In tv shows, how are the men's hair neat and trimmed, the mustaches and beards groomed; and the women have sparkling skin and no hair even when they are stranded on an island with no supplies?
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
These glorious summer days
I wake up at 7. The sun is making it hot and I am excited about today. We have had 15 days of glorious vacation and we have 15 more to go and I am enjoying every minute of it. I make breakfast- Toasted bread with strawberry preserve, carrot juice and a mug of coffee. I leave some out for you. I go for a run. The music pounds in my ears and I wave at the grocer when I pass him by.
The roads wind. The trees are green and there seems to be a harmony in their cries. On the way back I pick up newspapers- all three of them on this small island. You like reading all the comic strips. I enter the house to have the clock chime 9 o'clock. I look at the kitchen table. You are still asleep. I put on some fresh coffee.
I go for a swim in the small lake a few yards away from the patio. The water is cool. I try touching the bottom of the lake- maybe I will tomorrow. I can hear your loud singing now. You can't sing if your life depended on it. I see you get the bicycle ready for a ride. As I near the house I smell the lunch. Eggplant and Parmesan, minestrone soup and strawberry shortcake for dessert.
After lunch we will sit around. I will pretend to paint and you pretend to read a book, the same page everyday. We kiss, we cuddle, we touch...In the evenings, we listen to smooth jazz and dance. I step on your toes and you tap me on the nose. We take out our dinner out to the patio. Watch the shimmering water, the shiny stars and the lazy moon. We sleep to the sound of crickets and the occasional owl.
We do the same thing every day, will do it for the next few days...these glorious summer days.
The roads wind. The trees are green and there seems to be a harmony in their cries. On the way back I pick up newspapers- all three of them on this small island. You like reading all the comic strips. I enter the house to have the clock chime 9 o'clock. I look at the kitchen table. You are still asleep. I put on some fresh coffee.
I go for a swim in the small lake a few yards away from the patio. The water is cool. I try touching the bottom of the lake- maybe I will tomorrow. I can hear your loud singing now. You can't sing if your life depended on it. I see you get the bicycle ready for a ride. As I near the house I smell the lunch. Eggplant and Parmesan, minestrone soup and strawberry shortcake for dessert.
After lunch we will sit around. I will pretend to paint and you pretend to read a book, the same page everyday. We kiss, we cuddle, we touch...In the evenings, we listen to smooth jazz and dance. I step on your toes and you tap me on the nose. We take out our dinner out to the patio. Watch the shimmering water, the shiny stars and the lazy moon. We sleep to the sound of crickets and the occasional owl.
We do the same thing every day, will do it for the next few days...these glorious summer days.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
The W's
# How can a person speak underwater when drowning without any air support whatsoever, in movies and tv shows?
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