Saturday stats.

Hours spent at home today (between waking and bedtime): 3

Sugar pumpkins purchased at the farmer's market: 2

Hours spent at a part-time faculty workshop this morning: 3

Days since our oven worked: 21

Percentage of crossword puzzle finished: 5

Number of times I listened to 'Surf's Up' on the way to Orem: 5

Minutes I slept when I got home: 45

Scary stories I heard on This American Life: 4+

Number of movies we saw this weekend: 0

The time I hope to wake up tomorrow morning: 8:30 a.m.

Assorted things I do not approve of: horror movies. The vast amount talking about work I do. Failing to see movies on the weekend. Working, as in going in to work, on the weekend. Not getting enough sleep. The fact that my oven is out of commission. The fact that the previous fact means I have to go to GD Lowes and order on and arrange for it to be put.

On the other hand, things of which I do approve: a croissant at the farmer's market. Sugar pumpkins. The hope of an oven and, therefore, baking. Friends. Visiting my parents and my sister. Eating a sandwich. Laughing. A nap. Listening to This American Life. Getting a #nachoselfie from my Scotland daughter. Seeing pictures from my kids on Instagram. Talking to my kids in general.

Sunday looks like it will be even better than Saturday, and Saturday has been good. Stay tuned.

A few statements I would like to make.

After years--years--of being on the verge of a total breakdown, my oven finally gave us the finger. By that, I mean it kept on flashing an 'F1' on the control panel and beeping repeatedly. If that's not a big fat insult, I don't know what is.

In other news, we will be buying a new oven tomorrow.

Oven breakdowns, flipping the breakers so we could unplug all the wires behind the control panel that looked like they were the ones in charge of beeping, and so on, did not deter us from our nightly rounds. By this, I mean we went to see The Martian. Which was excellent.

Tomorrow, my writing group is coming over. Suddenly, all my lunch plans feel oven-centric.

Fine, soup.

When we were in Scotland, my daughter's oven broke down all of a sudden and it did not work nor did it get fixed the entire time we were there. I think there's a definite pattern here.

I intend to get in bed tonight and sleep like an international prize-winning sleeper. Sleep: I am coming for you.

We got up first thing.

At our grandson's soccer game, at the crack of dawn, or, like 8:30 a.m.:

The historian: This is so great.

We're looking east. The sun is up, over the mountains, and shining pretty much straight into our faces. The game is wonderful. The air is perfect. It's early.

Tall boy, right fullback, second half of the game. #carter

A photo posted by Lisa Bickmore (@megastore) on Sep 26, 2015 at 8:37am PDT

Me: It's wonderful.

The historian: Even being out early in the morning.

Me: No. No, the historian. But it gradually gets better.

___

After the game, I was planning to go out in the world, all over West Valley City, for a little project I'm working on. I had my camera, my intervalometer, my tripod, my Nemesis Handbag, my iPhone, my laptop, all ready to go.

West west side. #WVC

A photo posted by Lisa Bickmore (@megastore) on Sep 26, 2015 at 10:00am PDT

Selfie at the lifeworld mall. #WVC #metaphor

A photo posted by Lisa Bickmore (@megastore) on Sep 26, 2015 at 2:39pm PDT

It would just be me and the world and my own mind. And all my gear. And then I was going to go in to my office to work, research, write. But:

Me: (rummaging in my handbag, which seems intent upon my defeat.) Cursing expletive curse words [ < not my actual words]! Where are my cursing keys?

___

After the shoot:

Me: (looking in the window of my office, like a common creeper:) There you are. (My keys. Sitting like smug bastards on my desk.)

Saturday field notes.

Woke up at seven--Bruiser scratching at the door. Woke again at nine. Went out for milk, bananas, a raspberry filled doughnut for the historian, a chocolate bar for my son. Made and ate pancakes.

Drove down to see my parents, with the happy added surprise that my two sisters and several of my nieces were at the house when I arrived. We ate lunch, talked about college plans for the nieces. I admired the new shutters on my parents' windows.

In the car, accompanied by Ira Glass and this beautiful story (the audio essay will be available tomorrow here). My little cold that I thought I had Mucinex'd into submission made a return on the drive home. I came in the door, greeted Bruiser, heard about the historian's day, and fell into sleep. No movie for us, then.

Woke. We ate leftover saag paneer and shrimp tikka masala from earlier in the week. Watched L.A. Story on cable. 20% too much whimsy, but also this, which redeems most of it. Finished Thursday's crossword from the New York Times. Ate two Thin Mints and five Trefoils.

Now: ready for more sleep more sleep more sleep.

How Saturday feels.

Waking up once, when it's still gray. Lightening, but still gray. Sorting out the first-thing calculus, what day it is, what there is to be awake for. Realizing: nothing but the day itself. And sleeping again for another hour, hour and a half. Whatever strange dream has happened in the interim, stepping out of bed to know that it's nothing, that the most pressing concern is breakfast.

Breakfast.

