stirrup pants, a barge, and a teacup that never sleeps

it can always be felt, that tenderly approaching sickness:::::making it a weekend, barely remembered.




it's sometimes a good excuse, to stay in and patch all those holes in your jeans, or plan out your future on some cardboard with cutouts and paints and make a nice collage of your childhood dreams. or lament in your bathtub about this that and the other.




things happened though:::that were quite interesting:::




i've always been interested in water and boats really do make my knees weak. i took a wee trip down memory trail and thought a lot this weekend about my time out on The Washington Coast. Just three weeks. It wasn't a:::


BICYCLE TRIP ACROSS EUROPE

or a

TEACHING JOB IN SOUTH ASIA

or a

CLIMBING TRIP IN THE ANDES

or a

RAFTING DOWN THE FUCK KNOWS RIVER IN BRITISH COLUMBIA



I was alone, with a bag, and my severely pious thoughts. There was a cat named Chloe. I walked everywhere and I took buses. I was happy and autonomous.





and I think I hear about all these trips that people take, or adventures and I feel bad for our generation, that we feel this need to do these extravagant things. That making a life, finding a daily existence that we enjoy is, not enough. That building a family, and building a career now maintain these negative characteristics.





To be honest, I think people who travel too much are boring. Tell me about the way your skin feels in a seasonal change, or the taste of first autumn squash soup, or how it hurts sometimes when the small child says those cutting words, and or you read a really great book and bought some new levis and "hey" let's go out tonight to the usual spot for the usual drinks with the usual crowd. There's something to this.





I think once you know a place, it's climate, it's behavior, it's people---then you can begin to live. Really, those who know one place and one place alone, might have more substance in their internal regions than those who have seen and heard and tasted things from the farthest regions.




Then again, I do love exotic things.




i suppose, as all things, a balance sustains.




I did start with boats though:::wanting to tell you about the barge I watched go by on the delaware. Alongside were tugboats, their lights delicate and particular, the goods loaded many and high on the top deck. I thought, yes, someday soon I would like to be on a boat. I would like my mundane to be in movement. I would like to smell the salty sea every morning, with a cup of coffee, and have a hard days work ahead of me.




But for now, I can watch. And get my nails done--painted with--a soft brown---




DOWN TO MY VERY LAST PENNY.






K





ps. I SAW STIRRUP PANTS YESTERDAY.


THEY ARE BACK.