tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59332229621204702412012-02-20T09:25:24.324-08:00Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comBlogger13091100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-69522898823773425202012-02-17T22:29:00.005-08:002012-02-20T09:25:24.338-08:00

Catch the wind, see us spin, sail away, leave the day, way up high in the sky.But the wind won't blow, you really shouldn't go, it only goes to showThat you will be mine, by taking our time.And if you say to me tomorrowOh what fun it all would be.Then what's to stop us, pretty babybut what is and what should never be.Lochlan poked his head into the kitchen just as I was putting away the last of

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-66291587577773452612012-02-17T13:05:00.005-08:002012-02-17T17:18:27.074-08:00

I lasted through the three extra cups of coffee this morning and now that the caffeine has worn off the pain is back.Ow, my head. This headache seems to show itself every third month and last for around five days. It's just lovely, thanks for asking. At least it's as predictable as the migraines used to be, maybe that's what it still is. I don't know. I've had bad headaches since I was a child,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-19147578313812550842012-02-16T13:35:00.004-08:002012-02-16T21:23:17.262-08:00

Sam is like me. When no one is around he turns the music up all the way and enters oblivion, letting the music soak in, marinating his flesh and his soul in melody.We get along so well it's disgusting. He's one of those people that is very easy to talk to, so when he invites me over I know it's time to talk and I drop everything and go.When I walked into the church this morning, I had the

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-41337077743779256202012-02-15T16:37:00.005-08:002012-02-15T21:42:35.009-08:00

Every year around this time I put on my tightest corseted business dress, my highest killer stilettos and pull my hair into a tight chignon, secured with a glossy black pencil. Then I pick up my calculator with its three hundred buttons and I get to work, doing taxes. For the whole collective.Every year I hold myself so tense I get headaches, neck aches and general all-over body aches. I have

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-19804270448306161022012-02-14T12:44:00.013-08:002012-02-14T16:27:44.451-08:00

(You want to know who the memory thief really is? Well, I'll give you an epic hint. It isn't me.)Complement the atmosphereFill the ground with all our tearsDry them up to make it clearWe do no wrongHe holds out a rose. He's covered with grease, and still in his dark blue coverall suit from the garage. He was late leaving the shop because the owner wanted him to finish a brake job and then wait

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-28903585357100392732012-02-11T10:46:00.004-08:002012-02-11T19:35:51.939-08:00

He presented me with the key. I jumped up and he lifted it way up over my head.Tank is full, CD player is empty. He winked and I grinned. How far? I ask eagerly. Turn at Callaghan lake. But don't go to the lake. Then to Mission if you still need to stay out. That's like four hours total. And four back. Stay under the speed limit. Yes, Dad. He laughed. I'll tell Ben you're going. I already did.

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-43556945049650043792012-02-10T07:46:00.005-08:002012-02-10T16:10:39.037-08:00

Why don't you come with me little girlOn a magic carpet rideWell, you don't know what we can seeWhy don't you tell your dreams to meFantasy will set you freeAnd just like that he shapeshifts back into devil-form, loathe to have anyone else connect the dots the way I can, making pictures of death where they intended a rainbow or perhaps a duckling. Caleb appeared at the kitchen door this morning,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-35215061093119078472012-02-09T19:54:00.000-08:002012-02-09T21:05:59.450-08:00

Jeans and a fisherman knit sweater. Hiking boots. Umbrella. Beard. Hair about four times longer than usual, for he has abandoned his monthly close crop and clean shave in favor of this rugged sort of casual mayhem of an appearance. I guess I didn't notice, to tell you the truth.And then I walked out onto the verandah to say goodbye to the children this morning and saw Cole and felt my heart drop

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-48197145014188682732012-02-08T16:56:00.005-08:002012-02-08T20:28:15.553-08:00

I've come here to sell you my bodyI can show you some good merchandiseI'll pull you and I'll pill youI'll Cruella De Vil youAnd to thrill you I'll use any deviceWe'll give you crazy performanceWe'll give you grounds for divorceWe'll give you piece de resistanceAnd a tour de forceOf courseAfter several hours of walking the halls, terrorizing gift-shop volunteers and staring into bottomless cups of

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-30661427099715733592012-02-07T13:29:00.004-08:002012-02-07T18:34:00.361-08:00

Don't put that on. It doesn't fit you anymore.He is standing in the doorway smiling at me. I scowl and turn back to my reflection. Says who? I ask myself in the mirror.I say. The color keeps you in the shadows and the fabric weight is far too much for a day like today. Plus it's one of your history dresses and this is a new day.He is right. The heavy black vintage brocade is against everything

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-72585275895382106772012-02-06T18:27:00.006-08:002012-02-07T17:03:19.287-08:00

I wanted to talk with Caleb about his conversation with Lochlan last week but he is running late and asks me to drive him down to the park so he can meet his dive group. He proceeds to turn the radio up in the car and fiddle with his watch the whole trip and generally evade my questions, and then once we arrive in the lot everyone descends on him and I am forced to stand and wait, keys in

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-34674870880840565072012-02-05T16:55:00.003-08:002012-02-05T20:45:16.382-08:00

Call no man foe, but never love a stranger. ~Stella BensonNew Jake is kicking at the smaller rocks along the water while I stay within reach and scowl at him. I am allowed to come down to the beach but only if I bring someone with me who can swim. Lovely. New Jake volunteered and when pressed to explain his eagerness he produced a pack of cigarettes and explained sheepishly that he is down to

