a curious day

It is nearly midnight. This time of night lately has me curled up in bed beneath two blankets two kittens and a book. But not this night. I am exhausted and dried up from too much salt, but to-day's story must be told. Or expelled.

The day began with more green on the tree outside of our bedroom window and little Sørny wanting bitside. That is, outside. I was loaded with energy and determined to finish Peg and Awl tags and logo et cetera and postcards for upcoming shows. Sørny and I went bitside, he to play with his new birthday toys in the dirt and around my delicate little seedlings, me with a sketchbook and some olde tools scattered about.

But then I remembered my appointment at The Birth Center. I took off, half eating my lunch. The day was beautiful and I listened to the Everything is Illuminated soundtrack and made up my own words. And then I heard the little baby's hearbeat. And then I was headed home. On the way home I thought it important to call Katie back. We talked about the current exhibit at the Met - Playing with Pictures: The Art of Victorian Photocollage and suddenly there was a face in my window that told me to pull up on the curb in front of the zoo. I dropped the phone and did as I was told. It just so happens that the day before my wallet was rescued by Walter and tucked into the back pocket of his pants. AND my license had expired last May. I wasn't showing up in the Philadelphia system and it seemed that I was going to be arrested. With the expired license no. I was eventually saved from the cuffs but the tow truck was already on its way. I began to empty out my belongings onto the little triangle of grass in front of the zoo and surrounded by many many onlookers in cars. It just so happened that my dress was very short - especially with my belly growing rounder. As I leaned in the back to clear out the rest of my treasures I heard a crash. My officers then had something new to take care of. I continued to empty the car. Against the tree was one big golden frame from the 1800s. One very olde tiger made from real fur. One cat skull. A tripod. A Holga. An antique and very large coffin like glove box filled with loads of other treasures. I called my dad, after all, my car was in the shoppe and I was borrowing one of his. He just so happened to be at traffic court picking up a truck that one of his guys wrecked and left. I told him to wait and I soon showed up. I couldn't free the car though until I showed the registration. That was at papa's office. Walter Søren and I headed there and Walter's truck began to smoke. The brakes had locked. Soon we had returned to traffic court where the judge recognised my pa from just a bit ago, laughed, and gave me a little bit of a break in the tickets. We then head over to the tow place and my pa, received a list of tickets for over 1700 dollars in since the 1990s. My brothers doinds. I was exhausting my already famished body making Sørny laugh in the car. I looked over and saw a goat in the parking lot. A baby goat. Søren and I got out of the car to pet him. My dad picked up the car from the lot and proceeded to smash it into his other car that we drove there in.

We went to dinner and I ordered a most delicious quinoa and bean burger with smoked coconut on top. Stuck to the bottom however, was a very chewy unidentifiable object which I believe may have been meat. It is now 12:04 and I am exhausted and thirsty.

Who will read this anyway? And why would I want anyone to?