Sunday, February 8, 2009

Sometimes I can't contain myself.

Sunday mornings when it's almost 60 are some of those times. I confess that I have been looking forward to this day ever since it appeared in the ten day forecast. I took a walk around my neighborhood, decided that the Tea Lounge was way too dark and not fitting for such a glorious morning, so I ordered my delicious (seriously the best in town) Cafe Au Lait to go and have parked myself in the bay windows in my own apartment. I opened the window. My writer's notebook and Staedtler pens are next to me. Bursting! And I need to document this, albeit not very poetic, to remember *hope* and spring when the temperature drops again.

Sigh. Currently playing (basically all of the kindred travelling songs...):

The Beautiful Sea.

Son of a Son of a Sailor.

For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti.

Liz on Top of the World.

Why Should I Cry for You.

Ok. Off to write some fiction.

1 comment:

stef shaffer said...

remember when you wrote jimmy's lyrics on our walls? you.are.great.