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-40040081912384935832012-02-03T10:53:00.005-08:002012-02-03T13:32:05.707-08:00

I might not say I'm sorryYeah, I might talk rough sometimesAnd I might forget the little thingsOr keep you hanging on the lineIn a world that don't know Romeo and JulietBoy meets girl and promises we can't forgetWe are cast from Eden's gate with no regretsInto the fire we cry Bon Jovi came on the stereo this morning while I was painting and Lochlan scowled when I started to sing. His only beef

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-37597013258592400532012-02-02T19:52:00.007-08:002012-02-02T20:12:41.127-08:00

I was roused, kicking and screaming from slumber this morning and dragged outside onto the damp grass in the fog-shrouded morning sun, still dressed in my pajamas with my knotted, wild hair. I fought my handlers tooth and nail to go back to my dream until I was shoved gently to the center of the circle, wider by one this morning.I did not see my shadow.Spring will be early this year.Then I got my

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-51912775005982120642012-02-01T10:07:00.004-08:002012-02-01T10:28:46.166-08:00

It's not even ten a.m. and all this has happened so far:1. I dressed for painting and even wound my hair up in a bun and went downstairs and......and.........I forgot that I forgot to buy paint.2. Some idiot (Thank you Dalton!!) sent me a link to R.E.M. covering Don't Fear the Reaper and I squealed and squeaked for twenty minutes to the point where PJ wandered in looking for the hamster that must

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-176643554173157422012-01-31T20:23:00.002-08:002012-01-31T20:32:38.580-08:00

It's for Groundhug Day. Ben holds up a new flannel shirt. His old ones are all on nineties life-support.I am trying so hard not to laugh. And what is this groundhug day, exactly?A day where you get a lot of hugs and if you get enough, spring is just around the corner. Around the corner, like six weeks away? Yes. About that. I wonder what a groundhug looks like. I can give you an early preview, if

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-74145886287782481402012-01-30T15:34:00.001-08:002012-01-31T20:36:24.657-08:00

I warned you. Criteria for living here is that you must be thoroughly and hopelessly afflicted with Romantic Tourettes.I just want you to know who I am. He's been singing all day, at top volume, from his place flat on his back on the floor. Every twelve minutes he raises himself up on his elbows and takes a big gulp of whiskey* and he makes that stupid noise, some sort of Scottish click-version

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-37242289066914394332012-01-28T09:13:00.006-08:002012-01-28T09:51:44.484-08:00

I'm a little bit insolent today.I'm shooting another single cover this morning for a band, friends of Ben's (and sadly Caleb) from overseas (Industrial death metal. I can't spell or pronounce their name. I don't even have those characters on my keyboard.) Same group as last time though, they want to keep the theme.I don't know why they don't just use any picture they already have from the last

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-42018227627125657472012-01-27T10:27:00.004-08:002012-01-27T18:27:40.950-08:00

I need something to fly over my grave againI need something to breatheI will try not to burden youI can hold these inside. I will hold my breathUntil all these shivers subside,Just look in my eyesYesterday morning he wordlessly queued up Automatic for the People on the stereo, since he gets easily tired and tense of the endless heavy metal, the endless noise I perpetrate against the relative

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-80267396307815254322012-01-26T21:57:00.002-08:002012-01-26T21:59:31.722-08:00

I will try not to worry youI have seen things that you will never seeLeave it to memory me. Don’t dare me to breatheI want you to remember, oh (you will never see)I need something to fly (something to fly)Over my grave again (you will never see)I need something to breathe (something to breathe)Baby, don’t shiver now. Why do you shiver now?(I will see things you will never see)I need something to

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-40485792907904531892012-01-25T11:16:00.010-08:002012-01-25T18:15:02.167-08:00

Oh, hey, a little bit of everything.Ben is just fine, thanks for your concern. For the record he doesn't believe in that sort of thing and just says he felt so incredibly sick for a moment he thought it was the end and also for the record he didn't want to go to the ER. I did. He's so strong and brave and capable all of the time I didn't know what to do when he had a minute where he just needed

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-38649092651917411502012-01-24T12:51:00.004-08:002012-01-24T13:57:40.675-08:00

(Over the weekend Ben had some sort of episode. An acute anxiety attack, they say. He had some tests and he's fine. Fine. Still 95% goofball, 5% big scary metal rocker. I thought he was having a heart attack and I'm afraid I did not deal with things very well at all.)I've been watching you with my terminal viewAs you struggle to rise to your endI laughed hard at the insults we threwAs the weight

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-4462326803065708572012-01-22T14:43:00.007-08:002012-01-22T15:21:55.312-08:00

Today? A place high in the mountains with the streets made of stone and the sunshine and the bunting flags strung across the laneways. There is a lot of laughter and songs but not in English.What will we eat? Pizza. With garlic and goat cheese. Drink? Lemonade. Homemade. With ice. In a tall clear yellow glass. What else do you see? I'm wearing a ring. It's a pale pink faceted stone and a gold

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-65200386463962867562012-01-21T19:07:00.004-08:002012-01-21T19:44:26.775-08:00

Listen, hear, he is insideOne who lives while others lieI close my eyes and walk a thousand yearsA thousand years that aren't mineIt seems he's near me as I walkOne who loved what love deniedHe lives these years that I walk blindAll these years cannot be mineSoftly, I hear him begin counting. Under his breath the whispers are dispensed in turn, in order. It's a simple system. He starts at six and

