bumper sticker

i meet this on my way to the store and it sure is a sight more entertaining than the usual political / my-kid-is-an-honor-student / pro-choice / pro-life / religious offering. perhaps we could ban earnest propaganda and self advertisement from bumpers and just allow a bit of irreverent wit to make for a more cheerful ride.

supper

i find myself in line at the macdonald's drive-in trying to buy a wild berry smoothie. this is due to a sudden post-dinner craving, and the fastfood joint is probably the only place i can get anything at this time. what you simply do not have in virginia is the luxury of being able to toddle to your neighborhood eatery and indulging whatever supper whim you may suddenly have which is not a burger an ice cream or a pizza. specifically: horfun fried kwayteow bubur chacha chendol and such.

memoirs of a geisha

i abandon jeffrey archer to read this on J2's insistence. she promises i will love it. i do. i am at the third chapter still marveling that prose can be so poetic and that metaphors can evoke such harsh realness. there is enchantment in a truly beautiful tangle of words that does not depend on humor or energy or scandal to ensnare you, and arthur golden achieves this in a way chick lit and detective stories and non-fiction cannot.

(nearly) end of season

now is always my favorite part of summer, when she finally yields her hard edge. the breezes sweep broader. you no longer walk into that rolling wall of heat. the flies are less intrusive. and today i fancy the leaves are edging to yellow. this is our fifth summer in the united states, and she is packing up and going off.

evolution

J1 is part of the satellite positioning generation. he prefers the mechanical Voice directions to a map. he likes the Voice even when he can get there without her. he actually pulls to the side if she needs more time to calculate her coordinates.

from word of mouth to hand drawn maps to street directories to google maps and now the Voice. i suspect this generation's problem is due to their familiarity with only the latest navigational incarnation so that they are unable to function at more primitive levels. when J1 goes to the military i hope he learns to use the compass.

back to school sales

these, i figure, are a major business strategy. they span the ages from elementary school to college and run the gamut from office supplies to cars. elementary school. stationery. college. cars. with electronics appliances accessories and furniture thrown in. possibly a sailboat or two.

the july/august back to school custom represents the pinnacle of the merchandiser's arts. a date on the calendar at the end of summer becomes a rite of passage becomes a package of absolute essentials becomes a national occasion becomes a developmental milestone.

office depot advertisement

que será será

our church's octogenarian pastor is going home to taiwan. this sets me thinking. when HOM and i retire, where will we go? will we be near our children and their children? will our children be near our parents? will economic pressure and dreams reshape our family again and again? what is home? with six bases over twelve years, whither the heart's repose?

i have no regrets really. it's our privilege and our adventure. but occasionally, like today, i remember there is a price to pay to being intoxicatingly peripatetic. perhaps it will always be an earthly tent. perhaps that is how it should be.

her name was guinevere

anecdotally, butterflies in captivity do not appear to last long.

it's a corolla!

here is our new car. HOM disregards the beetles minis and pt cruisers that i suggest and goes for the quintessential value-for-money workhorse. all i say is, there's audrey hepburn, and there're the rest. this one's no hepburn.

her name is guinevere

she perches there at her corner of the table on her little napkin with her personal morsel of myrtle. i avoid a close-up of her body lest my lifelong entomophobia overpower my rapidly fading nobler instincts*. i am going to google the lifespan of butterflies in captivity soon.

*namely my desire to preserve the peace with her doting owner.