By Lynn Emanuel
I love its smallness: as though our whole town
were a picture postcard and our feelings
were on vacation: ourselves in mini-
ature, shopping at tiny sales, buying
the newspapers--small and pale and square
as sugar cubes--at the fragile, little curb.
The way the streetlight is really a table
lamp where now we sit and where real
night, (which is very tall and black and
at our backs), where for a moment
the night is forced to bend down and look
through these tiny windows, forced to come
closer and put its hand on our shoulder
and stoop over the book to read the fine print.
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I had both kids home on Friday, since Adam is finished with finals and Daniel doesn't finish his winter break until Monday. I offered to take them out to lunch, but Daniel wanted to sleep late and Adam didn't want to eat out so much as get some ginger peach hot sauce to eat with tofu, so we stopped at CVS for a prescription and the food store for some health food, bought a couple of bottles of the hot sauce from California Tortilla and came home for lunch.
It was chilly but too gorgeous out not to take a walk -- three deer sightings this afternoon -- though I also had to finish a review of DS9's "Shakaar". We had dinner with my parents and came home for the new Nikita (quite a dark episode and also a little kinky, heh), then I left on the Beauty and the Beast rerun because as much as I disliked Kristin Kreuk as Lana, that's how much I love Catherine. Then we watched Merlin making Arthur sound like a lovestruck girl.
Here are some photos from Oxon Hill Farm a few weeks ago, when it was quite chilly so some of the animals were hiding, though we got to see cows, horses, chickens, wild turkeys, historical farm equipment, and a goose who either wanted to eat our cameras or was auditioning to play Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors:
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