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-41939585071235659292012-01-20T22:06:00.006-08:002012-01-20T22:53:57.177-08:00

I found the first three Great Brain books by J.D. Fitzgerald in with Lochlan's boxes of artwork. Lochlan used to read them to me at the lake. Yes, I could read when I was ten but I always thought it sounded better coming from him. I have put them on the shelf in Henry's room and can't wait for him to 'find' them. I'm not sure if he'll be able to, Henry's room is all planets and magic tricks. A

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-71660790455103032452012-01-19T11:32:00.012-08:002012-01-19T12:57:35.732-08:00

If you need me, Batman has all the pieces since he tore them off early this morning as I stood in his office while the sun came up grey and cold over the frosted harbour. The look on his face. I should have turned and left but he probably would have stopped me. There's nothing more horrible than being chastised like a child when one already feels like one in spite of the lies on the calendar

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-70030512519412084612012-01-18T21:16:00.008-08:002012-01-18T21:52:11.237-08:00

(So much trouble.)In fact you've got your hands tied behind your back when somebody chooses to take a low road in to you, there is nothing you can do about it, and so you just live with it and move on. ~Robert Redford I'm sitting in the club watching all of the men watch the girls. Peelers thinly disguised as quasi-burlesque performers and I'm the only girl in the

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-7420181340709680442012-01-17T10:26:00.003-08:002012-01-17T10:31:23.734-08:00

Hahahahaha. The boys who live here have flooded my inbox with videos of themselves singing. I am so lucky. Or cursed.Let me wade through the submissions and see who gets to stay.(I'm KIDDING! PJ can't even sing Happy Birthday properly. And he already left and then came back so no one's going to go through THAT again, thanks.)They have requested something of me though. That I stop dancing around

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-40577140360425409512012-01-16T15:30:00.005-08:002012-01-16T16:05:59.893-08:00

Someone asked in an email what the criteria was for joining my 'hippie commune' as they so sweetly called it.Easy. You have to sing this song. A cappella. Without your voice breaking at the 2:32 mark, after the bridge, naturally.Send video submissions to my email. We're always looking for new victims entertainment.(Snort.)

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-57166135336395752682012-01-15T20:01:00.003-08:002012-01-15T21:09:06.491-08:00

I'm sorry, Bridget. I really think you're spreading yourself too thin. I worry about you. I fear for your heart and your continued improvement when you degenerate into trying to please all of them.All of us, don't you mean?No, the houseful you have. I am a separate entity.It's the same thing, Cale.I didn't invite you here to argue, I invited you down for a bite to eat and a drink. What would

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-47631388656131190852012-01-13T16:47:00.006-08:002012-01-13T17:16:38.967-08:00

When I said he had no nickname you didn't actually believe me, did you? aluminum, tastes like fearadrenaline, it pulls us nearI'll take you overit tastes like fear, thereI'll take you overwill you live to eighty-three?will you ever welcome me?will you show me something that nobody else has seen?smoke it, drinkhere comes the floodanything to thin the bloodthese corrosives do their magic slowly and

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-15513917632288992212012-01-12T18:25:00.005-08:002012-01-12T21:32:06.696-08:00

Still sick. Kind of really sick but being treated and soon to be good as new. Or better than ever. Okay, at least no worse off than before.In other news, Lochlan's compiling the Time Life Collection of Quintessential Songs From The Past That Paralyze Bridget Like Nothing You've Ever Seen, Physically, Mentally and Emotionally.I thought the Rock Band game had that covered, since both collections

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-54362284002030276352012-01-11T20:43:00.004-08:002012-01-11T21:08:00.256-08:00

So...if you could...who would you bring back first? Freddie Mercury. I test Caleb's patience so. Bridget-I was just teasing. John Bonham for sure. Or Peter Steele. You know what? I'm not sure now.Are you going to make jokes all day? Jokes? That's the holy triad of unrequited bucket lists right there. Three bands I will never see intact, Queen, Zeppelin and Type-O Negative. You need to get with it

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-41847576521679571352012-01-09T21:53:00.001-08:002012-01-09T21:55:46.777-08:00

She dreams in colorShe dreams in red.Ten minutes after eleven I make it back inside, slip off my shoes by the door and tiptoe upstairs. Cole is sitting in the hall on the top step in the dark.We'll have to add some hot water, he says as he gets up and walks back into our room.I follow him right into the bathroom where he has a million candles lit and a deep steaming bubblebath ready.He turns to

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-8464248822096695042012-01-08T20:57:00.004-08:002012-01-09T07:19:06.549-08:00

He's down on the back patio practicing with his torches. Eating fire. Slow burn tricks and human lighter stunts that make me smile. Showy stuff. His arm still hurts. They refused to cast it anymore. He refused to let them anymore. He said it will heal on its own, eventually.I am inside, washing pots and pans, watching closely since he is out there alone. I turn and quickly scan the room for my

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-53260584534941133052012-01-07T11:58:00.004-08:002012-01-07T18:29:39.443-08:00

I didn't mind the wait. I was watching the sunlight kiss the waves. All the way out past the sandbars where the whitecaps threatened even the best of swimmers. I swam out there once and only once. It was exhilarating, terrifying and life-changing. I'd like to do it again only that sort of courage is hard to muster and harder to maintain.I can feel my skin starting to burn. I frown and pull out my

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-72604376094796573792012-01-06T17:53:00.006-08:002012-01-06T22:15:23.112-08:00

