My Eternal Fame as a Comic Character

So I have, out of necessity, become a new, resurgent character in my brother David's live journal. Rather strange to see how my life intersects with his world in this way. I'm humbled. Honored. And praying I don't say or do anything really dumb that ends up for all those faithful comic-reading buddies I've never met to read. Also, now that he's meeting some of my friends, it's fun to see his representation of them. (Don't worry Aaron, Hidi, Michelle, Neal - I think he likes us.)

All that to say, if I don't keep up so well with my own blog, I have a backup version of for you all. Like two different historic writers, we'll be offering our own points of view on the same span of time and space. Or something.

A Big Fib

A phone conversation with the Word Nerd last night introduced me to the Fib poem. And at her suggestion, here's the first of what will be many to interject into my Daily Haiku project...

Summer Day One: Fireflyfield

Light
bulbs
dangle
amid blades
of dusk darkened grass;
illuminate tiniest worlds

An Away Message

The boxes are dwindling, the boxes are dwindling! I still can't find the book I was reading or my can opener, but thankfully dear brother David has already unpacked both of those categories. He said he'll give me a few more days to get the boxes outta there.

I must officially thank the dear friends who moved my stuff Saturday. It was hot. I fed them chicken. So to Jan, Kenny, Kate, Aaron, David, Mom, and Sharon (for the use of her truck)... You are my heroes!

Great news! Bronte the Cat is doing better than the vet expected. We are cutting back on meds. Hallelujah, 'cause sitting on her three times a day was not fun for either of us.

I so much enjoy that little ball of grey fluff. She loves the windows at the new place. Still intimidated by our cardboard kingdom, though, as she is even more often underfoot or sitting by by side.

I hope to be back to reveal more of this exciting life (and the poetry challenge from the WordNerd from the last entry) soon.

Not a Painter

Pealing the masking tape from the newly painted "Green Twig" walls of my brother's room at our new duplex, the author realizes she's not perfect. Primer shows through in spongey reverse blotches. Even painter's tape isn't enough to keep all the baseboard lines crisp and clean. And yes, there is at least one splotch on the white ceiling. But I refuse to do another coat.

Do you hear me, oh sprites of guilt and imperfection? I refuse!

Besides, I don't have time.

David actually is unloading into the house today. Now we are waiting to see how God takes care of a little car thingy (I don't even want to call it an issue and give it any credence). I'll just say that this is a great testimony in the making.

And I hope my mom isn't reading this, 'cause it tends to maker her nervous when I say such things.

Define Home

Last night I picked up the keys for the house that my brother David and I are moving into this month. Now it's real. I really have to put every plate and sock and picture frame in boxes and haul it all across town. I know for certain the nesting syndrome is setting in. I have BIG PLANS. Starting with doing laundry without quarters and planting irisis in the dirt I'm renting. If I can figure how to do pictures... Maybe you'll get to see some of my handiwork.

Day 365

Started the Haiku-a-day project 06/06/05. And to quote Karin and Linford again... "I thought that we'd be further along by now..." somewhere in the recesses of my brain I thought that I'd feel different or at least have some greater understanding of life in general. You know, like how I thought turning 25 would automatically grant me a comprehension of a century.

Instead, I'll just grant you with Haiku number 365:

String me some pearls. Chase
beauty in shades of sand and
secrets, stone and time.