Blooming

As in "June is busting out all over!!!!"

and

"Come on Dover, move your blooming arse!!!!"

Life is a whirl of seed swaps, tart baking, friend supporting, volleyball spiking, and- Lord help me, spring concert staging.

It's the hard knock life for me.

If you feel cheated by the small word count of this post, I ask you "what the hell are you doing inside reading blogs?"

Since I Am Spending My Words Elsewhere

That's write. I am living a small cyber double life, and it is taking its toll, as I shockingly neglect this blog. Wicked woman, where is your commitment to public displays of narcissism? And don't use the Facebook excuse- you haven't been constantly updating your status.

Regardless, I've used my allotment of original thoughts for the evening, but it is spring and I am overflowing with seasonal sap. So I give you selected bits from a cleverer bugger than me.

take it, ee:

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for eachother: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

~ ~ ~

Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and from moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.

~ ~ ~

may my heart always be open to little

birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young


and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

Success Is Counted Ironic

So I was not able to write into existence another year's worth of salary on-island for myself, but I was able to write into existence a salary for someone who by definition, must not be me- which is to say the island will have a new Island Institute Fellow next year for comprehensive planning. At least one application I penned was successful. The new Fellow will live in this house, will work on the committee I have been working for (in my spare time), will wear my title.

New blood will be good for the island.

I knew as I wrote the application that I was essentially displacing myself.

Tequila and the Truth

Seriously. I don't know why the CIA was fooling around with waterboarding when they could just put the tequila to 'em (ignoring the possible religious issues there, of course). They wouldn't only sing, they'd also dance.

Oh the truthiness happened.

After a pina colada, some number of tequila shots, and a rum and coke or two into the evening...

After a year of hemming and hawing, and multiple consultations (the friends, the father, the half brother)... I did grab the slender one by the hand, and pulled him out to the deck to figure out what was the what.

Sigh. It didn't take long.

I like making cake, we know that. So making a cake of myself should be no big deal. All a part of the human experience.

And the exchange lead to a pretty magical drive-home moment:

Nate: Morgan, are you crying?!

Morgan: Nooooooooooooo!!!! I don't cryyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!! (sobs into her hands).

And then I crawled to my computer to gchat with Stacey, which is when I typed this immortal phrase:

"tequila-y is the craziest drinkest drubnk."

Indeed.

On Spring and Linear Equations

Have you been able to focus your attention? Spring and all?

Well, you are a better person than me.

I've been baking, cleaning, hiking, purloining daffodils, taking cuttings from my geranium, and planting seeds in pots. Yes, there has been work too. But not blogging. The puttering and wandering has been too good, and the latest social bombshell too bad. Living in a microcosm is pretty intense, and if I sat down to write about it right now, with grace, maturity, and a searching heart, my head would go kablooey.

So I am wandering through the forest courting lyme disease, marauding for the flowers the deer won't eat, and other things of high importance. Oh yes, getting my feet wet with spring time woods muck.

Did a smidge of math tutoring last night, which was beautiful- linear equations. When else is life ever so straightforward and dependable? Learn the identity of the pieces, the rules and relationships, and voila- you know exactly what to expect every time. How a mad species like humans came up with such a relaxingly sane system of thought will never cease to amaze me.

So easy to navigate, so satisfying to work through. Nice, neat, and orderly. In a short space of time you can find an answer and know it is the right one. Now, finding the x-intercept of a line may have absolutely no bearing on anything in reality, but hot damn, it is an absolute answer, nonetheless! And I will whole-heartedly embrace it for sake of having sooooooomething be absolute.

Algebra, cake ingredients, dirt (literal! not figurative). I am focusing on the good stuff.