Sunday, December 26, 2010


post office, market, a cold wind races across the parking lot and freezes a woman to a shopping cart, stack wood, find sticks, more sticks, more wood, feed birds--c’mas eve brunch with wonderful strangers who tell good stories about becoming murder suspects by just calling the police to report something suspicious--c’mas eve pyro gone, pyro comes home, Presents! sleep, long ride on Joe on gray c’mas morning--somebody got a chain saw for c’mas, keerrrash! woo hoo! who cuts a tree down on c’mas morning?!  joe spooks, we cross the river and forget about it--mash cranberries in pot with sugar and tangerines and my last cinnamon stick and bring to a boil, roast chicken, roast beets, roast turnips, roast carrots, roast sweet potatoes--drink prosecco, lots of prosecco, Parker Posey by the light of the fire, sleep, sleep, Snow, more snow, more snow, Boxing Day of Snow! corn bread in a little iron pan, long walk in the white woods, chicken and cranberry/orange sandwiches, cricket match in South Africa, warm people wearing funny clothes, if clothes at all, drinking beer out of measuring cups, but i dream a sofa dream and nap and nap and dream--UP! chicken stock, risotto. . . no wait, best risotto ever, Harry’s Bar Risotto with remaining roasted roots and James Coburn and Raquel Welch--fire, oh fire, good fire and dogs too tired to say anything because they have been wrestling in the snow all day.

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