As life becomes harder and more threatening, it also becomes richer, 

because the fewer expectations we have, 

the more the good things of life become unexpected gifts that we

accept with gratitude.

Etty Hillesum

An Interrupted Life

via Word of the Day

After reading that article, you need cheering up,

so here are some more photos of peonies.

You're not sick of seeing these, are you?

If you're sick of peonies -- and I don't understand you if you are -- then here's a peek at my bakery cart corner.

And if you're sick of seeing that, I'd advise to you to go back and reread that article.

In lieu of an inspired post,

I'll direct you to an article in The New York Times that strikes fear into the heart of those of us who parent and love a person with developmental disabilities.

Steel yourself.

Seven Deadly Sins of Monday, Number One

Envy: A feeling of discontent and resentment aroused by and in conjunction with desire for the possessions or qualities of another.

This is what I'm thinking about, today, o.k. feeling, actually, but I'm working on it.

Cake

Yellow Cake with Vanilla Frosting

Fondant Flowers

Library

I've been ordering books at the library of late -- trying to turn the tide of bought books that threaten to take over every corner and surface of my house. Despite the purchase of a Kindle a few years ago and a subsequent rigorous discipline of only buying hardbacks of writers that I just know I will want to hold in my hands and smell and caress, the piles grow, they topple, they gather dust. The Central Library in downtown Los Angeles has an incredible database and now I can visit my podunk local library, (the one with the shopping carts and homeless folks outside and an empty public pool, scrawled with graffiti and dusted over by baseball dirt,) order any book off of the ancient computers and have it sent to me for pick-up within a few days. Yesterday, I picked up Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking and More Home Cooking, two books I read so many years ago, that I know I lent out and never got back but I had a hankering for good writing and recipes, so I picked them up and checked them out and walked down the hill to watch Henry's baseball game, their crinkly jackets pressed to my white shirt, provoking a few chiding laughs from Those Who Don't Visit Libraries.

The Library from Sergey Stefanovich on Vimeo.

Brutal Endings in Baseball and an Update*

It was a beautiful southern California morning. The jacarandas were in bloom.

Oliver's team went into the first playoff game in second place. They expected to "beat the pants off" the other team.

In the first inning, they scored five runs.

By the end of the game, they had lost 20 - 8.

Brutal.

Lots of tears.

Let's hope Henry's playoff game works out a little better. Just saying.

*Update: Redemption was not to be. Henry's team also lost abysmally and while there were fewer tears from the big boys, it took an end of season party of pizza and cannoli with beer for the grown-ups to shake it all off. We're done with baseball  -- for now.

Saturday Peace

PS22 Chorus and Ithacappella
via Noelle Renee at The Angels Wear Fins

Looking for a Sugar Daddy (or Mama)

to send me here on my birthday, August 27th. Do any Sugar Daddies read this blog? I'm not proud, as you can see.

Slightly subversive Friday funny

from my collection of great cards:

There's nothing like a brother

One-Act Play

Setting: Urban neighborhood, Los Angeles, after school, early June

Weather: Breezy, blue skies, sunny and seventy degrees

Players: Group of boys, aged ten to twelve, one with one broken arm, all dirty

Racial Makeup: three white, two Asian, one African-American

Props: a large cardboard box, plastic guns, lacrosse sticks, orange cones

Boys run around screaming incredibly loudly until Mother steps outside and screams,

Stop screaming!

Woman turns around to go inside.

Boys start running around screaming.

Brown UPS truck drives down street. Boys run alongside it, shooting fake bullets at driver. Driver, a young man, obliges with fake shooting sounds and his hand in a fake gun pose.

Mother goes inside and shuts door and windows.

Lunch

The Mazda sits at the EZ Lube getting stroked and stripped as clean as a whistle. The bougainvillea climbs orange to the blue sky. I sit at the cafe next to the lube stop with my fried eggs and polenta, an orange wedge flagged by parsley. My cup runneth over with coffee.

Peonies - 10:00 AM, Day Six - Faded

Peonies at Dusk


White peonies blooming along the porch

send out light

while the rest of the yard grows dim.
Outrageous flowers as big as human

heads! They’re staggered

by their own luxuriance: I had

to prop them up with stakes and twine.
The moist air intensifies their scent,

and the moon moves around the barn

to find out what it’s coming from.
In the darkening June evening

I draw a blossom near, and bending close

search it as a woman searches

a loved one’s face.


-- Jane Kenyon