bar la grassa, first visit
2012-01-13
posterous [of ms rachel swan]
the bits and scraps of life on the interwebs
Foodie, God dork.
Queer (bi).
Un-Cool.
Friend to the Other.
Flawed but earnest.
Beloved to Ratchet.
Blogs.
I love research
and late night date night.
on christmas morning
This is the first year I am not enjoying a warm carmel roll, fresh squeezed oj mimosas and eggs benedict for Christmas morning. My father was never so happy as he was when in the kitchen.
This feeling---it too, shall pass---I know it will. But for now, my love cuddles up beside me, and tells me it is ok to feel this way, passes the kleenex and leans closer in.
All Saints Day
Wiki says
"Day of the Dead (Spanish: Día de los Muertos) is a holiday celebrated in Mexico and around the world in many cultures. The holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have died. It is particularly celebrated in Mexico, where it attains the quality of a National Holiday. The celebration takes place on November 1–2, in connection with the Catholic holidays of All Saints' Day (November 1) and All Souls' Day (November 2). Traditions connected with the holiday include building private altars honoring the deceased using sugar skulls, marigolds, and the favorite foods and beverages of the departed and visiting graves with these as gifts."
Day off: burning
Burning stuff. Physical
and not.
and not.
Fall.
Death and compost.
light
I've tried to find words. I got nothin.
This was morning. I guess you just had to be there.
Labor Day: you know what that means ...
Yep. Jackets, on. Pant legs, down. Frog & Toad, marking the seasons.
one year ago
One year ago I was in Ireland, my favorite place in the world.
Specifically, we (sweeties parents, sweetie and me) were on our way
from Dublin to Killarney and stopped off at Cashel--where this photo
was taken.
I remember we were driving from Killarney to Doolin, and just coming
up over the hill, passing into County Clare my whole body let out a
sigh, and then took a deep breath in; I was home. I love this photo. Like life, you can only see what is just in front
of you, what is presented through the frame. From where we stand, we
can't know the story of the manor, of the long walk to get there, nor
of what lies beyond the frame. We make assumptions and tell ourselves
stories, but like my father used to always say, its not the "whole
picture" you are seeing.
