Crowded House

Lights are off in the house, so that J can take a picture of the night sky. We're awaiting the pizza man, while Henry Rollins does spoken word over Bill Frisell, Don Byron and the rest of Hal Wilner's band. The cat is doing yoga poses on the carpet.

I'm up from an afternoon nap, after spending the earlier part of today riding through Hillman City, White Center and some nifty community just east of Delridge, off of the West Seattle Bridge. We're looking for houses, don't you know.

In one neighborhood, we called out to a group of folks planting trees. They were very entertaining & tried to persuade us to choose a house closer to this person or that person. They had just convinced the city to opt for a neighborhood orchard over the original plan for that land, a skinny row of new houses.

In another, we slipped from house to house, marveling at the high prices - then turned the corner to another street, to see the most amazing view of the Puget sound I've seen in my 16 years here. That made me laugh as we wove through the length of winding road, avoiding the many dead ends, driving back to cheaper digs.

We got into the light industrial neighborhood where I used to work & live. I'd love to move back into that neighborhood -- J and I looked for the corn sweetener tankcars that, nightly, used to slam their brakes loudly on either side of the old loft I lived in. After that, we drove home. It was time for a nap.

Not sure what we'll do tonight - I've been infrequent in writing here because I'm so out of energy, having delivered it straight in it's entirety to work for the last few months. Jason has offered a night out with wine or whatever sounds fun. I'm tired & almost meek feeling, but am sure to come up with something.

I'm looking up recipes for my dinner, I so don't want pizza. There's a garlic rice at a local japanese restaurant that I love & can't duplicate. If I can find a recipe, I'm set.