It is windy and slightly rainy tonight. Jen and Willow are asleep in the bed behind me, so I'm trying to type quietly. Last night Jen got barely any sleep, and I stayed up until 5:30 in the morning holding Willow so Jen could quiet down The Dickens. I watched a Frida Kahlo documentary I've had for years but for some reason had never gotten around to watching. She couldn't have kids due to a bus accident that (among other things) fractured her pelvis, and a some of her art reflects this longing for a motherhood that she could never experience. I've always felt drawn towards artists who channel their pain into their art - it is brave and honest, and... necessary. Willow mostly slept through it. We're discovering that she is perfectly content when cradled in our arms, but tends to squirm and fuss when put down. We're perfectly content holding her, so it's a good match. The only problem is that there are so many other things (and people) that need our attention. A case in point is The Dickens, who continues to teach us about the transitory nature of ownership. The most recent lesson involved a coffee mug I've had for years.

Earlier tonight I almost tripped over a duck who alerted me just in time by quacking at me. Moments later I got back in my car and listened to a sad song about a duck. How odd.

cds I listened to while avoiding waterfowl: Odetta "Best of the Vanguard Years" and "To Ella" (remember, you cannot almost sing), Upright Citizens "Underground", Mecca Normal "The First Lp", The Sun Also Rises "s/t", Malvina Reynolds "Ear to the Ground", Boiled In Lead "Orb", and The Wyld Olde Souls "Poems From the Astral Plane"