(Oh, hello, she says as she turns around to acknowledge your presence. I don't know why you jumped. After all you were the one who went looking for her. And you always find what you're looking for.)I was going to come in here and distract you with flighty, nonsense words. I was going to show you my resolutions for the new year. I was going to share my hopes with you, and my plans to become a

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-47182575241493073342012-01-05T17:01:00.002-08:002012-01-05T17:01:38.615-08:00

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-23440075610202788282012-01-05T08:44:00.006-08:002012-01-05T09:39:21.544-08:00

It's seven in the morning and Ben and I are sitting on the cliff, legs swinging.What do we do now?Live in the moment, baby.I don't think I like this particular set of moments.Okay then, let's drink some coffee and watch the sun come up.And then what after that?You plan too much. What about just taking things as they come?What about actively seeking your dreams?Tell me your dreams.I don't know

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-22792584700180402652012-01-04T13:54:00.005-08:002012-01-05T09:29:41.056-08:00

Bury all your secrets in my skinCome away with innocence, and leave me with my sinsThe air around me still feels like a cageAnd love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage againSo if you love me, let me go.And run away before I know.My heart is just too dark to care.I can't destroy what isn't there.Deliver me into my fateIf I'm alone I cannot hateI don't deserve to have youMy smile was

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-83808969933247548382012-01-03T08:53:00.004-08:002012-01-03T09:19:27.319-08:00

Every whisperOf every waking hourI'm choosing my confessionsTrying to keep an eye on youLike a hurt lost and blinded foolOh no, I've said too muchI set it upConsider thisConsider this the hint of the centuryConsider thisThe slip that brought me to my knees failedWhat if all these fantasiesCome flailing aroundI've said too muchBen confronts me late last evening in the upstairs hall.What's the

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-76129492311582511872012-01-02T08:20:00.011-08:002012-01-02T21:02:04.209-08:00

(The pearls and cameo pinks competed with the cerulean and cyan streaks of blue for attention this morning and they had it from darkness onward. Rapt. Hypnotized by a moment and she went back for more, standing on the back steps watching the pinks dissolve and the brightest blues fade into pale representations of themselves. The culmination of warm light with such vibrant colors is a gift, albeit

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-64534242199780558452012-01-01T17:55:00.013-08:002012-01-01T21:17:12.145-08:00

(The crush has loomed long on the beat poet too, but we mostly ignore it. I still worry about him though.)Duncan is standing outside in the pale sun. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, sunglasses in place, he strikes a casual pose on the edge of the lower cliff on the opposite side of the backyard, where I rarely go because the view is better on the right side, away from the city, toward the open

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-66271494927694792502011-12-31T16:14:00.006-08:002011-12-31T16:42:58.366-08:00

2011.What can I say about you?I'm grateful for our health, for our continued independence and for our safety, relative to those times in earlier years (and mere weeks ago) when it could not be guaranteed. I'm grateful for the music, the warm house and the beautiful views, a stack of books to draw in and games to play, a reading pile as tall as myself and arms that are always open for me, not

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-61023832247017773932011-12-30T22:24:00.002-08:002011-12-30T22:26:20.651-08:00

Ha. Doing shots and drawing entire Jethro Tull album covers from memory. Not sure who our social coordinator is in this house but clearly she is awesomes.

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-71709458758695711652011-12-29T15:00:00.010-08:002011-12-30T00:57:52.439-08:00

The money from the sale of Caleb's waterfront condo was earmarked and I didn't realize it.Caleb is still eating crow, crow that costs a fortune, crow that must taste like caviar and dreams or he would have stopped by now and reverted back. All diurnal business has ground to a halt, anyway. The nocturnal kind is not up for discussion.When people ask he simply says he decided to retire early and

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-28584282281637979012011-12-28T21:19:00.003-08:002011-12-29T00:12:46.928-08:00

Last night I took two of the snowman cookies and put them on a plate. When everyone was busy I slipped out of the house undetected (no worries, the alarms only go off if I leave the relative safety of the backyard, toward the cliffs, not if I step onto the driveway) and took the plate to the garage. I unlocked the side door of the garage and went inside. It was pitch dark at ground level in spite

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-53396986662771575032011-12-27T13:55:00.005-08:002011-12-27T15:48:17.304-08:00

Do you remember this?That qualified as the World's Most Amazing Christmas Present. The ocean in my arms. The beach. Everything I love in a hand-built box, personalized with my name. I still open it every single day. I have worn the paint off the lid. Some of the roses are missing. There is still sand everywhere all the time because I can't leave well enough alone.And Ben is still listening,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-19807342453228237102011-12-26T20:34:00.005-08:002011-12-26T20:40:19.853-08:00

In lieu of not actually having time to sit down and compose a proper entry, I thought I would fly by and share Ben's annual (and always different but always goofy) Vampire Christmas jokes with you:What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?Frostbite!What does a vampire always get his lover for Christmas?Something en-grave-d!And the last one, which brought dinner to a brief standstill

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-50670294512931640802011-12-24T19:49:00.006-08:002011-12-24T21:09:33.516-08:00

My mother, on the phone this morning, reminds me I had the flu last Christmas too and sure enough, she's right. It's as if I can just flip the switch from keeping the household running smoothly to standing on the platform above it, throwing furniture into the gears until it pops and shudders and explodes into certain ruin. When I am this sick things get done in interesting ways or at interesting

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-28640128546351328632011-12-23T23:08:00.005-08:002011-12-23T23:20:37.721-08:00

