The Weepies: Living in Twilight

“So it goes, though no one knows you
like they used to do
Have a drink the sky is sinking
toward a deeper blue”
“So it goes, though no one knows you
like they used to do
Have a drink the sky is sinking
toward a deeper blue”
Liz has been feeling under the weather since Friday. A few days ago, before our return to Chicago, Liz took a Covid test and was negative.
Tonight though, with her symptoms increasing in strength… she took another test, and came up positive.
In a historically poor area, “leaving enough” required advance planning. “There was the ‘cheese of the dead,'” explains Zufferey. “Everyone had a wheel of cheese so that they had something to serve at their funeral.”
Back at the house, Sandy’s cozied up in the living room.
Anne was decorating a lot of these cookies, and eventually Liz joined in on the action. I… mostly ate the cookies?
Group photo, with a lot of lovely lights in the background.
A silly moment, which Liz was able to capture while I Was driving. It’s only going to make sense to me, and the folks I work with at Grubhub. But still, pretty funny thing to spot.
I ended up playing at a single table the whole night, and was joined by other coworkers: L to R it’s Luis, Lin, and Kiran.
Of note: all three of them did pretty well over the course of the night. But by far, Kiran was hitting Blackjacks more than the rest of us. I think he got at least 9 or 10, over the course of the evening.
It’s incredible to see the change, and to look back on photos of what things were like when Liz was experimenting incessantly.
A few days ago, several of us on the block were concerned at the appearance of some random pellets that appeared along the West side of the street. We didn’t know if it was food or possibly poison, and out of an abundance of caution decided to work collectively to sweep things up.
It’s definitely weird to think of myself as a morning person. The Felix from 21 years ago would argue against this kind of behavior, if he wasn’t so busy taking naps.
While I was outside doing some yard work, I ventured over… and took a look. It was odd, in that the pellets were only on the West side of the street (and not on the East side). It also seemed to start and stop between a set number of houses, and didn’t extend the entire, full block.
Each year, we knock on the door – and each year, Mark opens the door and has a quizzical look on his face. And then as we stand there for a beat or two, it registers why we’re there and you see his palm rush up to his forehead. It’s a great tradition, and something Liz and I both enjoy tremendously.
Interestingly, as much as I was into poetry, I never got that much into Bukowski’s poems – I gravitated more to his fiction. And also read a lot of John Fante, as a result.
by Yehuda Amichai On a roof in the Old City laundry hanging in the late afternoon sunlight: the white sheet of a woman who is my enemy, the towel of a man who is my enemy, to wipe off the sweat of his brow. In the sky of the Old City a kite. At the other end of the string,…