It’s snowed off and on all day, today, and it just hailed for about three minutes—and it’s done.  This is spring break week, and after a couple days of pure responsibility-shirking, I’m trying to get back on the job.  I have a book review due next Monday on a book about eugenics in America, and I sat at Java all morning reading it and making horrified notes.  Eugenics was horrifying.  Leftover ideology from that national/international discourse is horrifying.

So I ran some errands: dropped off dry cleaning for the first time in my life (ever) (I felt so grown-up), dropped off film from our trip to Seattle over New Year’s, and got a chicken.  All the while listening to Desertshore’s album Drawing of Threes.  Sometimes things like snow coming down hard on wet, black pavement will stop me, and I have to sit in a parking lot and write.  That happened.

It’s been a full day—a day I want to call “a wash,” because I spent too much money and didn’t get enough of that book read, but—whatever.  I saw beautiful things, today, and thought about suffering and mercy.  I sat in my car at Earthfare and wrote about the deterioration of the body, the persistent hope for more life.  I’m now sitting in my quiet kitchen, peppermint tea steeping in a teacup, about to get up and rub olive oil and pepper into the strange skin of a fryer.

Also, I got a “home furnishings” catalog in the mail today from Target, and it’s a total rip-off of Anthropologie.  It made me laugh out loud.   It’s called “Threshold”—has anybody seen it?