Today I'm watching the Leafs, Canucks and Jets standings in the NHL and I'm watching boy movies (Conan, Rise of the Planet of the Apes) and I'm nursing a midrange fever that just won't quit and I'm watching my husband swim across a creek up in the mountains on a day when I can't even feel my fingers, it's so cold up there and I had to put his clothes on a rock because they were too heavy and I

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-82570353613042943282011-12-22T19:07:00.005-08:002011-12-23T10:38:43.766-08:00

When he walked into the room I rushed over, wrist held up, bracelet out with a silent request for an extra hand to put it on. I can't fasten the catch with my left hand. It frustrates me every single day.The Christmas whorenament needs help? No problem. He reaches for the bracelet but I snatch it back.What the fuck.Do you need to publicly detail your evenings?Do you want a job as editor? Because

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-49688982110489116642011-12-21T18:28:00.005-08:002011-12-21T21:03:06.325-08:00

(This will just be all conundrums and confusion to you. Tough.)His good hand comes up under my chin, pushing my head up.Look at me, he whispers.If I do that it's all over. Obediently I meet his eyes. We are squared and there's a far-away sound of everything falling into place.His arms pull me in, pull me down into the cool cotton sheets and I break his gaze by closing my eyes. I don't want to

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-71457805788584061642011-12-20T23:05:00.008-08:002011-12-21T10:18:38.735-08:00

It's 11:15 and Lochlan has poured me a honey Jack Daniels and eggnog to drink so that I sleep tonight. It's so strong I can feel my brain crackling as I take small gulps even after being warned multiple times to sip it slowly. They say the same thing about coffee. You should SEE how fast I can drink a boiling hot cup of coffee. It's just DUMB.What a glorious day. I walked around sipping my coffee

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-24068392956653343922011-12-19T18:23:00.006-08:002011-12-19T19:35:04.395-08:00

(I don't have to remind you at this point that I don't actually call him 'Batman' to his face, do I?)Batman has outfitted his floor to ceiling windows with those incredible lights that drop color down the line in stages, like the lights on the big tree at Kitsilano. All of the windows. I'm so hypnotized by Christmas lights, it almost isn't fair that they're going to conduct their Mine is bigger

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-12773494454400358422011-12-18T21:28:00.003-08:002011-12-18T21:48:05.807-08:00

Oh war is the common cry,Pick up you swords and fly.The sky is filled with good and badthat mortals never know.Oh, well, the night is longthe beads of time pass slow,Tired eyes on the sunrise,waiting for the eastern glow.The pain of war cannot exceedthe woe of aftermath,The drums will shake the castle wall,the ring wraiths ride in black, Ride on.Sing as you raise your bow,shoot straighter than

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-2867769069462297542011-12-17T21:53:00.004-08:002011-12-17T22:54:54.659-08:00

Standing on the grass sipping a hot coffee, I am smiling at the lights. Many of the boats have Christmas lights up. I am gleeful about it. Everything looks so beautiful. The lights are stunning, doubled in the reflection of the water, punctuating the night with LED sparkles. Mentally I will my whole body to turn to stone so I can stay here, and be a slight, regal version of an Easter Island

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-6151916450607050622011-12-16T13:29:00.002-08:002011-12-16T13:32:56.958-08:00

I knew for sure last night when I asked Ruth to return her scissors, markers and tape to the basket on her desk. This morning when I went into her room to put her folded laundry on her bed, the scissors, markers and tape were sitting on the desk right in front of the basket.Who does that? Goes all the way to a different floor only to be too indifferent to put the supplies back where they belong,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-26966311368202714552011-12-14T20:38:00.006-08:002011-12-14T22:11:51.263-08:00

Thank you for your concerned emails, I realize posting an entry Sunday and then nothing since would throw the Internet into a tizzy, I just didn't realize how large. So in order to put your minds at ease, I didn't do any of the following, in case you heard otherwise:1. Die.2. Eat so much rice from the new rice cooker that I explode like a wren at a spring church wedding.3. Run off with Robert

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-37725064745679830012011-12-11T21:01:00.005-08:002011-12-11T21:33:04.432-08:00

I found Santa sitting in a plush throne at a virtually empty shopping mall. It was late, past the dinner hour and the crowds have all but vanished.He was reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, an airport paperback concealed inside a larger, hollow book that purported to be the list of all of the children in the world who had been naughty or nice. The Book of Lists. I always wonder which one my

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-88690441201896936292011-12-10T14:20:00.006-08:002011-12-10T18:54:59.251-08:00

In this life, you're the one place I call homeIn this life, you're the feeling I belongIn this life, you're the flower and the thornYou're everything that's fair in love and warI am consuming song lyrics in overdrive, every arrangement better than the next. I'm scrambling to hit the repeat button so I can hear them again and memorize them by heart as I lay in the feather bed under the struggling

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-15756848496723477342011-12-09T09:44:00.007-08:002011-12-09T22:28:55.672-08:00

This lightning stormThis tidal waveThis avalanche, I'm not afraid.C'mon, c'mon no one can see me cry.We're back on the stone patio in the freezing cold morning. I can see my breath. Today I wish I didn't have to see him. The further we get from Wednesday the more angry and guilty I feel. Shameful. Filthy and corrupted.You're an adult. You make your own decisions. Since when, Lochlan? I'm not

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-42905205337724587222011-12-08T17:18:00.018-08:002011-12-09T09:22:41.731-08:00

