Winter Comes Early
November 1San Francisco Giants’ Pat Burrell (left to right) Brian Wilson, Aubrey Huff and Buster Posey celebrate after defeating the Texas Rangers to win Game 5 of the Major League Baseball championship and to clinch the World Series in Arlington, Texas.(REUTERS/Brian Snyder) # All the long suffering San Francisco Giant fans (the ones that hadn’t given up or died) finally saw them win the big one. My sister and I have been Giant fans since we were very young. We saw Bobby Bonds, Willie Mays, and Willie McCovey play at Candlestic park. We saw them struggle through the eighties when my cousin Jim Wohlford played for them and they were lousy (not Jim’s fault).
This is what he had to say about it:
Myanmar’s pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi (center) was released after serving seven years under house arrest. (REUTERS/Stringer)
I am changing my approach again. I cannot do everything. I will do what I can and in a timely way, prioritizing. Just like we handle nap: let the ones who sleep go to sleep, help the ones who will go to sleep with a little help, and then deal with the difficult ones.
Many interesting conversations today. I walked into a meeting as I arrived at work that went for an hour and then later talked with Barbara about winter camp, temperament and parenting. Then I had a wonderful conversation with Sarah about life and inspiration and the blending of that into work.
Dustin and I went to the Showbox at the Market to see Built to Spill.
We walked around Seattle downtown trying to stay worm waiting for the concert. We ate yakasobe noodles in a deserted courtyard of Pike’s Place as a somber security guard shuffled around sliding the grills down in front of the shop doors and exits and locking locks. “You guys can finish up, but this area is closed so you’ll have to let yourself out up there.” He pointed to the exit sign. A sad bored looking big foot, roughly carved, loitered in one corner, and a giant squid flew wriggling on wires overhead.
I drove to work late through a gathering storm, and took 2 1/2 hours coming home, driving on a sheet of ice most of the way.
Cormac McCarthy is in my dreams a sad old man with a teenage daughter. He is afraid of not living long enough to see her grow up.
“It will kill you graveyard dead”
People say things like this.
Mary, Rowan, Dustin and I piled in the car and slid out to pick up Jordan through the snow and slush. We stopped for beer and made it home. A pleasant afternoon and evening with our fine and intelligent children. They are so civilized and pleasant. More due to Mary than me. She has a way of expecting people to behave decently that makes it happen. I just take what comes.
The snow has blown and washed away in the predawn storm. Scattered traces remain. The streets are all wet and ice free for the first time since last Saturday (11/20). The rain clicked sideways at the window like sand or ice, but just water pushed by wind.
I finished and published the last segment of my first novel, River of Dreams, on my blog!
WikiLeaks and five major newspapers from Spain (El País), France (Le Monde), Germany (Der Spiegel), the United Kingdom (The Guardian), and the United States (The New York Times) started to simultaneously publish the first 220 of 251,287 leaked confidential—but not top secret—diplomatic cables from 274 US embassies around the world, dated from 28 December 1966 to 28 February 2010.