|Mr. Noodles, the gorilla in question (actually, I think he's|
a chimpanzee, but I'm not in charge of him.)
There's nothing like an afternoon in the sunshine watching your daughter play soccer with her stuffed gorilla on the sidelines dressed up as the team mascot in a spare uniform to make you know it is really spring, even if the wind is cold enough that your hands ache for an hour afterwards.
Reading: Chapters for writers group. I'm happy to say it was the first time in a while that reading someone else's pages has made me eager to get back to mine.
Dinner: At writer's group, cheese and salami and Lebanese green beans. When I got home, the salad and corn and part of a corn dog that was waiting for me. I probably could have made do with only one of these, but they were both so lovingly prepared.
Soundtrack: In the kitchen, dancing with Z's arms wrapped around me, her cheek pressed into my back between my shoulder blades, to "CC Rider" by Old Crow Medicine Show. She swayed with me and held me tight and we danced for far longer than if it were just a casual hug then parted wordlessly. And not 15 minutes later O and I embraced and shuffled to "Future Sightings" by I Am The World Trade Center.
Random thing: I write about birds a lot here, I've noticed. Something streamlined and fierce looking with sharply folding wings and a chittery cry lives near the train tracks behind the soccer field we were on today. About the size of mourning dove, but not soft or plump like that. If art deco designers made birds, this is the bird they would make.