all our lives are a little emptier...

The eldest son sums up Tuesday's loss. Mark flies into town on the Red Eye, committed to talking her into death. A gentle diatribe, a tearful confession, a solemn goodbye
Rest in Peace Elsie Virginia ClarkLayton Strong
8/26/26 - 6/24/2008

the end is near

for mama's mortal coil as it begins to back up with bodily fluids and enter post pneumatic sepsis.

hunkered down in a morphine drip of oblivion she awaits her eldest son to magically appear from distant lands before drifting off to join her husband on the other side.

After not seeing or talking to her for six months - the first words out of her mouth when she saw me were:
"you must think I'm dying." that's me mum

from better days...

birf daze

Yesterday my oldest best friend turned 50. Tomorrow my brother Jefe turns 51. The days stretch ever longer as the solstice approaches. a full moon crested yesterday. life returns to its natural rhythms. peace pervails.

Last week /end JEff was in town to see mom (who went into hospital soon after he returned to Wisconsin) Richard & Miles stay a few days bereaving his eldest sister (Diane, Christian's mom.) many libations and sacred rituals later a jam is attempted in the crammed basement...

captured hastily with a portable stereo recorder. the talking between jams is the best parts. an instant classic: Pop Pa Wood y.

work swirls around ESL and Foreign Language classes. punctuated by Lit out Loud and Writer's Block meetings. subtle shifting of alliances and emerging intrigue keep the tension at work palatable. some people. get abused.

Brian tells stories of michigan cougars and his daughter in the news. Her google hits have quadroopled in the last month.

enough with made up words. imagination is inspiration. talk is cheap.

began reading a new slate of books after lingering on two Chinese novels and a book of lyrics.

language