Today is my mother's seventieth birthday. I stayed the night in Lexington to get up at six in the morning and sing to her before she left the house to collect her grandchild for the afternoon (after which I went back to bed and woke to the sounds of my niece running around what we still call the music room, even though there hasn't been a piano in there for a decade-plus). We gave her presents with cat motifs, books and a vermilion silk scarf. Tonight my father is taking her to Café St. Petersburg so that she can have a little caviar, to be fancy. Her sister sent flowers in a red glass vase. I have seen more movies from the year in which she was born than I have from my own.
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Active Entries
- 1: Just like a bad plot, I won't tell you why
- 2: I'll ring twice, like the postman always does
- 3: How about I create a mess and then solve the mess and then I'll be a hero
- 4: There's no kind of atmosphere
- 5: Anything you crave, a certain curse
- 6: Never tasted anything like you before
- 7: None of us are traitors till we are
- 8: Swimming through these long-forgotten lands
- 9: Sifting through centuries for moments of your own
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