bakin'

Just back from the International No Diet Day bake sale for NOLOSE across from the farmers' market this morning. About to head out for Kentucky Derby party.

I realized as I was making cookies last night that they were the first I baked in something like TEN YEARS. That is to say, the last time I made cookies before yesterday, at least most of the following were true:

upsidedownblue hadn't yet kissed a boy;
pijeanf still lived on the other side of the continental divide (and maybe even in CA);
vjsmom worked at the Archives & wouldn't have a kid for another five years;
homovegetarian was still working on her B.A.;
infinitepresent and elmur_fudd hadn't been through the third grade;
sprig5 and I hadn't even met yet.

In other words, it'd been a long time since I'd made cookies.

What else was true over ten years ago?

bakin'

Just back from the International No Diet Day bake sale for NOLOSE across from the farmers' market this morning. About to head out for Kentucky Derby party.

I realized as I was making cookies last night that they were the first I baked in something like TEN YEARS. That is to say, the last time I made cookies before yesterday, at least most of the following were true:

upsidedownblue hadn't yet kissed a boy;
pijeanf still lived on the other side of the continental divide (and maybe even in CA);
vjsmom worked at the Archives & wouldn't have a kid for another five years;
homovegetarian was still working on her B.A.;
infinitepresent and elmur_fudd hadn't been through the third grade;
sprig5 and I hadn't even met yet.

In other words, it'd been a long time since I'd made cookies.

What else was true over ten years ago?

II

I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming.
Much earlier, the alarm broke us from each other,
you've been at your desk for hours. I know what I dreamed:
our friend the poet comes into my room
where I've been writing for days,
drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,
and I want to show her one poem
which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,
and wake. You've kissed my hair
to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone...
and I laugh and fall dreaming again
of the desire to show you to every one I love,
to move openly together
in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,
which carries the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.

---A. Rich
    from the Twenty One Love Poems

II

I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming.
Much earlier, the alarm broke us from each other,
you've been at your desk for hours. I know what I dreamed:
our friend the poet comes into my room
where I've been writing for days,
drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,
and I want to show her one poem
which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,
and wake. You've kissed my hair
to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone...
and I laugh and fall dreaming again
of the desire to show you to every one I love,
to move openly together
in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,
which carries the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.

---A. Rich
    from the Twenty One Love Poems