BYE FOR NOW

Well, I'm nearly done. Another half hour, I'm hoping. And then no more coursework, possibly ever in my life, though, when I said that to my sister, she said it's hard to imagine that I won't ever take a class again. True enough. But I'm daydreaming now that those future classes will involve coming home with handmade art objects or sore muscles and not this tired brain I have now.

I'm off first thing in the morning on my glorious, long-awaited vacation. You won't hear from me for awhile, not that that's all that unusual.

A TINY WINDOW


Source: www.feasta.org

What follows is an excerpt of an email I sent to my poor longsuffering partner who is trying to have a fulfilling vacation in Berlin. I'm trying to write my final essay of my grad programme and am tying myself in knots, having read too much and thought too much to write a simple basic report on why local food is or is not good for sustainability. Here's the excerpt:

I'm reading an article now about how most of the rural development
farm-level entrepreneurial advocacy of local food (which is generally me in
a way) fails to address issues of social justice and the distribution of the
profits made on "premium" value-added products associated with local food
markets. Very Marxist and all and I think a useful argument for me to think
about.

Questions for the conclusion may be something like looking at a balance of
economic, environmental and social benefits of local food, and the potential
gaps in who they fall to. I.e. who eats the food and who gets the profits.
While there may be inherent sustainability benefits on the food miles and
less infrastructure front, it is also important to look at the
sustainability as an economic development and social justice issue--is it
just creating a haves and have nots among farmers? Is it creating a diverse
agri-food landscape that challenges the industrial high production model,
and the oft-linked consolidated retailer price and quality control system,
or is it in many cases creating a dual system of cheap, mass-produced,
environmentally destructive food for some people, with expensive, "quality,"
artisanal and environmentally friendly foods and markets for others? In
other words, are these alternative food supply chains actually a challenge
to the prevailing system, or are they niche markets which, as they grow, if
they do, will become part of the existing system of downward price pressure,
more generic conceptions of quality and environmental standards (this can be
seen in copy-cat labels of natural, fresh, nature-friendly, etc.), and a
mass-produced "locality" identity fetishism that loses traceability as it
expands and may or may not actually mean all of the farm family friendly and
positive environmental things it implies to buyers?

So, structure. Local is good for these reasons (and these people have said
so). It has often been assumed or asserted to have these additional
desirable qualities or effects (social bonding, trust, re-locating of rural
and regional identities, value capture for farmers, etc.). Several of these
have been questioned based on views of economic motivation, uneven
distribution of rents, defensive localism, etc. Conclusion: the basic
reasons that local is good generally stand. The more recent analyses of how
the supply chains work and who benefits are idealistic, peasantising and
don't stand up to long-term projections or meaningful market saturation
scenarios.

Now, this is a hard conclusion to come to, because everyone in my department
is on the side of Kathe Kollwitz pretty peasants in fields versions of
things (I know she had horrible images, but didn't she also have these?),
with the picture of family farmers reclaiming their rightful share of retail
value. But I really am starting to think about the equity issues
here--because the current state of research is all about case studies of
successful eco-entrepreneurs and alternative networks and cooperative
marketing groups, and about how this diversifies the agri-food system in
general. I agree, but I also think it's very much a them that have, gain
scenario. If you research farmers in Cornwall who are invovled in quality
food schemes, a very high percentage, which i could look up, moved to the
rural area in order to start a farm business, with specialty foods,
artisanal methods and idyllic lifestyle in mind. Most of the ones who are
making it are those who see outside the farm life box. They think like
consumers. Is that a problem? Not really. They have a market. But is
building a rural development scheme on the experiences of yuppie farmers
with vision a viable plan? Especially when the market for expensive
targeted premium foods is limited? Not so sure.

Oh boy. didn't mean to do all that. And it's a very recent stage of
thinking on this. I already have questions for myself. And I know that
there is still plenty of room for market growth, particularly if there is a bigger
steady, more widespread demand (like that of public procurement, for
example) and that more environmetnally and socially sound systems are better
and so some are better than none.

End of Excerpt. So that's where my brain is, and why I never write. And today and tomorrow I have to finish this essay so I can go see my dear supportive Jason (who actually answered this in a meaningful way from a hostel lobby in Berlin).

Wish me luck.

A Bug's Life

Today I turned in my dissertation research proposal. I worked so hard on it and I'm kind of proud of it, even though it's just the proposal and it was geared to the professor who assigned it and so doesn't reflect much-needed logistical information i'll have to hammer out with my supervisor.

