gracie have been relegated to a pigeon hole in my brain to be brought out and mulled over later. My short shirt is just getting yanked down a lot. The difficulty of the upcoming Christmas is lessened a little in knowing that memories--whether of a friend and a long-past party or decades of Christmas trees, presents, laughter, and fun with my cousins--remain. Those memories are wonderful little gifts I can pull up when I need them most.
Steve--thank you. You've turned my day around once again, much like the olden days!
My dog Gracie (14 years old) is a wonderful and delightful little dog. She's a miniature schnauzer. She's nearly deaf as a post and her eyesight is greatly diminished by cataracts. She sleeps alot, can't get up on furniture any more and can only get into bed because I have doggy steps and an antique trunk at the foot of the bed. She's now having cognitive issues and I've been trying to explain them away due to her eyesight, or thirst in the night, or a gazillion other things. Sadly, I'm realizing that it's not eyesight related but that she's old and doing things an old lady might. Oh, how I hate this happening. And I worry that maybe I should dig her grave now before the earth freezes as hard as concrete. I don't know that she's going to go this winter but what if she does? I'm horrified at cremation and can't do that. Wouldn't just leave her at the vet's office or put out in the trash can at the curb. Couldn't keep her in the freezer until spring.
I love this shirt I'm wearing and sorta like the pants, too. Somehow the shirt is looking a bit too short and I'm feeling peeved at that. Silly and shallow me is having a bad clothes day. Good grief. How can I allow that to color my day?
Christmas is coming and I won't be with my cousins Megan and Todd this year. It seems unfathomable. Life changes. Life situations change. The characters in life change. I'm as welcoming of this change in my life as Gracie is when she realizes that the water running in the bathtub is for her and that a bath is imminent.
Buck up. Gut it up and go. Do it. You have no choice. Things Mom and Gabby (my maternal grandmother for those who don't know) raised me up saying/preaching/using as a mantra sometimes sternly, other times softly comforting me. I'm good at this. Really, I am. There are some days where it's just a little harder than usual to buck up.
And today I found a wonderful picture in a FB message. It came from Steve Merriam and dates to the late 1990's and was taken at a toga party at my old house. I told everyone to bring a sheet. They didn't know why....just thought it was a regular party. When they arrived I ushered them to the bedroom and they had to fashion a toga and wear it the rest of the evening. Some were creative, some uninspired, some risque! It was a fun summer night and my neighbors in a very bluecollar, working neighborhood didn't quite know what to make of it! I lived on a corner lot so we were really visible out cavorting in the yard in our sheets. Neilson tv ratings in my neighborhood that night were probably rockbottom. I think most houses had faces pressed to the windows watching the freaky neighbor and her friends!
So, it's amazing when some great little thing shows up in life just when you really need it. The picture from Steve couldn't have come at a more perfect time. Sadness and worry over Gracie have been relegated to a pigeon hole in my brain to be brought out and mulled over later. My short shirt is just getting yanked down a lot. The difficulty of the upcoming Christmas is lessened a little in knowing that memories--whether of a friend and a long-past party or decades of Christmas trees, presents, laughter, and fun with my cousins--remain. Those memories are wonderful little gifts I can pull up when I need them most.
Steve--thank you. You've turned my day around once again, much like the olden days!
Monday, December 10, 2012
Choosing a name for this was important and tough. For years and years the most common line going through my head has been "Do I have enough lipstick on?" I considered that but wasn't sure it was the right thing. (I'll probably reserve that to be chiseled onto my tombstone.) Knew it wouldn't be something like "Blonde Ramblings" or "DogLover1977." So I looked around at home.....sorta like the old stories you hear about naming Native American Children. Snow on Branch. Quivering Moon. Full Litterbox. Nope. Still not right. I have two pairs of leopard house slippers. The slip-on, clog/scuff kind....not the glamorous starlet kind. One pair has seen better days and the other pair long ago saw better days.
