Doing major bar crawl oysters and french onion soup during day and dinner tonight at saraghina since Catrina is off to London and I have out of town friends visiting. London I see you next month🌟


By Catherine Barnett

Mostly I’d like to feel a little less, know a little more.
Knots are on the top of my list of what I want to know.
Who was it who taught me to burn the end of the cord
to keep it from fraying?
Not the man who called my life a debacle,
a word whose sound I love.
In a debacle things are unleashed.
Roots of words are like knots I think when I read the dictionary.
I read other books, sure. Recently I learned how trees communicate,
the way they send sugar through their roots to the trees that are ailing.
They don’t use words, but they can be said to love.
They might lean in one direction to leave a little extra light for another tree.
And I admire the way they grow right through fences, nothing
stops them, it’s called inosculation: to unite by openings, to connect
or join so as to become or make continuous, from osculare,
to provide with a mouth, from osculum, little mouth.
Sometimes when I’m alone I go outside with my big little mouth
and speak to the trees as if I were a birch among birches.

So much fun :)) he’s a bit cheesy 🧀 but I love love his enthusiasm! 🙌

Nathaniel told me I need to log in hundreds of hours of practice before I can master a foo fighters song. That time is gonna pass anyway might as well do something worthwhile dontcha think