bright grey

not much to report from here today. it's a brighter grey than yesterday, and no rain.
and we'll go hear good music tonight: lucy kaplansky and susan.

so. i think i'll take a nap.
the end for now...

dad and trains.

it's nearly midnight. by the time i go to bed, it will be september 26 here. for the rest of my family, there is a bit more breath-holding. they've got six more hours of wait until what may be release, a permission to bring out the sackcloth again. maybe we'll cry and look at pictures. maybe we'll relive the blue skies of the day, five years ago, that we became fatherless and widow. i don't know. but i'm in the future, it feels like, and i'm waving from the other side of midnight, saying "hi mom. hi peg, cath, eileen...he's missed over the atlantic as well."

september 26 is the lonely drone of a steam locomotive.

i wrote the following three years ago, on a plane to california, mostly. it turned out to be the first thing i ever published. and it turned out to be my first fruits of grief released to other eyes. and so it only feels right to offer it up again, flawed little piece of writing that it is. it's a tealight in a paper boat placed on the atlantic to my family. i hope it floats...

[note: dumb blogger apparently has a word limit per post (who knew!) so i've posted it HERE.]

awake

it's around nine am. i've been awake for about an hour. this must mean that i am feeling better. i am breathing through both nostrils simultaneously, and i have woken up not cursing the sunshine or the fact that it is one pm and i've missed half the day. this is good news.

yesterday was a good day of shopping at city centre with james. and i was able to purchase a handy little power cord for THREE pounds (you hear that, curtis?) and now i am officially wired with my little laptop, on which i am typing right now. so, i am back online and with instant messenger as well, so it's almost as though i never left...

it's nice to be back. it's unspeakably good to have your own laptop with all your own familiar thingees--almost like marlei's all-healing, yellow, cozy blanket.

today has started off sunny--blindingly so. one dog is barking and there is quiet birdsong amongst various choking car-starts. the kids must be at school, because i hear no yelling in the lot behind the house and no annoying icecream truck. there must be a local ice cream addiction here, because this damned truck comes by several times every day, blaring to the point of distortion the battle hymn of the republic. (the glorious call to ice cream??)

susan, james, and i plan on spending the afternoon in crawfordsburn [read: local hangout of cs lewis, jonathan swift--the writer, not my former chordant mate--van morrison, etc.] where we'll have a lovely pint or two. and i have heard rumors of a possible waterfront walk. nice.

oh yeah, forgot to mention: anne made dinner last night. and no one (i don't think) died.

sunshine and good wine, er whiskey

well, it is sunny day number three in belfast, which is quite healing to a girl with an annoying cold. the endless cups of lemsip and hot totties and various lozenges have all proven helpful, though, as i really think i'm on the mend.

(and an extra special thanks goes to marlei for her all-healing yellow, cozy blanket.)

if i ever get offline (i am basking in the glory of a dialup internet connection), james and i will head into city centre this afternoon for a wee adventure of some sort. it's been nothing but adventure so far. dinner with susan last night, and we watched the 51st state (a must see, with both samuel l. jackson AND meatloaf in liverpool for crying out loud!) before playing a round of shithead.

nothing but fun, even when ill.
behold, the healing power of totties and cardplaying with friends.

i'm sick

i'm writing between coughs, and it's really quite humorous. thank james stewart for his kind heart, as he is sharing his modem and ibook with me right now. we all love james stewart, webmaster extraordinaire...

and now off to dinner.

xo