this is water, this is water, this is water...

this morning, i got started rambling late, in the full heat, and had to stop and drink a gas station lemonade in the shady little pocket cemetery across the street. there's brumbelows and nesbits in there, but no holcombs. i keep hoping i'll wander into the holcomb family plots somewhere around here, but actual research would be cheating at this point

kakek, at the gas station, wouldn't accept the foraged, possibly lightly pilfered, gift card i had for my lemonade, but he did knock a dollar off the price and pocket the cash i gave him

a half dozen glute bridges i did to loosen up a stiff back last week, have somehow resolved the sleep breaking ache in my knees that would only come on in the middle of the night

last night, i dreamt i was living in the old house, empty of most all our belongings, the way i did those last few month before it sold. in the old family room with its tall ceiling, i built an egg shaped shelter that neatly filled the room, and i skinned it with cedar shake, and i lived there until i awoke

trying to remember the name of the irish story that describes a woman walking home after getting a tooth pulled. maybe it was scottish. i don't mean to be ping-pong, just that they're in adjacent drawers in this mind. i can picture the cabinet, i just can't seem to find the room

i sat down in the wrong kind of sun. i want to move to the shady bench where i planned to wait, but it might be too late

i'm not late though. i'll still be on time, just sweatier than i intended

this week's intrusive craving has been a mission burrito in the mission

during my rambles, i've eaten most of three pints of foraged wild blackberries straight from the cane, and i have fine thorny scratches up my arms and legs to show for it

i learned that in the mirror world they might actually say "knuckle-butty"

last night, i dreamt i was drinking a cup of coffee and experienced the sense of taste in a dream for the first time ever. it was bad diner coffee, and i marveled at the badness of it in my dream, and when i awoke

the heat dome descended on us this morning. i'm not sure how long its meant to last

we always get my dad the cards with fake swears, but i don't think he's noticed

i never thought about how it's a little too on the nose when the solstice lands on a sunday. the kind of thing that happens pretty regular, but just too cute for the plot of movie

this week, we had little arthur bring in lot's of rain and wet, filling the woods with mushrooms. i ate wild blackberries by the handful

on wednesday, i got the on the calculation of volume(s) I and II handed on to me from @shortladyleggers. i'm grateful and excited to get started in on them. finn came by that night and we watched some baseball together. we talked a little and caught but mostly we sat quiet together. it was a really good day

on thursday night, i dreamt of cars made with whole living people bolted inside, confined inextricably, but extended visibly around the edges of the seats, the doors, the body panels on all sides. the space they took made the cars hard to use, taking up all the room where a passenger's feet should go, blocking the doors from opening all the way. the dream felt like a nightmare until i looked into one's face. their peaceful expression of bliss confused me so much, i awoke

last night for rage, we ate motor city pizzas ,drank dollar bucket nonsense, and talked about green lightning, the death of chihiro, the capacity of small venues, and spear high privet. we talked about mount everestone mountain, st john's wort's shrubbery, title fraud granny, loud cousins, and all kinds of lizard business. we didn't talk about bootleg coin laundry crackers or deadname popeye's specials, but we didn't not talk about them either. i had a good visit with two-fry. she showed me her big jump and loved the new treats i brought her so much that she killt them. it was so nice

for a while now, i've been ready to wander down to the possum trot to forage free coffee and maybe a donut, and see-who-to-say-hi-to, but boba hadn't been ready to let me go, but now she is

yesterday, i long rambled the mushroom path, ate this-plate-is-very-hot fajitas, read a book about nantucket basket weaving practices, and then boba and i saved the world. it was a good day

last night i dreamt i was living in a rambling old share house, like the one where uma lived in sydämen koti. we were having an open house, an art show, a huge party, and in the middle of it i found my grandmother, my short, round, finnish lake witch grandma, not my tall, angular, adirondack mountain witch grandma. she had moved into the small room, an old cupboard, off of the kitchen. i got to hug her and walk her through the house, showing her all the lovely people and all the lovely things. the crowds of guests parted as we walked through, everyone taking extra care not to jostle the old lady. i don't dream about her often, once a year maybe, but it's always so nice when i do. i could still feel the hug when i woke up.