Little supernovas in my headLittle soft pulses in my deadLittle souvenirs and secrets sharedLittle off guard and unpreparedI was never good enough to findI was never bad enough to mindIn the middle I will do my bestTake me in your arms and leave the rest(I'm trying to keep my cool but Jacob is standing behind me screaming and I can't concentrate. I can't think. I can't hear anything. I can't

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-27598058212851256342011-12-07T17:41:00.012-08:002011-12-08T10:48:45.868-08:00

Today I got lost in the Bay store in Coquitlam. Then I got lost in the mall, proper. Then Zellers because I had to get a Hero Factory dude for Henry and do you think they could put toys at the front of the store to..lure people in? Nope. At the back. And the aisles are the tallest I've ever seen. It was horrible. It was dark. It sucked. I can't wait for Target to move in.Notice both stores I was

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-91150563491479693442011-12-06T18:07:00.007-08:002011-12-06T20:54:41.618-08:00

What used to be a house of cards has turned into a reservoirSave the tears that were waterfallingLet's go swim tonight, darlingAnd once outside the undertowJust you and me, and nothing moreIf not for love, I would be drowningI've seen it work both waysBut I am up riding high amongst the wavesWhere I can feel like I have a soul that has been savedWhere I can feel like I've put away my early

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-87694836937285042942011-12-05T13:50:00.004-08:002011-12-05T14:51:09.178-08:00

Today has been a comedy of errors. Thought I was a week behind. Then I ran out of tape. Then I couldn't find a box. Then I found out ALL of the school pictures I ordered were bizarre sizes, so none of the frames fit.I finally had the away/East coast packages ready to deploy and jumped in the car and hit the highway and.....went in the wrong direction.Got to the post office forty minutes later (

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-40886355242220896442011-12-05T07:31:00.003-08:002011-12-05T07:38:25.679-08:00

(This is not the day's post.)If you are waiting for me to write about Ben's birthday, you will hold your breath for a while, possibly until you black out and fall over. He requested that I keep it the way it was. Private, intimate. Close. He is forty-three now and he says he doesn't feel a day over twenty-three.I did not know Ben when he was twenty-three, but from what I hear he was a real

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-76157032788473472322011-12-04T21:37:00.006-08:002011-12-04T22:13:43.949-08:00

Today I found an axe.I was condensing a shelf full of camping supplies and jammed deep down in one of the big expedition backpacks I found it. Unsharpened, blackened and quite demure, it slid awkwardly out of the case and I laughed out loud. The last time I saw this was during one of our winter excursions to Keji for backcountry camping, long before the children were born.I remember being afraid

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-42028679587150918322011-12-03T19:40:00.007-08:002011-12-04T20:53:09.066-08:00

I'm gonna ask you to look awayI love my hands, but it hurts to prayLife I have isn't what I've seenThe sky is not blue and the field's not greenToday was all Ben, all the time. He in his Hardcore Bagpiping t-shirt, and I in my military jacket. Matching jeans, matching smiles. Fingers touching, hearts woven tight.It was freezing on the beach. Not our beach, a different one. Across the bridge and

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-88870715470200066662011-12-02T13:07:00.007-08:002011-12-02T21:49:36.378-08:00

Over breakfast in a luxurious restaurant this morning Batman took a turn roasting my flesh over the coals. Drinking during a weekday. Ghosts in the garage. What was I thinking?I played the widow card. When he had lost what I have, twice over, then and only then can he judge my behavior.He didn't bite so I turned the tides, drowning him in his own failures for a change. His weaknesses. Hit him

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-33176329805490894372011-12-01T15:44:00.003-08:002011-12-01T15:49:19.771-08:00

(GO AWAY. This is not for you.)Too small to keep. That was beautiful, princess. You think? Fuck you, they don't have wi-fi in heaven. Who reads to you? Sam reads out loud and I hear him sometimes. Do you miss it? No, I hated being able to see what's on your mind. We all did but at the same time it's incredibly useful. Your brain is a trainwreck. No one can look away.No, you know what's useful? I

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-83536790914300966022011-11-30T15:04:00.006-08:002011-11-30T16:28:37.211-08:00

(You've forgotten who the prodigal son is, in this case. Think hard, he's difficult to miss, at six-foot-four).Caleb's putting his fortune to good use. Today we've had a parade of municipal inspectors, engineers and contractors down to see about putting in a removable floating dock. They have to pour concrete pilings and everything. I just can't wait.I figured I would just be banned from going

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-80743219174644183892011-11-29T13:45:00.006-08:002011-11-29T21:32:00.925-08:00

So. I fell into the ocean this afternoon and if it weren't for all this brandy and the fact that I'm waiting for Lochlan to stop fighting with everything that breathes I wouldn't have even told you. Considering she said I was too small to keep she did her best, as I was in jeans, boots and a heavy wool coat. The boulders piled up where the drop off is, where the boats can moor in sailing season,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-22601309946253861562011-11-28T19:15:00.002-08:002011-11-28T19:34:23.749-08:00

Come pull the sheet over my eyes so I can sleep tonightDespite what I've seen todayI found you guilty of a crime of sleeping at a timeWhen you should have been wide awakeToo small to keep, he says and smiles. I like that she says that about you. It means I can have you back. Ben is sacked out on the couch. I have thrown myself into his arms and I'm never ever leaving this spot. You can't make me,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-31459581538149502892011-11-26T19:34:00.005-08:002011-11-26T20:04:16.883-08:00