I spent the day in a suit (a not so fancy, velvety brown one) at a conference on sustainable public sector food procurement (school, hospital and prison meals) with representatives of lots of important organisations. I networked where I could, but that's surprisingly hard to do when they all have lots of information useful to me and I don't have much to offer them--they realize I'm a student and move on to someone who can do something for them! Their loss, I reckon. To be fair, most were not like that. But when the abrupt turn-away happens, it can really throw you! Mostly I learned lots by keeping quiet and listening.

Two essays and an exam to go!

Then I'm off to meet my darling husband (who will have spent the weekend in Berlin) and spend a glorious week of no required anything in Prague, Vienna and Budapest. Going to school in Europe was a mighty fine idea. I haven't had much time to research sight-seeing, but we are so going to see this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundertwasserhaus

And soon after that, my mom, dad and sister are coming to visit! Unfortunately, the rest of the family can't make it. But I'm really looking forward to showing the small version of my family around Cardiff, South Wales and London. I love the idea of being able to show them where we've spent this whole important year that almost no one from home (except Corey) will ever see.

OOPS!

Photos on this blog are temporarily disabled. I store them on a friend's server, which is having a problem this week. They'll all reappear in about a week, when he gets back from a long trip.

DISHEVELED. WRITERLY. STILL NOT DONE.

Well, I've done it. I've become that scruffy grad student writer type that I wanted to be, then swooned over, then wanted to be again. For several days last week, I shuffled around the house with my coffee cup (usually with cold coffee because I'd absentmindedly left it in the other room at some point and forgotten to drink it but needed the caffeine and couldn't be bothered to spend the time making more), trying to get work done. I never washed the cup, just filled it when it ran dry, and I wore the same clothes for days in a row--even went in to school in them.

I stared at the screen, typed furiously in bursts, developed tics for when I couldn't think, and developed 'writing habits.' The best of these involves working in every chair in the house (plus my bed) during the course of one heavy writing day. What happens is I hit a block, can't think clearly, don't know which problem to tackle next. So what do I do? I move to a new space--a new chair, the desk instead of the table, my bed instead of the arm chair by the window--and then I work until it happens again. It works pretty well; I recommend it.

Less productive habits include eating too much toast (and not enough else), watching horrible home buying and/or cooking shows as a study break, and making a really obsessive round of all the blogs I've ever heard of about every half hour. If your hit counts have gone up, don't get too excited--it might just be that I've got essays due!

So far, these mechanisms have gotten me through all of last semester and 2 presentations and 3 essays of this semester. I've got two more essays due this week, an exam and one final essay due next week. I should post a picture at the end of May--or even a series to document my deterioration--I'm sure I'll have some serious Einstein hair, coffee-stained clothes and panda bear eyes by the end of this. I guess we'll need to have some video to capture the jittery insanity of it all, as well.

Writing is still hard and I'm not sure any of it is decent. For this last essay, I was extremely pleased with the new structure that came to me miraculously in a 4:00 am vision the night before it was due, but less than impressed with the actual text I managed to write to fill in the glorious shell. If only I had had a couple more hours, you'd be seeing me near the words Nobel and groundbreaking in the New York Times before long. Alas, I had to turn in some sloppiness. My beloved endearing proclaimed his certainty that the ideas will shine through. I'm not so sure. I think I've learned the lesson that looking and acting like an insane genius does not turn you into one.

PS. Yes, I know the photo has nothing to do with anything. I just thought you needed something to look at. It's from St. Fagan's Museum of Welsh Life, taken last summer, before I lost my mind.

SALSA

I wrote the first part of this post last September. Most of it is still true. Updates below.

Remember I said that I'd found a Mexican place that looked like it wouldn't charge ten pounds for a burrito? Well, I've yet to see it open. I managed to find some tiny cans of vegetarian refried beans and a container of salsa without corn ingredients of any kind, some tortillas and even "soured cream." But the beans were terrible (and expensive) and the salsa was somehow gelled with guar gum. Yum. So I decided to make some salsa. Without any cookbooks or ready access to the internet, I bought what I believed to be the appropriate ingredients and then thought about it a little. I then gave in and managed to look up some recipes on the internet, but since they all seemed to be about mango and cucumber and corn, or involved oven roasting (we still don't have use of our oven--but the parts should be here any day now), I gleaned the basics and set about doing it my way. I must admit it turned out pretty well. For those of you who care, here's what I did:

Roast a red pepper lightly on a fork over gas flame. Chop and set aside after it cools. Take a bunch of small tomatoes and sort of flash-fry them whole in a tiny bit of oil, stirring frequently so they get more than one edge cooked some. Take them out to cool after a short while, as skins start to split a little. Then throw in some chunks of onion and a sliced chili or two and stir-fry quickly until charred edges and softened, adding garlic at the very end as the pan cools. Chop up the tomatoes, drain, chop the onions/chilis and mix it all together in a bowl. Add the red pepper and some raw chopped garlic. Season with salt, some cumin, a bit of black pepper, some chopped cilantro and a few squeezes of lime. Yum, yum.

