and the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night

we've two gray pigeons fluffing themselves into feathery balls while sitting in the sunshine on the driveway. most of our world here is green.

i cannot seem to push myself out of vacation mode. it's horrible. the kitchen is a serious disaster. i am hungry but hunger is not worth facing the mess of the kitchen in order to find food. ernie shrugs it off and doesn't even care that i seem to have lost all interest in cleaning the house. he steps over smooshed strawberries and crusts of toast and is not bothered in the least by it.

sigh. it's tuesday and these things must be faced and dealt with. i don't know how much longer i can shrug the thing off. somehow the morning's sunshine make the cleaning of the kitchen more realistic and possibly even enjoyable. gray days are hard to clean up.

to make matters worse i have had the most outragous time making coffee (of all things!) this morning. two times (twice!) the perking coffee clogged in the machine and overflowed all over the already incredibly messy countertop. i gave up and made espresso, carefully measuring and assembling the thing to perfection. but even that bubbled and spattered all over the burner. what's going on here?



a few new things to look at, to smell, to smile:

late into the night i sat up with the one i love the most who transformed this blog into this delicious skyline blue daily delight. the man will do anything for me. "admit you're a lucky dog." "i'm a lucky dog."

at long last i was able to watch lemony snicket's "a series of unfortunate events." the books are witty and wonderful so i was a bit skeptical of the choice of jim carrey but he was marvelous and creepy, a total jerk and a wonderful surprise. the movie is a must see, and possibly a must own. it's dark and light and reminds me of a stage production more than a film. and the music -- wow! it's creepy and fanciful and completely delightful.

perhaps your part of the world is not blooming with lilacs as early as ours is, but if you've got any nearby, i suggest you take a walk and find something blooming and bury your face in the efflorescence of it.

and, finally, some photos by henry, and one of the photographer, himself.