High tide: 7:08 am, 4:56 pmLow tide: 12:27 pmHis face is soft from three weeks worth of beard growth, his hair uncut since the spring. I am blocked in against the granite of the island. The lights are off and the kitchen is grey, lit only by the skylights above as the rain pours in sheets down the glass. I can't hear it, I feel the rumble, a quavery-light undercurrent to the air, thick and heavy

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-43847959267983697952011-11-25T20:32:00.004-08:002011-11-25T21:13:07.375-08:00

I am the crisisI am the bitter endI'm gonna gun this downI am dividedI am the razor edgethere is no easy nowSam walked in through the front door and got busy shaking the rain off of his things and carefully hanging his coat on a free hook. I waited patiently in the archway for him to get organized. He straightened his hair and then his tie, ending with his collar and then he bent down and picked

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-64068098000098512052011-11-24T10:10:00.003-08:002011-11-24T13:48:22.072-08:00

My soul is paintedlike the wings of butterfliesFairy tales of yesterdaywill grow but never dieI can fly, my friends!I'm not sure if my throat hurts from an entire morning singing along with Freddy Mercury while incense burned and I cleaned the entire house or if I've managed to finally catch the cold that's been knocking down everyone in this house, one after another. When one of them stands back

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-86071900422328672782011-11-23T13:16:00.005-08:002011-11-23T18:45:17.150-08:00

(Who's the juggler now?)I'm sitting on the quilt. It's some sort of designer Egyptian affair and cost more than my car. I love the embroidery, it should be scratchy and too beautiful to touch but instead it's soft, it's like being enveloped in a cloud. I don't know what it's filled with. He said something about Icelandic eiderdown, but I'm pretty sure this devil reached down the throats of every

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-12488409972607957352011-11-22T15:19:00.004-08:002011-11-22T18:39:39.836-08:00

I've never had a lecture while I was getting laid before. Ever. This is a first.Ben's hands wrap around my hips as he drives his points home. I am crushed underneath him, locked against him and I am desperately trying not to pay attention. He's forcing me to with exquisitely sharp twinges of pain exacted as he pleases to maintain my focus. He's incorrigible. He's delicious. He's maddeningly right

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-60996940007687958912011-11-21T16:59:00.001-08:002011-11-21T18:45:15.684-08:00

(Picking up from here.)Once all of the doors to his rooms were locked and we were in the bedroom by the window, Lochlan held the envelope in front of him in shaking hands.There would have been no fanfare if I wasn't, peanut.Just open it.I can't. He's a leaf in the wind, shaking, pale, serious. I'm not doing any better. My mind is racing, my heart is reeling. The house is so quiet. I am trying to

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-7464396030576256592011-11-20T11:56:00.002-08:002011-11-20T12:01:23.035-08:00

Aw for fucks sakes. Eleah died. Amyrn's mother. The giraffe. Now only Jafari (dad) remains. They say she may have died of heartbreak. I am so sad.

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-80278608588631268542011-11-18T12:52:00.012-08:002011-11-18T17:29:52.528-08:00

About that envelope.(Bear with me. Some things are safer coming in bits and pieces.)On this day I learned something interesting. (I find it weird that the link doesn't point to the title of the post, but says 'Lochlan'. That's bizarre.)And on this day, we learned something once again. (See? The link has the title of the post in it, if FATE ISN'T PLAYING A HUGE JOKE ON ME NOW THEN PLEASE FILL ME

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-43322569427750388542011-11-17T13:40:00.004-08:002011-11-17T15:10:56.319-08:00

Show me a house with a windowOne with a garage and five bedroomsForm me a line so I can judge youCall me a name if you want toShow me a way to the exitLook at my hands, see them shakingTell me apart from my shadowFind me a life for this shadow All of the fire has fallen and we have returned to the deepest greens of the ocean against the blues and greys of the sky. I missed color. I missed pine

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-15144236480857221492011-11-16T13:36:00.004-08:002011-11-16T21:05:08.416-08:00

Sam lets me drink coffee all damn day and play the music as loud as I want to in the sanctuary.(Same as Jake always did.)I will be here if anyone needs me. Playing secretary for ten bucks an hour, only the phone never rings and Sam has already done everything else.Update: Awesome news. If you've never been, you should go. It's second to none, and certainly shouldn't be seventh, but I might be

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-73237999002532818352011-11-14T17:50:00.003-08:002011-11-14T18:03:27.150-08:00

Amyrn (on the right) 12/20/2007-11/14/2011I was writing some stupid entry about nothing in particular when I stopped and looked at the news for a few minutes.Oh, sadness.I took this picture of Amyrn and his father, Jafari in July and wrote about it here. Amyrn came right over to the fence when I stuck my head over the top of it. He stayed there staring at me forever and I stared right back. The

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-14771555961347523742011-11-12T22:39:00.005-08:002011-11-13T09:13:14.695-08:00

(Wait here for me, princess.)I found him sitting on the bench on the darker side, just out of reach of the single fixture of light that swayed gently in the wind. The snow was falling steadily and still he seemed unprepared in jeans and his green corduroy jacket with the pale blue flannel shirt, white undershirt visible under his open collar, workboots unlaced and wide open. His hair is so long

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-88672796824143818682011-11-11T19:45:00.000-08:002011-11-11T19:46:56.038-08:00

Tonight when the clouds came down to touch the earth, I was there.

