Sunday, March 30, 2003

Since this site seems to be getting less use then my shoe horn (which I don't actually have) and since I think I used all of my ability to write decently in an email, I will post snippits of that here, like a slacker.
"Today, for me, has been a glimpse of the portion of Hell reserved for those who plan to move away from their family. From waking I was put to work at laboriously, monotonously placing seven years of household onto a moving truck, throwing everything slipshod into the dark, sweat-stenched cab. My mom and her "friend of a friend" drank beer in the morning light. I didn't want to move, I couldn't stand to see our furniture lined up in the truck like inmates going on a field trip. When we got to the boxes filled to the rim with old, folded over photographs, there wasn't time to stop and enjoy the memories. We were working on someone else's time, standing in someone else's house and pictures clothes paintings appliances furniture everything had to move move move in military fashion, my mom spouting commands like a slightly buzzed drill sargent."

"All that aside, new house inhabited, rambling mother sedated, friends of friends sent gleefully on their way, and so on--weather-wise, today has been the brightest I've seen it since I've come home. I drove around with my little sister and took pictures of everything I could get my greedy little eyes on, spending a good amount of time in a suburb to be. "

"Like this tree that seemed ounces away from too heavy, leaning over the street like a six-year-old over an anthill, bluffing about crushing everything beneath it. It wore moss like a toupee. On this road, all the trees seemed to lean in, greens seemed grayed, sky was ocean blue. Things were rustic and picturesque, things were just plain gorgeous. I wanted some field to sit out in and count the clouds like I did years ago."

posted by McKain | 1:38 AM