today, it's orem for me.

there is a bird in our neighborhood who is talking to the sky about all this rain. he never ceases, chatting, trilling- and then he catcalls.

i'm serious.
the bird, makes the catcall whistle.

i make it back and he is silent


and then he makes it again

so i make it back.

we go on like this for fifteen minutes until he decides i'm not the love of his life.

unless that catcall in his birdlanguage is an insult of some kind. i'd insult the sky today too with all this rain if i didn't have a roof.


that's okay. i've been reading about breastfeeding all morning, for something that looks super easy, it's actually very very complicated and many mothers fail at it for a while. how awful.

i'm trying not to get discouraged about all this before the baby is even here.

maybe i'll go install more shelves in the baby's room.

my sister lachelle sent me an email this morning which explained why new york is awesome


i agree with her, even though my memories of new york consist of:

serious humidity, smelly crowds, really good hot dogs, black and white cookies, frozen hot chocolate and the foot long hot dog at serendipity's, the zoo, a bum throwing a sandwhich at me, les mis, the fish market and not being able to breathe, and a faint memory of the big christmas tree and my pink and purple mini backpack.

that's all you hold for me new york. oh and footage after footage and photos of 9/11 replaying over and over again.

you are overwhelming. and everytime i was there i had serious fears of being lost forever in everything.

but it's nice to imagine what you could hold for me. are there birds in new york city? if i was a bird, i'd avoid it.

it's the green for me. it's the space and air and animals and even rain all day for me.
it's less people, less noise, dirt, and a drive to absolutely nowhere for me.

and while i am nowhere, i find myself entirely.

even with the small lovewhistle rejection from the unknown tweeter outside, i doubt my chickens would ever throw a sandwhich at me.