At one point we unearthed the piano and for a long time I couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until twenty minutes later mon prof tapped his fingers around on the keys to explain bits of the American Songbook.
I bought a bike off a friend yesterday. I want something for winter that won't give me secret fits about rust and tire pressure. Wonder the Panasonic Tourist is working on 40 years and deserves to be coddled and cradled. I've brought him inside and wrapped him in a blanket.
This new one feels as if I've acquired a little trick bike. Ce n'est pas vrais (not true). But it's short, has hard boy seat. I want to trick it out. I'm thinking of spray painting it black and stenciling it's name on in silver: DEATH. Maybe I could even make a little scyth to ornament my handlebars, I think it'd be hilarious. We'd be a great pair, Death and I. Moi in my little knitted cap and mittens and Death with rhinestone skulls glitterig from the handles.
It's just a little funny imagining of mine.
I'm also thinking of strapping a pillow onto that death seat. I mean, that seat feels like death. Apparently boys don't sit on their bikes these days.
well...
Love,
Marge
28 January 2009
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Is that whole death and I thing a quote from something? It sounds really really familiar. Either way you are still brilliant for writing it. I love you.
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