varying degrees of light

I surprised my mum this evening by turning in to bed at quarter past nine. That's 9:15 PM, central time. Yes, it's a big week at work and I really wanted to be able to get up in the morning, but the bottom line was

I was tired
and there was a persistent ache in my head.

So I lay on my bed and read a few pages from my new book... which turned into finishing one of the five chapters that make up the book... which cured my headache and made me think of so many people the narrative drew up. The setting is in Seattle, the protagonist's father plants a garden and sets aside a small plot for her son - he puts down seeds of Lego pieces and pennies.

The cucumbers are coming in. They're tiny, a little spikey and shaped like little pears. Absolutely adorable. Completely.

Tomatoes have been in their green clusters for some time now. The biggest plant has some turning red and ripening like jewels, placed hidden behind green, vibrant leaves at the base of the stalk.

The pepper plants are growing taller. Greener too. Almost a dark green. There isn't any developing fruit to be seen, but they are growing like weeds.

The maples stand straight and strong, six, seven inches high, but their leaves aren't as proud as they were before. Still there though, still fighting it.

I can't sleep, as you can read. It's quarter to midnight.

The Iron & Wine show we saw in Iowa City is a gorgeous meditation at night, even if you think you should be asleep. It has me imagining the touches, the extremely disciplined touches that each musician put into each song. It has me debating which is the most beautifully written song, changing my vote with every track starting again.

My list of postal correspondence addresses grows as well. Be patient, all of you. They take a long time to write.

I'd like to be somewhere without television, internet, responsibilities of the working kind - I've been shirking the film and the camera and other "Oh, I'll get to do that in the summer," activities for... however long summer has been so far.

Anyway, it's late. The week will start very soon.

She leaned on her colored hair,
like a butterfly wing in a summer rainfall.