okay, I give up. I'll never figure out why it's like a writing desk.

or what, precisely, is the equidistant word for shell and relic.

but I resolve not to let that dissuade me in my attempt.

(find that jung quote about irreplaceable idea? or no, what is it again. look it up.)

I told the girls they weren't tall enough to ride the make your own rules ride yet, and that they had to step out of that particular line, it wouldn't do any good to stretch up on their toes, the peas they planted that morning hadn't sprouted.

they didn't seem very upset. but it's a sunny day and I took them to an outdoor festival even though I really didn't want to go, and told them so. but I told them when you're a grownup you often put your own needs aside, and so they might as well suck it up - we were only going to do so many and no more of these sorts of things this summer and chances were it was going to be me picking them, and there was no sense making a fuss about it, after all, I am the queen and I do make the rules and it's true, you can't always get what you want, so saith the stones.

humpty dumpty. he's the one you want to talk to. all that fuss about the words meaning the right thing. that was the first book I ever bought with my own money and I still love it. I hope my daughters do too, one of them already does. I've been blessed with clever and beautiful girls, all three. but that wasn't the raven riddle, it was the tea party where that flew out of someone's mouth. not the march hare, certainly. must have been the mad hatter. the dormouse was so sleepy and all, but then again, my memory's bad today, lots of noise and oh! they had a reptile show there! at the carnival I mean. and a sleeping dormouse can rise up and surprise you, and did you know a rattlesnake can be dead and still bite you? and that I saw the most beautiful snake today, and I can't for the life of me remember his name but I will never forget that pattern, and his little cousin, rattling in his cereal box, afraid and ready to strike out at anything that moved too close.

I don't overuse exclamation points as a general rule. I don't care too much when I see them all over, and everything! is! said! breathlessly! like that. but then again, in a world where ur is accepted for your, anything goes, so sayeth mr. porter. but the snakes, well, I can't help it. I made purring noises when I saw them, I could have helped myself, I think, but didn't care to, they were gorgeous and they knew it.

anything goes:cole porter is the link in my head, is that right. I think it is and what does it matter in a larger sense anyway if I am or not, or know or don't because just because I'm right doesn't mean I'm sure about it, any more than just because I'm sure means I'm right, right? anyway. like I said, the memory is going. but that's fine. I liked learning these things the first time around, and if there is no such thing as an original sin - thank you, elvis, with your red shoes - then won't they be even sweeter when their time comes around again?

aging to perfection, baby, that's the name of my particular game. or at least it is today. these things have a tendency to change. springtimes come and go in the garden.