Blog-azic

We left in high pollen, kicking up clouds of yellow dust in our wake. When we reached Virginia, the trees were still leafing, but once we climbed the Shenandoahs, the trees were winters’ brown. In West Virginia, they became tart, yellow green again. Athens was a bit of a whirlwind. Susan stayed at the BnB while I went to pickup takeout Casa. The city was jumping, but then it was an exceptionally warm spring Thursday - the weekends begin for many students on Thursday as often a class will not meet on Friday. I drove down Mill Street and the shirtless college boys didn’t stop their game of catch football as I passed. They simply chucked the ball over my car. When I finally returned to the house, our old friends and their kids were there. The house was a jumble with a baby crying, children running, and adults shuffling behind. For the kids, I bought a simple bag of Nilla Wafers with “artificially flavored” boldly advertised on the package. It wasn’t until dark settled when the hous

We all woke up slowly today, stretching, yawning in a lost blanket, white sheet Highway. While Susan nursed, I picked up a book of Norse mythology and read aloud the story of Ragnarok, sad but hopeful and new, bittersweet like a good cry. The story drew a bold line between the past (the old stories of the gods) and the future (the end with fire and ice). In the are between the two (the present), lives we, human kind. Later, as Adella had her biweekly cranial massage, I drifted off in a daydream thinking about my own mythology: my twenties. Being adventurous parents, we drove Morgan Street downtown instead of going right home, then, north on Person, past the iconic Krispy Kreme to the Yellow Dog Bread Company. We ordered coffees and a loaf of sourdough bread, but mostly sat in the car while the sky let down it’s rain and Susan let down her milk. Nursing, I think, is like a running gag taken too far. The key to comedy, and all life really, is repetition. Being now hungry and a