Jen, Willow, and I finally managed to ditch that figurative stopwatch for awhile today by travelling to a shady little park near downtown and letting Willow explore the wonderful world of grass, trees, and sand. She sat in the swing and was really excited by the amazing floating sensation of it all. The sandbox was good for some more smiles and chuckles. I buried her legs and feet in wet sand as she smacked me with a small, plastic shovel. After we had exhausted the possibilities of the sandbox, we sprawled on the grass in the shade of some amazing Oak trees, enjoying some much needed down time. I watched the crows, butterflies, and glistening bits of spiderweb pass by overhead. The gnarled limbs of the trees caught the sunlight and provided a stark contrast against the fathomless blue of the sky. It's good to be able to show our baby that all is not chaos. Life is meant to be lived slowly. Later, we reinforced this idea by watching Tarkovsky's The Sacrifice , which is one of those films you can just sink into - a balm for the soul. Actually, we didn't quite finish watching it, because the heathen horde descended upon us and chaos once again reigned. Still, it's days like this that will stick in my memory best. Jen and I had a great time just relaxing and watching Willow have a great time exploring the vast wonder of the world.

On Friday, also in the interest of finding an escape from chaos, M. and I trekked up into the hills to visit the abandoned remnants of a quicksilver mine. One of the cement buildings, the use of which I have temporarily forgotten, acts as an echo chamber, so that when you play a musical instrument into the square hole on one side, the sound is magnified and bounced around inside in interesting ways. I'm not sure what the various hikers and joggers passing by on the path thought of this - especially the conch horn, which is rather loud, and to most ears, unmusical. Actually, let me amend that statement - one hiker made some complimentary remarks, which now mar the recording. Such are the hazards of recording anything in a public place. That said, I want to go back and sing songs into that hole. I just have to figure out which ones.

Lexy shared with me tonight that the reason he's afraid of the windows being open is because he keeps imagining zombies looking in at him - all because of a picture he saw on the spine of one of my books. I told him that he has a good imagination, and that every time he starts to picture a zombie in his head, to instead picture a clown in his underpants. That's the old public speaking trick - picture the audience in their underpants and you'll be less nervous. We'll see if it works for zombies at the window.

cds I listened to after the stopwatch started ticking again: Pentagram "Bir", Fred Frith "Rivers and Tides { Working With Time", T.A.C. "Twilight Rituals", Tank "Still At War", Penelope Houston "Snap Shot", and The Tiger Lillies "Two Penny Opera"