And I've got some black beans soaking, as I can't find them canned here. Tomorrow's going to be a Mexican extravaganza at our house.

UPDATE:

Have since seen mexican place open, and found another. But both have sweet overly thick salsa-like stuff, thereby making it not very mexican. So I still make salsa at home, weekly. Now I make it without cooking tomatoes or onions, without red peppers, and only roast the chili peppers over the gas stove flame. Delicious, and a staple of our diets 'round here. We've also managed to find canned refried beans, which don't compare to stewed black beans, but who has the time, really?

I'm also learning to make indian food, as the ingredients are easily bought in any corner store here, and I have an indian friend who let me in on some secrets.

Not news for those of us with corn allergies

Corey Jo recently recommended that I read some Michael Pollan for fun once I'm done with all this essay writing business (still four to go!) Apparently he's going to be in Portland and Seattle. (Info at the bottom of the post, for those of you in Seattle)

Anyway, here's a quote from a news article about his new book, The Omnivore's Dilemma. It's interesting in general, but also think about it from the point of view of poor little old me, who can't have corn in any form without getting a monster migraine for days. It's not comforting, but it's also no surprise if you've ever tried to avoid corn. It's everywhere in every form in every food. Just one more reason to avoid processed foods, candy and soft drinks.

C'mon people, 66 pounds of high fructose corn syrup, per person, per year!? Gross.

Our food pyramid teeters on petrochemicals and corn syrup
Oregonian, Sunday, April 30, 2006
JOHN FOYSTON

"When I started trying to follow the industrial food chain . . . I expected that my investigation would lead me to a wide variety of places," Pollan writes in "The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals." "(But) at the very end of these food chains, I invariably found myself in almost exactly the same place: a farm field in the American Corn Belt. The great edifice of variety and choice that is the American supermarket turns out to rest on a remarkably narrow biological foundation . . . dominated by a single species: Zea mays, the giant tropical grass most Americans know as corn."

The costs of a food chain founded upon cheap energy, chemicals and an oversupply of cheap corn go beyond the oil consumed. Our corn monoculture is a disaster for almost everyone. American farmers are going broke, our soil, water and health are being degraded, cattle live in vast compounds eating food they were never evolved to digest, and our citizenry grows ever fatter as we eat our way through the corn glut.

(Little is eaten as yellow kernels. Instead, we eat it as ingredients and sweeteners such as high-fructose corn syrup: each of us swills 66 pounds of HFCS a year.)

The glut is a boon for corporations such as Cargill and Archer Daniels Midland, which sell the chemicals, feed and seed, who buy and process the corn, slaughter the livestock and transport food. And it's a boon for the corn itself, Pollan says.

"Of all the species that have figured out how to thrive in a world dominated by Homo sapiens, surely no other has succeeded more spectacularly -- has colonized more acres and bodies -- than Zea mays, the grass that domesticated its domesticator."

IN SEATTLE:
May 12th
KUOW Weekday, 94.9 FM
9:00-10:00 AM interview with Steve Scher on KUOW's Weekday
AND
Omnivore's Dilemma Reading
www.thirdplacebooks.com
6:30 PM, free reading at
Third Place Books
17171 Bothell Way NE.
For more information call 206-366-3333.

Dear Prifysgol Caerdydd:

Two things. (or maybe three)

1. If you are going to decide what is a fair or reasonable amount of work for a 10 credit course, and give this a value in page numbers in a handbook, please advise your professors that that page number is meant to signify assignments of a certain size which should equate to a fair and reasonable amount of work. Please tell them that giving much larger topics than can be adequately covered in that page length, and then “letting” students go over it “some” without penalty because the topic is too big defeats the entire purpose. They may also be interested to know that, in addition to defeating the purpose, it is worse than just having longer page requirements because students must not only meet the specs of the assignment, but then spend hours creatively wordsmithing and whittling away important bits of argument to get it down to “nearly” assigned number of pages.