Writing an imitation of a Tomaž Šalamun poem, then adding notes to the thing, the words, that might eventually become a poem, nominally titled "Riding the Metro in Beijing." Adding a couple of lines to a poem, maybe a poem, about cosmology. Talking to the daughter in Scotland who has just purchased a yellow jacket, that miraculously has appeared in the very same Zara where she and I once considered a different yellow jacket, but decided against it and have regretted it ever since. Considering this fine shopping miracle.

Walking very fast for almost two miles, then doing chest presses and pull downs and rows. Listening to Jonsi and Jack White and Brandon Flowers and Ben Folds, and watching Chelsea and Man City play out the final 30 minutes of a match, while doing so.

Showering, then racing across town to watch a grandson play the last basketball game of the season. Chasing a granddaughter around, giving her fruit snacks and drawing her a frog and a dancing girl.

Coming home, taking a little nap.

Going to a party, chatting and laughing and celebrating and eating with friends.

Walking the dog under a cold, clear sky.

What am I doing at midnight?

--still digesting the Panang curry I ate for dinner (with a half a doughnut chaser)(don't judge), and  just having finished watching 13 Going on 30 and am therefore reminded that ugh, movie industry, don't signify magic by glittery swirly dust! and maybe just stop making time traveling/timewarp movies? (and also Mark Ruffalo was SO CUTE in that part). 

And remembering that last night I watched the first 25 minutes of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days which might be the stupidest movie ever made. Although maybe it gets better after the 25 minutes? Somehow I don't think so.

Thinking of a blog post. 

Listening to the historian making paper-rustling noises while sitting at his desk. 

Looking for a cover image for my upcoming book (!!!)(anyone? a cover image for a book called flicker?). 

Lying next to the dog. 

Thinking about the day and a half worth of work stuff I need to do tomorrow, i.e., in one day. 

However, thinking also that I will make pancakes in the morning, so: some things are more important than others, yo.

Today.

We went to the farmer's market and then visited the historian's son, where the two littlest girls showed us what summer is all about:

Saturday.

beginning with a super moon coming in and out of the clouds

soccer on a rather chilly morning,

a birthday party

with a bounce house!

a previous outing to pick out a birthday present (a hex bug)

festive!

Saturday WIN.

1. Wake up when I wake up (at 8:18 a.m., and technically Bruiser woke me up, but there was sunshine in my window).

2. Oatmeal for breakfast, because I found where I "kept" the oatmeal (or where I lost it, whichever).

3. Conversation with grandson (he called me--"I got McQueen shoes. I want a Spiderman 'brella. It was three bucks! It's for the rain.").

3. Downloaded OS Lion to both my Macs. Score.

4. Read my novel.

5. Returned library books: no late fees. Score.

6. Movie with my friend at Brewvies. Veggie burger/fries. Score.

7. Meet the historian downtown for dinner at Red Rock, the Oscar live action shorts at the Tower.

read for awhile, late night dogwalk action/stormwatch. Life is plain old good.

Saturday stats.

Consumed: toast with almond butter. pineapple and pink oranges with a little mint sugar. spritz cookies, salted pecans, sugar cookies, diet Dr. Pepper. french fries. root beer. papaya salad. panang curry.

Mood: desultory.

Viewed: 30 min. of episode one, season one, Homeland. Tintin.


Listened to: Amy Winehouse. Sufjan Stevens. Julian Casablancas. Kanye/Jay-Z. Brandon Flowers. Keane. Modest Mouse.

Visited: my folks in Orem. MacDonalds (see french fries above).

In company with: my two youngest kids.

Housework: the dishes.

Read: The Movie Club (on Slate). More of An Uncertain Place (Vargas).


Waiting for me: Mistborn (at the public library).

Constitutional: (pending) walk with the dog.

Decisions still pending: what shall I make for dinner tomorrow? what shall my policy on late work be? how shall I begin the next poem? shall I hope for more snow?

Saturday night is for thinking about politics.

This afternoon, when I was fretting, the historian pointed me to this editorial in In These Times, which I think does a good job of explaining how politics works. An excerpt:

On Jan. 15, during a primary debate in South Carolina, CNN’s Wolf Blitzer asked the candidates, “If Dr. Martin Luther King were alive today, why should he endorse you?” Obama, the one-time community organizer, replied: “Well, I don’t think Dr. King would endorse any of us. I think what he would call on the American people to do is to hold us accountable. … I believe change does not happen from the top down; it happens from the bottom up.”

The senator from Illinois has an understanding of how politics works that escapes his slavish supporters and jaded critics. In that, he is like Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who once told an adviser after listening to a well-reasoned proposal: “Well, you’ve convinced me. Now go out and find me a constituency to make me do it.”

Our job is not to convince Obama to govern progressively, but to build the constituency that will make him do so.

Also, Saturday nights are for going to the movies. We took the TRAX downtown, got off at the station between 8th and 9th South and walked up a couple of blocks . . .





. . . to Brewvies, where we saw Ghost Town, a funny and also sweet film that we both enjoyed.

After that, we walked back to the station and took the train home.