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peppermint bark in the morning
Oct. 25th, 2001 09:52 amNothing like eating candy for breakfast to make you feel like a little kid. Especially wrapped up in a blanket your mother made, sitting on the couch watching Headline News. (I'm probably a weird kid) I miss Don Harrison this morning. He was the constantly updated news to me, just as Peter Jennings has always been the evening news. I should find some way to contact his family, and write them a letter letting them know how much I miss seeing him and how his voice still echoes with the everyday and the breaking news.
It is almost a year now since Patrick left, since those awful days last fall. A year, that seemed so long, is almost gone. And now? Things have changed so much. I spoke to Melynda last night a little bit about the conflicting feelings.
Something strange: I am glad the people terrorizing the country with anthrax don't think the way I do. Because the possibilities are horrible.
Yesterday I was overwhelmed with books from the shipment. Almost two cartloads of cookbooks alone, along with some chapter books, lots of folklore, and some photography. One book of interest that arrived is I Will Bear Witness, Victor Klemper's memoirs of the Nazi era. I recall that his memoir is considered rather controversial and suspect, as is most anything published by non-Jewish Germans about the time. Maybe I will read it.
There is something so warm about these hand crocheted blankets. I need to learn to do this, to preserve this tradition in my family. My father's mother taught my mother while she was pregnant with me. My mother is quite skilled now.
Should be studying, going to the pharmacy, all these things. Tomorrow I finally get a day off, after all my exams.
It is almost a year now since Patrick left, since those awful days last fall. A year, that seemed so long, is almost gone. And now? Things have changed so much. I spoke to Melynda last night a little bit about the conflicting feelings.
Something strange: I am glad the people terrorizing the country with anthrax don't think the way I do. Because the possibilities are horrible.
Yesterday I was overwhelmed with books from the shipment. Almost two cartloads of cookbooks alone, along with some chapter books, lots of folklore, and some photography. One book of interest that arrived is I Will Bear Witness, Victor Klemper's memoirs of the Nazi era. I recall that his memoir is considered rather controversial and suspect, as is most anything published by non-Jewish Germans about the time. Maybe I will read it.
There is something so warm about these hand crocheted blankets. I need to learn to do this, to preserve this tradition in my family. My father's mother taught my mother while she was pregnant with me. My mother is quite skilled now.
Should be studying, going to the pharmacy, all these things. Tomorrow I finally get a day off, after all my exams.