2. If you are going to create a class in which a group research project is the entire assignment, with findings to be presented orally to the class and submitted in a written report, please don’t then at the last minute tell them that the presentation is entirely ungraded because so many people mess it up and its really just for good practice in presenting out loud. Especially if some students are freaking adults who have spoken in public a time or two and who have put in the hours of preparation they know are the way to make it go smoothly.

3. Also, in that group project class, please please please find some way to judge individual students on their work and not give everyone in a group the same grade with no way to distinguish who did what or, (as has been the case in two out of three groups examined through participatory research by this author) who did nothing at all or did a thing so badly that it had to be redone last minute by other group members. While it is clear that you mean to give a “real world” experience of team project work and peer motivation, please note that students are not given hiring or firing choice in this scenario, nor is there the option, which may exist in some real world situations, to just give the lazy person a section and let them sink or swim and have their job depend on it. The class project scenario encourages what your fine institution has taught me to identify as “free rider” problems. Lesser students know that students who care about anything will not let the project fail, and that the professor cannot back down from the single-group-grade/motivate-your-peers platform, and so there is really nothing other group members can do except get it done while they stare into space (or in a hypothetical situation, at the clock, while the real students hack away at his writing, letting him squirm because they know he’s scheduled to be out drinking and that he’s useless in the room, but that they are not about to set him free until it’s done and up to snuff.) On the other hand, it does allow dedicated, hardworking students to realize how much better they are than the rest of the world. And they know this holds some kind of value, somewhere. Or at least they can hope.

CAERDYDD COLFEN II

CARDIFF TREE / CAERDYDD COLFEN

In Case You Forgot, I Live in the UK

I got an email today from a friend here. It included the following:

"Today is pretty rubbish for work for me too. The old grey cells straining a bit...am planning to go to footie tonight but may bottle it as am feeling cream crackered."

She's great and I'd love her even if she didn't say such excellent british things. I think "cream crackered" is the new "plumb tuckered" in my vocabulary.

For you, Sioned (who's Welsh in case y'all can't tell), who requested more Seattle stuff on the blog, here's the Seattle translation:

"Yeah, today sucks for me,too. My brain's totally fried ... was gonna go practice with my band (or paint or work on my screenplay or some other arty endeavor), but'll probably scrap it 'cuz A of all) I'm beat, and second, I don't feel like it. "

It would probably, most often, have more cursing in Seattle, but this here is a family blog.

FLOWERS, FILM AND FOOD PHILOSOPHY

When it rains it pours around here, and I'm mirroring that weather pattern with my blogging. None for two weeks and then three in one day! Pace yourself if you like, I must write when my brain's working that way.

I linked to my friend Zeynep's blog before when she posted about our first political movie night. This time, it's because she's bothered to take pictures of Cardiff flowers this week. See them here:
http://butterfly-x.blogspot.com
Also, if you go down a post or two, there are pictures of our class celebrating our regeneration presentations. There's a shot of me with my new Northern Irish friend. He's a riot and he's off to Zanzibar working on some education project with his NGO this week. I'm hoping I'll someday get to work with him on something in Belize, another of their focus areas.

Even further down in her blog, Zeynep talks about our film night when we watched The Interpreter. (Yes, it was a drama, not particularly educational film night, but we were in the end of a hard semester and wanted some entertainment.) I happen to disagree about the performances of Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman, but wanted to mention that Zeynep made us a turkish dinner of "ripped stomach" and shepard's salad. I hadn't eaten beef in years, except for a taste here and there, having lost the taste for it after mostly going over to white meat (with a bacon exception) for so long. But when she pulled out the minced beef (hamburger meat to us Americans), I decided to just shut my mouth and eat it. "ripped stomach" is basically stuffed eggplant with yogurt sauce and I might just have to make it for you some time. It was truly amazing food.

Note about food:
I've never been too dogmatic about my eating habits, and mostly stay with birds and fish because I prefer them, but having reminded myself recently of the amount of land resources, water and energy that goes into most meat production compared to grain and vegetable based diets, I have a renewed commitment to eating in ways that are sustainable for the environment. What this boils down to is that I think I am now a "conscientious carnivore." I eat meat, but not frequently, and when I do, I buy locally raised, organically fed, free range animals whenever possible. And I try to buy fish that is certified from sustainable fisheries. Yep, it is more expensive, but I figure I make up for that by eating it so much less frequently. A pot of lentils, some veggie burritos and a stir fry and I've earned a plump juicy roast chicken from that cool guy at the farmer's market who talks so fast I can't understand him. Jason is cooking one now. Also Welsh lamb is a local specialty, generally sustainably farmed and good for the local rural economy, so it's practically my duty to eat some now and then. Mmmm. I bet welsh lamb would be good in ripped stomach. If you come visit me I'll give it a shot!

