In which we elaborate upon the topic of Airzooka.

There appeared to be much curiosity and enthusiasm regarding Airzooka.





Allow me explain.
In the Pacific Science Center there is a store where you can buy all manner of stuff, ranging from vaguely science-y all the way to actually science-y.

There, in the shaft of light streaming from the heavens, Airzooka™ revealed itself to me. I didn't then know how, or when, but I knew that one day it would be mine,
oh yes, it would be mine.
My children attempted to obtain for me a mini-airzooka, but alas, it was not to be. They had been discontinued so a full sized Airzooka was my clearly my destiny.

ThinkGeek , with their delicious, bizarre, irresistable merch would once again supply just what I needed.

So there you have it, children,
the story of Logo™ and her Airzooka™;
and they lived happily ever after.

So for my birfday I got these

Airzooka!
Yah, baby.

Purse matchy-matchy wallety thing

Opal™ (infinitely more useful than jewelry),

and one of these, zipped case featuring built-in speakers, for Opal™.

I also got stuff I'm not gonna show you.

opinion poll

I am going to be 39 later this year week, so I have a question for you all.
I don't actually need them yet, but I bought some reading glasses.
What do you think;
with glasses,
or without?

Get your motor runnin'

I took my mommymobile to Spokane, not my motorcycle. In light of the barely abover freezing temperatures across the pass and over much of eastern WA, it seemed the wiser choice.
Not to mention two Things and all our things would never fit.


We made good time on the road both ways and the kids are finally old enough I don't have to stop for potty and sprint breaks every hour or two.


We had a great visit with the fam and the return trip was painless til we hit our hometown and had a HUGE traffic jam to wait out. I decided to just stop for dinner, forget waiting for an hour in traffic. I had already been sitting there for 5 hours.





Anyway, what I WANTED to share is this, the halfway point to Spokane is Vantage, WA, which is where the interstate crosses the Columbia River, and it is usually gorgeous, but always impressive.

Radio is NOT happening on this stretch of road and as the gods of the random tracks would have it, while we crossed this bridge, both Friday and Monday, the song playing was In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel. It is a concert version of it, and I love it.

in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes

-----------------------

Yah yah, so I am a child of the 80s, whatever,
I unabashedly LOVE this song.
Love, love, love...

East of West

I just love the EES.
I'm a big fan of the rest of my family too, but she made some kickbutt snacks for the superbowl yesterday and today she is making a FAB cake from scratch for my daddy's birthday.
Also, she loves shopping at bookstores as much as me.

We are headed home this afternoon. Here's hoping the pass isn't snowy!

A Cheery Little Poem I Wrote

My mood today veers wildly between sunny and bright and...
not so much.

I saw this in an old notebook and thought, "Golly, that was a terribly upbeat piece, wasn't it?"
So here, in the spirit of accepting all manner of poetry (including the very amateur), take THIS!

On and on the voices drone
The echoes lunging
Tearing, ripping,
Repeated over and over
Yet the words are indistinct
Day after fay the sounds echo
The words are always the same
I used to know the meaning
But now the harder I try
The less it comes to me
The farther I wander
The louder it gets
It builds til it seems to scream
The echoes lunging
Tearing, ripping
Til my strength lies there
tattered, in shreds.


Today I think I shall drive to eastern WA to visit my dad at my sister's house since it's almost his birthday. After all, 6 hours of driving sounds like so much FUN, doesn't it??

Color me happy!

At the moment I am thrilled.
Can you tell?

I am thrilled for two reasons.
The former sort of depends on the latter, but let's go in order.
First, Jocelyn sent me this book of poems.
I love books, I love poetry, and I love Jocelyn, so clearly there is much to explain the gleeful-bordering-on-imbalanced smile on my face.
However, there is another reason.
If you're one of those few people who've read my blog over the last 4+ years (sweet, fancy Moses, can you believe it's been almost 5 years I've been at this?!?!) you would know that I have this thing, a deep, abiding passion regarding poetry.
It seems to date back to A Child's Garden of Verses and the Dr. Seuss titles of my youth, and at this time it's still going strong.

The point of that rabbit trail is this;

Jocelyn HATED poetry not that long ago. Yes, it's true. Hard as it can be to believe, it's the truth. I tried gently to lure her, subtly, you know, like by posting entire poems in her comment box.

So recently the GRANDER truth (the magic, genius, and logophiliac bliss of poetry) was revealed to her through a poet from her home state.
Jocelyn introduced Louis Jenkins initially on her blog and then very kindly sent me an autographed copy of his book North of the Cities, which just arrived.

Here is a little nibble to enjoy with me.

Illusion
Is it true that this world, this life, is an illusion, all smoke and mirrors? It must be, because according to a recent poll, seventy percent of the American public believes that Ronald Reagan did a good job as president. And yet if life is only a figment, a feint, a construction of breath and vapor, then why is it a rock falls and smashes your toe and you go hopping around on one foot, mad with pain? Why, if you happen to look at a woman on the sidewalk and your car plows into the truch in front of you, are you dead and no longer allowed to play the game? It's an illusion, but a damn good one.
-----
This may not seem like typical poetry, but it is good.
Here is what Mr. Jenkins said about poetry

"Poetry is always about using language. One tries to make the story, or whatever it is, vivid and meaningful, but to not be too apparent with linguistic tricks. Again, Dylan Thomas, he wrote a kind of poetry in which the sound of the language became almost more important than what was actually being said. That’s a way of writing, but its not my way of writing. Bart Sutter often writes formal verse, rhymed verse; that’s what he does, he’s good. But it’s not my way of writing. He makes the language do a certain thing, and I also make the language do a certain thing, but it’s a different thing. I try to make the poem as casual and everyday as it can be but to still have that surprise."

I think he does it very well.

Thank you, Jocelyn, for a truly wonderful gift that I will enjoy for years to come.

Oh, and welcome to the club.