You are currently browsing the daily archive for January 24, 2006.


I’m so glad I bought that basil. Posted by Picasa

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The man behind me? A complete stranger. But I love this picture, especially amped up with some extra warmth.  Posted by Picasa


Now for some actual self portraits. Although Bee has to take the actual picture-taking credit. London 2002, with basil. Posted by Picasa

 
There are always those times when you attach a huge significance to a certain date. It resonates in your head for months in anticipation. You don’t have to stop and think in order to answer a question like “when do you leave?” And then the same thing happens with the day you come back.

And then you find yourself four years later thinking, has it really been four years? And when did I leave again? And the date is gone. You pull out your notebook from January 2002. You flip through days that sound vaguely familiar, like something you once read in a book.

And if you open the photograph album and see the house you once lived in for three months, it looks only familiar.

Until you remember that you only took it on your last day, on your way to the High Street Kensington tube station with your backpack on an April morning. That the park was at your back and to one side of the building was the line of visa applicants outside the Dutch embassy. Until you remember what you kept in your kitchen cabinets, and the feel of the wallpaper, and the step up to the bathroom, and talking on the phone at the bottom of the stairs, and pulling the couch out on to the balcony on a warm day. Posted by Picasa

You are the first result if you google “hot hors orderves recipes.” Try saying that out loud.

I would like to have you all think that I was sunk into such a great, deep depression after awakening at the crack of dawn yesterday (actually before the crack of dawn, since it was 6 am Pacific) to find out what won, particularly the Newbery but also the other lovely awards, that I could not bring myself to share my reactions. Because who wants that kind of anger and disgust?

What actually happened was that I got up about 8:30 yesterday, well after the crack of dawn, and went for a run with Kate, and then we ate an apple pancake and drank some coffee, and then she went to class and I opened up all the windows and started cleaning the house. Never once did I think, “I wonder what won the Newbery?” as I have been doing compulsivly for the past several weeks. I didn’t even turn on my computer.

It wasn’t until this bright sunny morning (sun! I’d forgotten about the sun! It still exists!) that I glanced at my bookshelves, lined as they are with Newbery winners & honor books, and wondered, “what will win the Newbery?” Suddenly the realization dawned on me that I could find out so I rushed to my computer, to Kate’s confusion, and swore. Loudly.

Criss Cross?

Whittington?

Princess Academy?

I am glad that Hitler Youth got two honors – Newbery and Sibert – but otherwise the whole experience was pretty damn disappointing.

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