from the sad to the dreamy

Once the rain comes, it's fine. But the anticipation makes me pensive. That's what Corina said, "You're pensive."

That was two days ago, the pensive me.

And now the air feels fresh and dewy and my curly hair likes it and my mind is less melancholy.

Making things helps. I keep writing on legs. I see legs and I see a soft, sexy space to write.

And then a couple of days ago I started to make a leggy alphabet. Cut-outs from mags, not my own legs. Which are currently swathed in black, soft corduroy because it's practically winter outside. Long sleeves too. And clogs. All black. All the time.

It takes five steps to walk from the couch (aka guest room) to the front door. It takes three steps to climb the six rungs to get up to the sleeping loft. Sitting on the couch, it just takes a reach to open the oven. 10x10 is a small space to live in, but I love it.

Although the rain does make it feel like luxury camping or something.

Which also makes it feel like vacation. Makes it feel like: It's raining, it's two in the afternoon...let's have cocktails and play Scrabble.

And I won, I won. Two games in a row. Sorry, boy.

Victory is sweet, but playing games is just good fun. Everyone in the world needs more time to play board games.