Oh yeah, Endgame

Forgot to tell you about our trip to see Endgame. It was as bleak and depressing as can be expected from a Beckett play. And, generally, I loved it. Peter Dinklage was a bit stilted in his delivery, which was terribly disappointing, but not enough to kill the overall vibe. The old crank, Hamm, was horrible and hateful but somehow sympathetic, telling stories to convince himself of the good he's done in his clearly nearly over life. He keeps his ancient parents in garbage cans and the actor playing Nell, his mum, was charming and elegant and wistful. Then she dies. The world is ending (has ended?) and we are all pathetic. Good stuff.

One suggestion: Never eat lunch at the Barbican Theatre cafe. It was unpleasant and not cheap and made Jason very sick the next day. But ethiopian dinner up near King's Cross was delicious.

So. Very. Tired.

I'm exhausted. All this week. Possibly anxiety induced. We have been keeping regular sleeping and waking hours for weeks and it has worked beautifully for accomplishing an impressive amount of reading and research and maintaining an even keel on emotions and moods and even making my headaches and health more manageable.

But as soon as I had deadlines, I couldn't sleep and also had to get up earlier due to some last-minute crammed in make-up lectures and pre-presentation rehearsal sessions, etc. So, this past week: tired and headachy and generally angsty. I brought it on myself in a way, by having coffee in the evening on Tuesday. But who knew it would keep me up til three and have days-long ripple effects? Well, any reasonable person, you might say. But that's not me.

At this point, I'm one presentation and an environmental law problem question (about pollution control laws and nuisance claims) into my coursework. This week, I'm to give a presentation on social partnership (wage and tax agreements) between unions, business, and government in Ireland during the "Celtic Tiger" economic boom of the 1990s through to the current situation. Interesting to research, but not groundbreaking. Since the presentation was originally scheduled for last Wednesday and I didn't get the memo that it had been moved, I'm pretty well prepared for it and took the opportunity to review my project with my professor, who didn't toss me out on my ear for being a loser, so it'll probably go okay.

This week, no official deadlines, but some self-created ones designed to smooth the way for next week, when I have two due, and the week after, when there are three. Then some studying for an environmental law exam and I'm home free.

Then it's on to the dissertation, which I'm excited about and terrified of. It's due by September 15th and is my sole academic responsibility over the summer. Yikes. I've meant to tell you all about it, and just haven't mustered the energy. I promise to do so soon, so check back.

Today, Jason and I went to the Farmer's Market and walked home the long way, through the park. It really is beautiful here right now. So many trees in bloom and several varieties of delicate sage green fuzzy leaved trees, alongside occasional alarmingly colorful arrangements of tulips and something highly sneeze-inducing. We didn't have the camera, so I can't show it to you. Sorry. Maybe I'll take some shots of the lilac and three tulips and hundreds of humongous dandelions in our back garden soon instead.

Judging from the hullaballoo outside our window each morning, I'd say there are some baby birds around. The cat wanders through and the birds spend half an hour shrieking and bobbing around to distract him. Must have babies around somewhere. I can't remember the specifics, but it calls to mind some vague memory of a cartoon character (maybe a bird?) who kind of runs back and forth frantically and wide-eyed, making a panicked racket about every little thing. Any guesses as to what my half-baked memory is trying to recall?

Sorry for the randomness, just wanted to put up some kind of update.

HIGHBROW STUDY BREAK

I'd love to write and fill y'all in on the thrills and chills of Corey Jo's visit, and the two days later short jaunt back to London to have dinner with Sara and Peter (who just got back from an incredible honeymoon in the Far East and India), but I'm afraid these past two weeks and the next few are that time when I have assignments due two per week and am finalizing my dissertation plans. That means I'm plumb tuckered (as my elementary school friend Sherry used to say, much to my mom's amusement). More accurately, it means that I feel like I shouldn't take the time out of all my reading and writing and thinking hard to update everyone. But it makes me sad, because I want to tell stories and show pictures and get comments.

Alas, I really can't spend the time on blogging. Maybe I'll try to give quick tidbits here and there in the next week or two.

