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Archive for the ‘love’ Category

“But I want to know for sure!
C’mon and — hold me tight.
You mooove me.”
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Have you heard about the parted-at-birth twins who got married?
Eeeeep.
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It was Thursday shortly after 5 PM, and Ron had just finished restocking the coolers; he was ready for the evening crowd. He stopped to re-fill his coffeecup, noting the place was already half full, and took a moment to scan the customers dispersed along the bar.

Jim Garvin, the only regular in so far, had arrived early and met someone. The first thing that Ron noticed about her now was her high cheekbones. She sat erect, shoulders back, proud, with clear green eyes that watched Garvin sidelong. Crinkled skin at the back of her hands and the wrinkles on her neck and face gave her maturity, accented by silver jewelry with gaudy clear stones over her purple khaftan, which gave her a well-traveled air, rich in experience, discriminating yet vulnerable.
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I’m going to go have a beer this evening with my friend Brian to celebrate the solstice. We generally get together for a pint this time of year, to note the days beginning to get longer. It’s dark early now, but getting brighter, which sounds pretty good to me.
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So, Was It Worth the Trip?

I’ve mentioned my wife’s talent with stained glass before, and you can see more of it here.

When she first mentioned taking a beadmaking class it was in the context of learning how to make buttons, so I didn’t quite grok it. It was part of a design element for her lamps, and the prospective Portland trip was way off, so my reaction several weeks later was, “you’re going to make what, now?”
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While visiting Paul and Kathy in Minnesota, good friends I’ve known a long time, I also got to know some new members of the family. Pictured is Leia (with dog tags), who Paul believed was at a height disadvantage in her efforts to get to know me better.

oct07_leiakissmyface.jpg
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When I go into a grocery store, I don’t get a bunch of clerks scolding me for buying cheddar cheese or fat-laden salad dressing or a bag of lime-flavored taco chips (god love ’em). If I go see a movie the ticket-taker doesn’t admonish me for watching such prurient trash.

How come it’s so hard to find a dentist who’ll just clean my teeth or fill my cavities and take my money without giving me the same tired lecture?
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We watched a very engaging movie last night about four North Africans who volunteer to fight for the French. Part and parcel of the story is that these men are fighting for a nation that has colonized their own countries. As soldiers in Europe they find themselves in wonderfully ambiguous places, confronting scenes and situations familiar to audiences yet novel for the characters; generally sweet, likeable young men. (Those who’ve seen Amelie will recognize Jamel Debbouze.)
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Okay, a little research would have let me know it wasn’t the best year to visit the Upper Midwest looking for autumn color. The Midwest had a dry spring and summer, then a very stormy September.
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A few months back I wrote about the good life. No, more than the good life, the fantastic life, top of the world, and how it might be enjoyed in Manhattan mid 20th century, by a star having life by the tail, living in tall cotton or deep clover.

That was a joie de vivre forged in talent and brawn, but there’s another so fleeting it barely happened and, as wonderful as life became, the crucial bond wasn’t forged on the musical genius that sustained it but on the most tenuous of connections: a shared sense of humor, and of charm.
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