FOR THE WEEK OF JULY 5-11
WHAT I’M READING: I am re-reading Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson. I forgot how funny she was. Highly recommended book if you’re looking for something that reads quickly with sass but also tackles difficult issues. An excerpt:
My mother liked to wrestle; it didn’t matter what…She had never heard of mixed feelings. There were friends and there were enemies.
Enemies were: The Devil (in his many forms), Next Door, Sex (in its many forms), Slugs
Friends were: God, Our dog, Auntie Madge, The Novels of Charlotte Bronte, Slug pellets
WHAT ELSIE’S READING: Take out menus, any issue of Macleans she can get her hands on, the lines on our faces…
WHAT I’M WATCHING: The snippets of Michael Jackson footage. This is the tree where he wrote his songs. This is the room where he went into cardiac arrest. Our motives are pure?
WHAT I’M LISTENING TO: A boy talking to his dog: “No, that’s not for you, Jerry. You think it’s poo. Wait, you like poo. But you won’t like my chocolate ice cream.” I can’t wait until Elsie talks.
WHAT I’M WEARING: Not enough sun screen apparently. I have exceeded my vitamin D requirement these last few days. It stopped raining and I was too jubilant; my freckles are crying for mercy.
WHAT I’M EATING: Fried egg + whole wheat tortilla + one delicate squirt of ketchup = lunch heaven. Tofu + buckwheat and sweet potato pasta + diced tomatoes + basil = dinner nirvana.
WHAT I’M ENJOYING: Summer in Toronto and something called a breeze. Last summer I was enduring the heat of Riverside, CA with my womb child. Have I mentioned that the currents of air trickle in the most pathetic fashion in Riverside?
WHAT I’M SNIFFING: Carpet cleaner. Yum. Let’s just say Frannie the cat has some health issues.
3 Comments
Hey — let’s not get snippy about Riverside, Missy Miss. Don’t forget the pool. . .
Yes, the pool was a delight. I hope you’re enjoying it as we speak. That would surely make me jealous.
Interesting that the Michael Jackson story is also huge news even in such places as Bolivia–I was in an obscure cafe called Picasso´s last night eating burruitos and they were playing his tunes –he certainly could find the groove of a song and was an amazing dancer –a talented, troubled soul that the world loved to follow.
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