Mindboggling!
Hundreds of injuries were reported after bright objects streaked through the sky over the Russian city of Chelyabinsk on Friday, along with a loud boom that damaged buildings, said the Times.
This is the website that posted one of the photos. I spent awhile on it until I realized the baby needed to be changed. Oops! That was 39 years ago.
Anyone know what language it's written in? Iris, you're pretty smart. Take a guess. (She's the only one who comments on my blog.)
I was a very fearful child and read in a Life Mag article about a meteor that struck in Arizona. I would lie awake trembling with fright that one would strike on Marlindale Road in Cleveland Heights.
What am I drinking now? The best g'dam tea I have ever had.
Oops that my Rolodex. More about dat later.
It's called Bengal Spice. Made of carob, black pepper, cinnamon, cardomom and other spices. Exquisite.
I brewed some for Linda Barrett and myself when she came over earlier today. We're getting our work ready to enter into a Montgomery County Writing Contest. I critiqued her story "A Time for Love" which is terrific. She has no idea how to use punctuation, so I had to show her, and sent her an email explaining how to use quote marks.
She walked here from her house in Abington, PA. B/c it's such a beautiful day, I told her to wait a sec and changed out of my PJs and walked her part-way home, and then went round my hilly hilly block and on home.
Then I finished a new short story called "The Door of Justice," called Judy L to read it to her, which she pronounced wonderful. I'll submit it online and expect an immediately rejection.
As you may know, I have 2 phones here. One is permanently off the hook so I won't hear it ring. That's the New Directions phone, down in the brrr-cold lower level of my house.
As soon as I heard his soft, low voice, I knew who it was.
Yep, Jonathan Katz from our days at Goddard College.
Oh, the memories I have of him! He drove a light blue Corvair, straight from the pages of Fred Flintstone. The two of us once drove to a college in Middlebury, VT, to watch a performance of Mack the Knife.
We talked about old times. Wendy Davidson, the Surovells, and, best of all, our mescaline trip.
We were probly in our late teens or early 20s.
It was so fantastic I wrote in my Red Diary about it for 40 pages. It's quite like being psychotic, except its far far better b/c it was so very pleasant.
So, we're at someone's house in Plainfield, VT. I'm with Jonathan, the late Dan Kelly, and Wendy Davidson, my best friend.
"I'm leaving," said Wendy. "I don't wanna be here when you guys get crazy."
We lick the white powder of mescaline off a record album.
Nothing happens.
We do it again and again.
"Oh my God," I say. "I understand how our memory works," I say softly.
"Can you see it?" I ask the boys.
Dan Kelly's face has turned into that of a beautiful lion.
Jon Katz, co-author with David Mamet, of one of the best films ever - House of Games - suggests we walk outside in the night.
I was still sitting there watching how my memory worked - it was simply tiny cards that were shuffled and shuffled to get to the right answer. Wouldn't that be hilarious if scientists found this were actually true.
Walking outside in the dark night, the air was filled with tiny colored dots.
"Look at all the electrons filling the air!" I said, as we trod across ground of impossibly beautiful tapestry like a Persian rug.
We also stopped in the Goddard Library. A high level of trust exists at Goddard. The door was open and we explored the three-story (?) library in a state of wonder and stupefaction.
I found a book I liked and since there was no one to check it out, I walked out with it, took it home to Englewood Cliffs, NJ, where we lived back then, but mailed it back.
Like Nixon, I ain't no crook.
Altho the mescaline - derived from the peyote cactus - wore off by the next day, I was "stoned" for 6 weeks thereafter, a feeling I did not enjoy at all.
When I went to buy toilet paper last nite, I discovered that Scott Tissue is possibly the first to be made w/o the center cardboard tube.
Great way to save money, but sad for little kids who often make things out of it in school.
Here's my son Dan, 36, horsing around with Grace Catherine, who's now 2 and a half.
Boyfriend Scott, who lives next door in the blue house, bought me this boom box for Valentine's Day. He knows my old one just broke and I listen to audio tapes while I'm in the kitchen. He'll show me how to use it later today.
Thru my living room window, I see my outdoor thermometer - nearly 50 degrees - but we're expecting snow again. You can see that it's all melted.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, if you'll excuse me it's time for my afternoon nap with Scott. I fall asleep upon impact, while it takes him all of an hour.
He leaves for work at 8 pm and arrives home at 8:40 a.m.
He's my guy!
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