Morning and Afternoon

This morning I took the bus up to the old location of Espresso Vivace for breakfast. I sat at one of the granite counters that wrap around the edge of the coffeeshop, ate an almond croissant and drank a latte, and looked out of the windows between reading passages of Life is a Miracle. It is a good book and perhaps I'll re-read it at some other point. I kind of want to add in some ifs, ands, and buts, but at the same time it is refreshingly articulate and humble--proper, to use Berry's own term. He writes about coming to know a place and the long time it takes to learn the stories of a place, which is a fitting subject for me while I ponder how I relate to Seattle and to Arizona.

From there, I walked north, down along Broadway, passing by new Condominium Complexes (Brix is such a displeasing name) and old apartment buildings and trying to put my finger on what I like and what I dislike. For a while I thought about how much I appreciate the moss that gradually creeps up everything over time. That's a substance that is not cultivated but lends appearance. Eventually I reached Le Fournil and remembered the time when that section of road was abandoned and the Flower Lady sold flowers out of the back of a truck instead of the concrete shop. At Eastlake and Boyer I turned right and walked the familiar path between my house and the boathouse (the Pocock Center), and observed in that neighborhood several new houses that seemed fitting in their landscape. Perhaps it was the eaves, or the carefully chosen surfacing material, or the placement of windows, or the size of the projects, or the green between houses--I don't know for sure.

This afternoon, I'll travel out to the airport, and then travel back to Tempe, where I'll pretend I'm ready to resume some other aspect of my life.

Visit an ATM Cash Machine for Cash Money

I just realized how retarded "avian bird flu" sounds.

*headdesk*

This is way better than the end of The Omnivore's Dilemma

I wish I had read this article when it first came out instead of just now, but it provides a really nice contrast to the fourth section of The Omnivore's Dilemma, which was my least favorite part of the book.

And in case you're still bored

Also by way of the Slog, here's A Parent's Guide to Unusual Breath Odors and What They Mean.
Bitter almonds = cyanide poisoning.
Sweaty socks = odor of sweaty feet syndrome.
Asparagus = child has eaten asparagus.