Our first trip to Tennessee, August 2005.

A few days later Kim was engaged.

Kim and Kristin started going to the Ellensburg Rodeo when I was in Junior High, and then began taking me.  It became a sister tradition.  And then Kim moved to Tennessee. 

20/25

(And another to check off the Guardian's list!)

A quick word on Men Without Women.

I haven't read much Hemingway.  This summer I read In Our Time, one of his collections of short stories (and his first work published in the US).  It left me deeply impressed, but with a sad, uncomprehending impression. There is no doubt why he became known as "the voice of the lost generation." When I picked up Men Without Women from the library and discovered it was once again a collection of his short stories and once again hosted similar (and some of the same) characters, I must confess I sighed a small, heavy sigh.  But there's a reason why The Guardian included this collection in their top 100 novels ever written (novels?).  Once again the overall feeling is very heartbreaking, as it listens in on a couple discussing an abortion, watches a boxing champion's downfall, a young man's first real heart break, and the death of a famous matador.  Hemingway's narration skills that won him the Nobel Prize in literature make this book an enticing read.  While it is sad, don't expect it to be painful.  It's beautiful.  And his skillful handling tells you just what you need to know, in the most offhanded way.  If you're wanting to learn from masters of the craft, read Hemingway for his narration, his voice, and his ability to make a reader feel pain for a world that sometimes seems so distant from our own, filled with characters just like ourselves.  And if you're going to read Hemingway, read Men Without Women.

Sunrise, Sunrise looks like morning in your eyes

The picture never does do it justice, but what a lovely show it was from the bus stop this morning. As if the skies weren't grand enough, the pavements decided to reflect the myriad of colors as well.

I sat beside you and became myself today.

-Joshua Radin

Spotted.   Look what we found today!  Only a few blocks from our office.  This will mean more to me next week.  I'm pretty certain it's new. 

Would not mind this coat, or those shoes one bit.

So a certain couple of my (male) friends keep commenting on how girls seem to all love fall.  I'd just like to say, that in my house, it's my dad who loves fall and my mom is already grieving the dying days of summer.  I began loving fall as a little girl, out taking walks with my dad.  We had to get Starbucks just to keep our hands warm as we strode along (dad doesn't hold hands, he needs 'to keep his stride/ flow going').  I'd be bundled up in a coat, and hopping from leaf to leaf.  Still today, I can't seem to keep myself from hopping on every leaf I think might give a little crunch.  Our conversation was trailing behind us as little white puffs.  If on the Burke Gilman and headed toward Seattle, we'd always stop and sit and the log (still do).  If headed the opposite way, we'd walk over to the long arching bridge over the slew and just stand there, taking in the view of the changing trees reflected in the slow rolling water.

I love the summer.  I love the endless days of swimsuit wearing (or what once was), playing in the water, reading in the grass, bonfires and late nights out on the patio.  I love that the sun is up before me, and stays out to play 'til late.  I love the Perseids.  I love sun dresses and sandals and painted toes.  Long car rides along the coast, or runs out along the trail.  I LOVE summer.  But when fall peaks in its sweet, warm and ever so familiar head, I run to give it a HUGE hug, and a cup of hot coffee or cocoa. 

Fall is promise and hopes and memories.

A, it's Zooey Deschamel and I love her.  B, she's playing the violin.  C, yeah.  I play this song.  I know. Be impressed.


PS, She and Him are actually pretty great... in my mind. But that's the sort of music Kristin still teases me for... and my dad likes to comment that it sounds straight out of the 60s or something. I sort of love it. :)

The past couple weeks, I've been relearning that the Lord is near.  And that all of life is designed to cause us to turn into Him.  I'm not exactly an extrovert, or an introvert I guess (I talked about this with a wise friend for a bit yesterday). I do like for things to be worked out. So even though I naturally don't talk about the things that are deepest in my heart, I'll try to talk out whatever's gone awry in a friendship.  But, every now and then I seem to enter these seasons where I can't really explain or figure out what exactly has gone wrong... and it seems to usually be a pile at once.  And that also results in or coincides with a sort of alone season.  And then I remember that I just have to turn into Him.  Just sit and let Him be near, because I'm not going to be able to sort this one out in my head, or with my words as much as I want it to all just be right. 

I'm talking with my sister (Kim) about what movie to see at the
 drive-in this weekend. 

Somethings you take for granted, until you can't.

And now I'm tearing up at work... over a drive-in. 

If you don't know what I'm feeling, I can't explain it to you. 

But, if  you've lived away from family before, you get it.

Little moments together are no little matter.

Next book

No. 11 on The Guardian's Top 100 Novels Ever Written

Nightmare Abbey

Started it last night...