Believe that further shore is reachable from here.

History says, Don't hope
On this side of the grave,
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up
And hope and history rhyme.

The Isthmus reviews American Players Theatre's production of The Cure at Troy: The play is gracefully suspended between ancient Greece and our modern era.

It's ragged-raw and elegant on a spare set and it saws on the bone the way only Greek tragedies can.

i imagine that yes is the only living thing.

Favorite breakfast: granola with strips of dried coconut and banana coins swimming in Sassy Cow milk, one mug of masala chai, one tall glass of pineapple juice, and a piece of fresh fruit. I always eat a big breakfast since I am impatient with lunch. In the middle of the day, there are too many other things on my mind and I rarely find (or make) time for more than a yogurt, hastily scarfed down and not enjoyed. Breakfasts, though, must be unrushed, and it's best enjoyed with This American Life and the Willy Street Co-Op Reader in a chair by the window.

I ran early errands this morning (being out of lovely just-detailed breakfast foods) and found empty streets and crowded church parking lots. The air is crisp and very September, and the sky is aggressively blue the way summer skies aren't.

Going to see Philoctetes at American Players Theatre in Spring Green today.

Most flawless day of the summer.

So far I've dislocated my jaw eating mango leather and sped on my bike back and forth from one side of the Isthmus to the other: Monona-Mendota-Monona-Mendota. High June is here, and it is simply exquisite.

Skeeter is less than thrilled, resentful of the wiry black kitten that roams the apartment freely, unused to the spongy air mattress. He grumbles and growls, but then the window beckons and he stretches out on the sill, unable to resist the cool air.

Summer, truly.

Spring lasted less than five minutes this year, squeezed between March mud and chill and these suddenly warm, sticky evenings. Tonight I walked home with a jug of ice-cold Sassy Cow milk sweating so fiercely it threatened to slip from my curled fingers. That's summer, alright.

Southwestern jaunt.

We're plotting an escape out west to White River National Forest, Grand Junction, the Arches, Zion National Park, Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef, Mesa Verde, the San Juan National Forest and Black Canyon of the (on the? I can't remember) Gunnison. We leave Saturday.



I've been hungry for mountains all summer.

Milwaukee.

Running possible wedding dates past his dad.










RENTED ice cream? Gee… I don’t know about this…

happy fourth!

We watched the fireworks from a tiny park situated at the end of Few Street. At first, we had the park to ourselves. Then an Indian family arrived, all carrying ears of sweet corn, and that was all very well. And THEN 20 drunks arrived and started shooting off fireworks of their own, and when a neighbor complained, shouted, "AMERICANS DON'T APOLOGIZE!"



Watching the fireworks from across the lake reminded me irresistibly of that one scene in The Little Mermaid...

gk, concerts on the square.

We went to see Garrison Keillor at Ravinia in Highland Park on Saturday night, and spent Sunday washing and waxing cars, watching 30-year-old Wimbledon tournaments and celebrating Adam's upcoming 20th birthday.




One man leaned out to snap a photograph right in GK's face and GK grabbed his hand and continued singing, "OH, I need your love!"







And two random pictures from about a month ago...







Here are some pictures I shot at Concerts on the Square last Wednesday... the day was the most beautiful of the summer by far.




Bernd, the unwilling subject ;-)

27, 28, 29.

Today.

Me, making Berry Almond Crumble.


Oh, who knows which way it will go. No word from Google. Other people who interviewed the same day, though for different positions, have already heard back if Google wasn't interested...

Father's Day at Aztalan State Park.

It looked like a sea turtle!




Apparently, Aztalan has a problem with rogue mowers bringing their personal lawn care equipment on to state property and going nutty...




Bernd kept constructing these little headpieces for me and repurposing my hair clip to affix them to my head...


Then my dad tried to romantically tuck a daisy into my mom's hair. He couldn't get it to stay, so this is him just sitting it on top of her head...






Cool clouds all day.