For now, the news is that the train company has been having a super-duper sale this month and tickets to London are CHEAP! So, in addition to bargain trips with Corey and again to see Sara and Peter, we're going back tomorrow, for the afternoon/evening. Why are we doing that when I have 6 essays and two presentations to do? Well, because Peter Dinklage (of The Station Agent fame) is a wonderful actor and Samuel Beckett is one of my favorite playwrights and Endgame is playing in London for the Beckett Centenary Festival. (The same production was in Dublin, but we missed that run, and we would have had to fly to get there anyway, or spend like 2 days on trains and ferries.)

Endgame!! with Peter Dinklage!! Yep. It's gonna be great. Sorry you can't be there, Internet.

Then we're gonna have cheap Ethiopian food and ride the train home again.

Tell me Beckett doesn't have the best creases of any man, ever.

JUST BECAUSE THE SKY TURNED FROM GRAY INTO BLUE



Remember from art history or cultural history or something or other way back when, when they taught you about memento mori? My memory is that they are basically still life paintings with lots of death imagery and symbols of death built in, meant to remind you of your mortality.

Well, this is my memento viva--reminder of life--for this fine Good Friday. Hot cross buns from the alley bakery, flowers stolen over back garden walls on my way home and a couple of mementos from recent visits with beloved friends.

P.S. Hot cross buns are a Good Friday tradition here in my temporary homeland. Interesting history, as have many things, I suppose. Unclear what is historical and what legendary, but here goes: Originally a pagan pastry, meant to symbolize four moon phases, the Church coopted them into its religious tradition when converting the good people over to their way of thinking. I also read that Elizabeth I tried to outlaw them [why?!?] but gave in and let people eat them, but only on Easter and some other special occasions. Whatever. I don't pretend to understand the number of strange little historical tidbits I'm picking up.

FINALLY HERE



Corey Jo is arriving tonight! I'm so excited I can barely stand it. She claims she's happy to hang out and drink whisky and do lots of nothing, but I also hope we can come up with something cool to show her. We're in Cardiff through Wednesday, then a couple of days in London. We'll probably go look at a castle or two, or visit Tintern Abbey or Bath. But yeah, I don't really care what we do, I'm just so glad to see her.

I just hope it's not an April Fool's Joke.

FILM SOCIETY PUBLICITY

We finally had a full-on well-attended film night. I won't describe it because my friend Zeynep made a mini-slide show about it on her blog. You can see it here:

http://butterfly-x.blogspot.com/2006/03/political-movie-society-presents.html

She's also got pictures of Cardiff and things there, so take a look around. Some of it's in Turkish.

We owe Mr. Dietz a debt of gratitude for reminding me about Battle of Algiers.

IN A BIG CATHEDRAL BY THE SEA

Five years ago today, we decided to be together.
One year ago today, we got married. We met a handful of friends at the Panama Hotel (a cafe, not a hotel) in Seattle, where Some Guy Named Paul asked us the important questions and signed a document. He was wearing, among other things, an i-shuffle with a Mr. Yuck sticker on it. We drank tea, signed our names, and it was done. Too quick for the taste of some of our guests, I think. I had warned them all ahead of time there'd be nothing to see. But they came anyway, and brought flowers, and I'm so happy they did.

Then we hopped in the back of John Galt's ambulance and got whisked off to the Six Arms for some drinks. I think he took the long way to give us some time alone in the back. He even piped in some music for us. Then when we walked into the pub, all the strangers clapped for us. I guess because the ambulance lights had been flashing and so everyone was watching us climb out, flowers and all. Our favorite couch in the corner was empty, so we had ourselves a cozy little party.

We said it didn't mean anything more than we already had. We said we didn't want anything to change in our relationship. We said we weren't going to make a big deal of it. All these things were true. But we did get a little giddy. And we did go out and get rings the next day, after wandering happily around the Asian Art Museum and enjoying the sunny spring morning in the park.

P.S. Goofy drawn-in glasses to protect the identity of the Mysterious Jason. All photos taken by our friend Sonya Walker.

THE BACK FORTY IN MY MIND

In the backyard of my dreams, this is who greets me. She's very friendly and chews happily and gives me milk to make cheese. She also likes to be petted and follows me around like a puppy. She is named Fawn Eyes, after the pet cow on the farm I worked on when I was 13. The backyard has a big garden full of vegetables, and orchard with apples and pears, and also this field:

This is the entrance into my imaginary backyard. We only open the huge part for big carts and horses, or for giants.

You can come visit if you want.

p.s. the prototype for my backyard is Cowbridge, in case you are a stickler for details and accuracy.