Many of you know me as a strong supporter and proud wearer of flipflops no matter the season. You may not know that I've a fondness for slippers as well but *only* when it's cold. The first pair I really remember was in grade school and I got them for Christmas from Uncle Merle and Dorothy. They were beautiful. The kind of beautiful that maybe you shouldn't wear. Maybe they should be up on top of the dresser so you could sneak quick peeks of them from time to time and then maybe get them down and wear while you sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling. They were light blue leather. Gold studs danced across the instep and down onto the toe area. And the most wonderful part? OMG....they were lined with rabbit fur dyed light blue to match. I was in heaven. And I had a light blue and white floral quilted robe with pearlized snaps on the bodice. Well, you can imagine just how special I felt. I felt taller. And glamorous. And sophisticated. Uh-huh, right glamorous. At that age Mom still made me wear hats and even headscarves tied under my chin on windy days. I was losing teeth and entering those awkward years. Oh, but put me in those slippers and that coordinating robe and I floated around the house. I wore those slippers. And wore them. Wore them for so many hours a day that the baby blue rabbit fur was sweaty and flattened. By morning it had regained its fluffiness and I was back in business. I wore them until the ends of my toes started feeling like Chinese bound feet. Eventually they were retired and I mourned them. Fast Forward to my late teen years. I loved Lanz flannel nightgowns. Got a pattern and started making my own nightgowns. Still a house slipper fan and a fan of wanting things coordinated, I started making slipcovers for my slippers out of extra fabric so that I had matching nightgowns and slippers. (Feel free to laugh. I know. I've always been odd like this.)
So, the latest incarnation of house slippers is leopard. As one pair gets worn and the cushioning is flattened, I buy another pair but keep the original pair as a backup pair in another part of the house. When one totally hits the Wall of Death it's thrown out and a new pair is added and the former best pair is demoted to backup. It's a much less complicated process than this is sounding.
The work day is almost over and I'll be heading home soon. You needn't ask. Yes, I'll be padding around the house in leopard house slippers.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
And So It Begins......
Ok, I'm starting this. Ken Thompson and Marianne Boruch--you've encouraged me to write. Maybe it's even almost verged on (dare I say it?) nagging. I feel like I've walked into an empty house and I have all this bare space to arrange and rearrange my furniture words. Will anyone even want to come to my house? How will they know where I live....how to find this Blog House of Words?
I love Ritz crackers. That was one of the staples at home when I was growing up. And saltines and cottage cheese. And cheese to put on any of those crackers. I'm not OCD but always just ate Ritz crackers with the top side up. You know the top side.....a little darker, more topographic than the bottom side, and there's a dusting of salt. So, one time recently I went a little rogue (gasp!) and ate it upside down! The salted side went face first, smack flat down on my tongue. WOW! It was different. It tasted slightly different!
So, it's all about perception. The same thing but different. I love to sit on my back porch. So much to listen to. And when I close my eyes I hear sooo much more. I can isolate the sounds. Hear the difference in the birds' voices, locate creaking tree branches, hear kids playing a street over, listen for the dogs and be able to tell they're getting closer to me because the clicking of their toenails grows almost imperceptibly louder.
And so this begins. Perception. Words. Upside down crackers.
I love Ritz crackers. That was one of the staples at home when I was growing up. And saltines and cottage cheese. And cheese to put on any of those crackers. I'm not OCD but always just ate Ritz crackers with the top side up. You know the top side.....a little darker, more topographic than the bottom side, and there's a dusting of salt. So, one time recently I went a little rogue (gasp!) and ate it upside down! The salted side went face first, smack flat down on my tongue. WOW! It was different. It tasted slightly different!
So, it's all about perception. The same thing but different. I love to sit on my back porch. So much to listen to. And when I close my eyes I hear sooo much more. I can isolate the sounds. Hear the difference in the birds' voices, locate creaking tree branches, hear kids playing a street over, listen for the dogs and be able to tell they're getting closer to me because the clicking of their toenails grows almost imperceptibly louder.
And so this begins. Perception. Words. Upside down crackers.
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