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-18086859257955615552011-11-10T20:59:00.002-08:002011-11-10T21:21:41.863-08:00

(For the record, they were too large and therefore never used.)He's standing on the patio having another cigar. Slay me with a feather, for I still love the smell so much it hurts. But I can feel the spectre of Cole eroding a little more each day and I have to work so hard to remember dumb things. His voice. The mannerisms I only witness now through Caleb, and the memories I fight my way out of

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-17228925133366674652011-11-09T21:35:00.003-08:002011-11-09T22:08:35.976-08:00

There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere Man. ~Edgar Allan Poe These random late-night vodka-fueled discourses usually put me in hot water anyway, what difference does it make?Every

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-44922184273829850172011-11-08T21:03:00.010-08:002011-11-09T07:23:43.840-08:00

I'll keep it short and mean. (Typically, you say). There never was anything sweet about our mutual blame game.Note to self: Never piss off the one who controls the internet. Because he can see that it's down and 'not have time' to fix it until he gets home, long after supper, long after Bridget's spent her online time sporadically squinting at the four-inch display on her phone, which retreated

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-48228474476729079182011-11-07T15:17:00.004-08:002011-11-07T16:40:37.990-08:00

This morning I was again outside in the rain, this time restricted to the patio, for PJ was busy and couldn't come out. I always listen when he tells me I'm not allowed to set foot on the grass. I'm considering having a trapeze erected so that I can make my way to the cliff and still heed his instructions. Each time I threaten that he counters with the suggestion of charging people money to come

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-66081325895105599482011-11-06T20:38:00.005-08:002011-11-06T21:21:01.631-08:00

Aw, Jakey. Why did you do it?I'll stand out on the cliff as long as they allow it. I have black four dresses on. Two cotton, two wool. Thick black wool tights wrinkle around my knees and ankles and I've chosen my doc boots simply because the tights don't work with much else. My black shawl rounds out this fantastic ensemble and I have pinned up my hair but the wind had other plans so I'll just

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-41071103919346908172011-11-05T21:23:00.003-07:002011-11-05T22:01:30.245-07:00

Our bed we live, our bed we sleepMaking love and I become youFlesh is warm with naked feetStabbing thorns and you become meOh, I'd beg for you.Oh, you know I'll beg for you.I didn't run. Well, I tried but then Ben was there and he reverse-engineered my itinerary and paced with me at the airport until my knees gave out and my phone died and I asked him if we could just go home and for one of the

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-13940334295520650682011-11-04T12:43:00.004-07:002011-11-04T13:42:18.456-07:00

Can you hear me?I was doing very well, you know.I had ignored the calendar and I threw myself into watching a different history play out in front of my eyes as Caleb makes his home a stone-throw away and Lochlan rises to the challenge of everything before him with a determination I haven't seen from him in a while.Ben. Ben's been around. He's been intuitive and funny and sweet as always. He puts

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-28865357877953412152011-11-03T09:46:00.014-07:002011-11-03T18:30:25.114-07:00

Have no fear for when I'm aloneI'll be better off than I was beforeI've got this lightI'll be around to growWho I was before I cannot recallLong nights allow me to feel I'm fallingI am fallingThe lights go outLet me feel I'm fallingI am falling safely to the groundHe has moved on to singing Long Nights under his breath, and I'm left with the lyrics floating around in my mind, turning them over

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-26269593736123745062011-11-02T16:36:00.004-07:002011-11-02T17:04:13.444-07:00

I'm not gonna lieI want you for mineMy blushing brideMy lover, be my loverDon't be afraidI didn't mean to scare youSo help me, JesusOh my fuck. Lochlan's Elmer Fudd-rendition of Possum Kingdom is slaying me. He is home early. Everyone has bad colds. Welcome to Fall, right? The seasons change and the temperatures fluctuate just enough to tilt all the germs back into the house and now we have to go

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-2793934346934806542011-11-01T12:10:00.007-07:002011-11-01T16:31:00.249-07:00

Because Daniel and Schuyler are packing today to move to their house, because by Friday Satan will be residing here and because musical boys seem to be the order of the day, here: a fresh video for you by a band that I adore.I know I seem very uptight and hard-edged and have this reputation as the tiny moody troll queen of heavy metal, I assure you that I'm not (okay, not all the time, anyway,

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-409421899858920142011-10-31T09:46:00.002-07:002011-10-31T09:53:38.068-07:00

This would be a love story, and for once it isn't mine. Come celebrate with me and I'll tell you a few things about our weekend.I read bad poetry into your machineI save your messages just to hear your voice.You always listen carefully to awkward rhymes.You always say your name like I wouldn't know it's you,At your most beautiful.I've found a way to make youI've found a waya way to make you

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-72127051189915767432011-10-30T20:38:00.004-07:002011-10-30T20:44:15.694-07:00

We are home.I need to unpack, do a whole lot of laundry, carve pumpkins (I wrote crave pumpkins three times there before I could get it straight and now I can't stop laughing) and maybe sleep for the first time since about last Monday.Yes.Good times. Such good times.So...more tomorrow! Thanks for your patience. Sorry for the mixed up emails to those of you who got responses tonight. I'm really

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-84231124712570795602011-10-26T16:45:00.004-07:002011-10-26T17:49:14.091-07:00

I always wonder why did we bother,Distanced from one, deaf to the other.Oh but sweetness followsIt's these little things, they can pull you under.Live your life filled with joy and wonder.I always knew this altogether thunderWas lost in our little lives.Everything is in. Everything is done. I've flipped the last latch, buckled the cases, triple-confirmed all the deliveries, crossed off the list

Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.com