dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Thursday, February 28, 2013


I got this wrist mala with a Buddha bead off etsy.  It's pretty but smells really strongly of perfume.  The etsy post said something about sandalwood.  I want to take you a picture, but that will have to wait till morning. 

This morning we waited in line for an hour for food.  It was okay.  There was a little drama involving someone not wanting someone else to pet their dog because they don't want it to get used to people.  And a dad and adult daughter yelling at each other in passing. 

But there were nice things too, like the islander woman who asked us to hold her place in line because she was tired of holding her big baby.  The little kid who wanted to steal the other little kid's chips, who wanted a bell pepper because she thought it was an apple, who ate a big strawberry.  Or when I asked the guy in front of me where he was from because his accent had been puzzling me for months, and he said he was from down the street. 

There's lots of crap that could be talked about our neighborhood, but the one thing you could never say is that it's boring. 


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