Forsythia

Forsythia blooming. I tried to photograph the Japanese Magnolia exploding blooms in our front yard, but it was weird - it wouldn't photograph. The f-stop kept coming out all wrong. "Hell with this," I eventually said. So here's the Forsythia instead.

Yesterday a jet pilot named Chris came and bought a lawnmower, three chairs, our old kitchen table, a tiny end table, a couple of window shades, and a bookcase that was so big it held half our book collection. In the course of our dealings, I learned that he had just divorced and was trying to set up a new apartment for himself. Nice guy, but as soon as he said "divorce" a wraith of sadness seemed to linger about three feet above our heads. His twelve year old daughter was with him. She picked out the end table for her room. Joint custody.

Chris was middle aged and spoke with the voice of Mike Brady. Perfect for a jet pilot. I kept imagining him saying, "We're now at an altitude of 30,000 feet..." and almost asked him to "do a talk" like John Lurie asks Tom Waits to do in Down By Law, but the wraith kept batting my ideas down with his scythe of sadness.

I gave Chris a hell of a deal. He walked away with all that stuff for a cool $200. I wished him luck, and he said "Good luck with writing." Then, getting into his car, he said, "Have a good life," while Janelle & Eleanor watched from the back porch. It was just about the most depressing thing I have ever seen - a newly divorced father getting into his old beat up Cutlass full of secondhand furniture for his new apartment, his doe-eyed daughter sitting shotgun, waving and saying "Have a good life." I liked having that $200 in my front pocket, though...

Most of that cash is gone now. Lo, for today the Missus and I begin our...ahem...cleanse. I've never done a cleanse before, but so many people swear by them, and now that my acupuncturist and chiropractor are both saying that it's a good idea - that it will actually help ease my seasonal allergies - I'm doing a cleanse. All this really means is that my diet will be drastically altered for the next 28 days. I'm assured that a systemic detoxification of vital organs will occur. I'm assured that I will feel better. I'm assured that, in four weeks, I'll emerge from my cocoon as the Uberman, capable of feats of superhuman strength. Anyway, a cleanse actually costs money, since you hafta buy all kinds of stuff to eat that you wouldn't normally buy. "Anything for the sinuses," I say, skipping my morning coffee and pouring a cup of peppermint tea instead.