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The subject line's from "Qum," by Tim Dlugos (who, among other things, was called the Frank O'Hara of his generation and had planned to become an Episcopal priest before AIDS killed him). It's the January 12 entry in A Year in Poetry, edited by Thomas E. Foster and Elizabeth C. Guthrie.
During dinner, I read Mimi O'Donnell's piece in Vogue (as told to Adam Green) about her life with Philip Seymour Hoffman, and about how her kids and she are living with the loss four years later. The final paragraph:
Me, I'm probably another 6-12 months from opening heart and home to a new-to-me dog. My schedule needs to become several degrees less breakneck for me to spend adequate time with any additions to our household, and I'd also like to see through some major repairs while we are pet-less (among other things, a patch of ceiling has been shedding plaster every time someone takes a shower). But I do greatly miss the affection and entertainment our past furballs have provided.
January 2016
It's currently 59 F in Nashville. (The high yesterday was 69 F.) The temperature is supposed to plummet to 29 F by mid-morning. That is bonkers. Who knows what the roads are going to be like.
Although it will likely be months before I'm back on the water, I'm dreaming of it:
During dinner, I read Mimi O'Donnell's piece in Vogue (as told to Adam Green) about her life with Philip Seymour Hoffman, and about how her kids and she are living with the loss four years later. The final paragraph:
This fall, after a long campaign by my kids, I agreed that we could get a family dog. They had their hearts set on a French bulldog, and after some research we found a breeder and picked out a puppy, a girl, whose picture was so cute it was almost insane (and I’m not a dog person). The moment we made the decision, Cooper said, “She’s going to die. Dogs don’t live very long, so we’re going to see her die.” In her birth and in her coming to us, we were also mourning her death. Something about that felt right, knowing that everything you meet or love is going to die. I was in awe of my kids that they were able to hold both things in their heads at the same time. That’s who they are now. And it hasn’t stopped them from loving this little creature (her name is Puddles) scampering around our apartment. None of them wants to hold back. They’ve given their hearts to her, without hesitation or reservation.
Me, I'm probably another 6-12 months from opening heart and home to a new-to-me dog. My schedule needs to become several degrees less breakneck for me to spend adequate time with any additions to our household, and I'd also like to see through some major repairs while we are pet-less (among other things, a patch of ceiling has been shedding plaster every time someone takes a shower). But I do greatly miss the affection and entertainment our past furballs have provided.
January 2016It's currently 59 F in Nashville. (The high yesterday was 69 F.) The temperature is supposed to plummet to 29 F by mid-morning. That is bonkers. Who knows what the roads are going to be like.
Although it will likely be months before I'm back on the water, I'm dreaming of it:
