oOMisfitOo
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Wednesday, March 24, 2004

<picture deleted>

I'm stunned by my reaction to the note that landed in my mail box a little while ago.
It's taken me a good ten minutes to write this sentence.
I can't stop ... crying.
 
This is a little about me.  This is a lot about my Nanny.
 
She's your Nanny too ... I take full credit for bringing her here to you.
 
When she and Bruce wandered into a tiny little restaurant where I worked on the coast line in Big Sur a few years ago, I fell in love with them.
Nanny is an angel here on earth, and Bruce is her faithful Knight.  Nanny looked up at me, her tiny frame a bundle of Light and Goodness, her crystal clear eyes twinkling like the star she is ...
 
I haven't spent nearly enough time with them, but they have made time for me.  They've made it a point to stop and see me on several occasions and I have been blessed by them in many ways.
 
You know, Bruce used to write to me.  Little stories.  Vignettes on his day.  Episodic adventures without a real beginning or ending, and they were heartfelt word tapestries unlike anything I've ever seen.  He was my personal John Steinbeck.  He could make a seagull perched on a rock a vivid picture.  At the end of a few paragraphs, he'd leave me feeling as though I'd seen the sun rise with him.  Watched the fog clear, and the boats come into the bay.  I'd smell the ocean air, hear the seals, want to wrap myself in a wool sweater and walk on the sand with my pants rolled up to my knees and look for shells. 
 
He's had a bit of a set back today ... and we've got to send My Nanny (and yours too) a bit of the love she finds for each and every one of us back to them both.
 
I encouraged Bruce to start a Xanga site ... but he would mumble something about not really being a writer, so Nanny took up the conquest of writing a blah-g ...
 
There is a tiny group of us, we're all connected like a spiral.  Eddie and I were very close once upon a time, exceptional friends now ... but he's been a guest in Nanny's home, and felt the love of the Knight and his Lady.  My closest friend on the coast line, Cyndee, has been the recipient of Nanny's hostess goodness ... and James roared through with another group two summers ago (I think it was) on his Ducati then stopped to see me at the urging of the one and only ...
 
Xanga is a spiral of friendship.  Let's extend the spiral into a warm and loving hug around My Nanny (and yours too ...)
 
We love you Nanny.  We're here for you and your knight.  Always. 
 
 
 
 


Wednesday, March 17, 2004

Wow.

It's been three years.

Thank you ...


Lesson learned this week: (thank you Rob ...)

 "If they can get you asking the wrong questions,
 they don't have to worry about the answers."


Thursday, March 11, 2004

What the hell?

I wonder what Anselm Hollo thinks of this?  HUH?

When I was a little girl, I had a little book called RED CATS.  It was number 16 in the pocket poet series.

Anselm translated it.  A group of crazy young poets from Russia had formed something that they called "The Thaw" ... and it was their movement towards freedom.

When I was ten, I carried my little book called RED CATS all over the place, and I didn't understand it much, but I loved it.  I don't know why I loved it, I just did, okay?

And I still love it.  But now I know why!

always treat language like a dangerous toy
-- anselm hollo


Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Let them see if my river won't suit them.
Let them drown.

--John Darnielle



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Ahoy ya land lubber!

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