Berkeley 1964

“There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can’t take part; you can’t even passively take part, and you’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you’ve got to make it stop. And you’ve got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you’re free, the machine will be prevented from working at all….”

–Mario Savio, Sproul Hall UC Berkeley, 1964

friday five for the wednesdays

of course, the five things we can’t wait to do when we get back to the other OC.  in no particular order, and all at once is preferable. 

5.  hugs.  baby hugs, boy hugs, mompair hugs, group hugs, highfivedownlowhugs

4.  have an unbirthday party.  with balloons, of course and cupcakes with pink icing.

3.  frolic.  here, there, everywhere in the other oc.

2.  scrapbook and sing.

1.  coffee.  just to be in the same coffee time zone is beyond brillig.  drivethrus, drivebys, and sitdowns.

The Monday One

Lines from a certain three-year-old on Main Beach in Laguna:

“People in Laguna don;t like trains, do they mom?”

“Oh I’m sure they do like them.”

“No. No they don’t. They don’t let the trains near the beach here. That means they don’t like them. Actually they don’t like them at all.”

—

And right there, without even knowing, another line drawn [down the tracks] between the OC and the other OC.

the time has come

so we were enjoying our last norwegian picnic out in this  aamilne blustery kind of day and the wind suddenly stopped.  really, it just stopped.  and then the strangest thing happened.  it started blowing the other way.  and m. said–hey, the wind just changed.  and o. the echo said–the wind changed!  and i said–sthe wind has changed,  it is time to go home.

scraps

pardon the glare…i guess i should have taken them out of the sleeves before i clicked… but there’s only so much you can do one armed, one-handed.

the only reason for staying in norway

is for getting packages of paper and ribbon and cards that say “after we have taught her about scarves and loaned her our pink birds.”  really, what’s a girl to do?  come home, of course, with a satchel of postmarked stamps.

beautiful no. 3

and for our café

if only i could reach

reply to poem for paper art