Thursday, August 6, 2009


I'm back in Seattle after a long, fabulous visit to my family. When I arrived last night our apartment looked familiar and strange at the same time. And also tiny! (It is.) I had been missing The Poet so much, but I was also tired from the plane that I wasn't swept away at our reunion. It was still very, very nice but mostly what I felt was I had a headache. I hate it when I'm too tired to feel what I normally would feel.

I was so fried from the plane I couldn't sleep-- I took extra herbs and vitamin E and lay in bed for awhile, but in the end I got up and ate the homemade ice cream (sweetened with honey) I knew was in the freezer. Alone in the kitchen-living room I took a deep breath and realized our apartment smells like cardamon with a hint of jasmine, plus a very faint smell of old books. It made me happy. These are all smells of The Poet, and mixed together they are also home.

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