It is really gray here. I might as well have moved to Portland a while back, coz the weather in MoCo gives P-ville a shot at the designation of "balmy." Comparatively, at least. However, lest I curse myself into a profound malaise, these unending rains have produced some loverly rainbows, as Skep indicated. The double arcs first appeared in the eastern sky on Tuesday. Jennifer and I were sitting in the living room, harboring something of a sullen aspect in relation to the taxation of our jobs, when we saw them. Stepping to the outside produced even more excitement and spirit-lifting, as these bows of rain were altogether imposing in their scope and beauty. We have a pair of young boys (4 and 8 years old, I think) down the street who like to hang around, so I went down to knock on their door so they wouldn't miss out. The youngest, Bill, evinced such innocent amazement and awe it was palpable and infectious. Rainbows are good. Little kids are good. Especially when they have another house to which to return.

5 prepositional phrases in one sentence up there. I don't know whether I am impressed with myself or embarrassed.

I want a Star Trek transporter so I can bop back and forth from ClintJam to the Garden Party.

Licia is here. Yay.

"Having a house and land won't magically transform your lifestyle into something simpler." So sez JimA, with Heidi's concurrence. My agreement is forthcoming as well, yet I feel the need to clarify: In my previous blog, I said buying land in the country would make us more self-sufficient, not render our lives simpler. Simple fact is, we can't really grow veggies at our own house because we haven't any sunlight (although we have a wicked cool sharecroppin' deal with JimA and Dani). The lack of sunlight also precludes any real work toward installing solar panels, something we will do at the mythical Sunflower House. Hell, I'd like to do some geothermal, as well. I don't pretend that these things will make me happier or simplify my life in and of themselves, but they will be steps toward living in line with my principles.

Here's another poem.

"Scrapbook Pictures"

There is no way
That the eyes in your young
Photographs
Could have known me
Or anticipated
The coming of us.
You smiled/giggled/danced
And tossed permed hair
Skyward
You reached out hands
Touched faces, bodies,
Other hands…
Smunched face into disgust
And delight-
You took energy
Built energy
Sucked air and pressed
To its core the very soul
Of life and how to live it.

The eyes closed and blinked
Opened and saw pretty things
And remembered them.

On the day the eyes opened
And fell upon my form.
The arriving was complete
With the tumbling time-
Spilling memory of today
Into our hands.