If you voted for this Proposition or support those who did or the sentiment they expressed, I have some questions, because, truly, I do not… understand. Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don’t want to deny you yours. They don’t want to take anything away from you. They want what you want—a chance to be a little less alone in the world.

KO on Prop 8.

1. Backburner that thing, dream, idea, plan you’ve had running around in your head since you were ten, twelve or twenty.

9. Make a criteria of what things need to be in place before you can begin.

22. Be devastated when there are no marching bands, accolades or public service announcements celebrating your progress and begging you to go on.

28. Eat another cookie.

30. Complain you don’t have enough time. Continue to say yes, when you meant to say no.

32. Refuse to make mistakes. Insist on doing things right the first time.

36. Read Blogs.

(more here)

I was out on a hike this weekend with my friend Josh and we'd been out for a few hours, merrily photographing the shaggy misty mossy Eagle Creek trail, when it started to rain. We stuck it out but ended up spending several hours soaked to the bone below our rain jackets (last time I'll forget the rain pants). At some point along the way, a thought occurred to me: I wonder what birds do when the rains come? How do their nests stay dry? Do they have holes in trees?

The thought of a snug and dry hole in a tree sounded perfect. I imagined myself as a bird and fluffed out my feathers, shifted my feet, felt the smooth wood against my body. I could actually feel all of this, and it startled me, this unfamiliar sensation of placing my consciousness in an entirely imaginary situation.

I'd used my imagination and it startled me. That's a pretty bad sign for creativity.

I spend a lot of time emailing, talking, problem solving, and organizing. I spend time cooking, driving, cleaning, and reading the news. I spend time shopping, drinking, and shooting the shit with friends. But I spend no time allowing my imagination free rein. I don't even remember the last time I picked up a charcoal stick or paintbrush or my mandolin. I might have written a poem in the last 5 years, but I don't know.

This is a problem, and it may have a lot to do with why I'm not really all that happy lately: I never let my mind out to play.

Hell, my body either. We met up with some Dartmouth people in Portland on Sunday and played round after round of screaming toes all over town. Just for kicks. And it was awesome.

I gotta get my imagination and my creativity back on track. End of story.

Just think of what it means to have a president who says: "I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president, too."

And who invokes Lincoln:

We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

I hope that we can work together and keep our eyes on the greater good.

It means so much to realize that the work I do every day may soon be with the current, with the wind at my back, instead of against it. I barely know how to imagine a government that will take seriously its responsibility to the people to help make our home a more perfect Union - that will fund and support everything from universal healthcare to civil liberties to my humble piece: sustainable, human, locally-focused food systems. So much of the work that must be done will take place on a local level, and will demand commitment and effort from all of us for the changes to happen.

I hope that we can keep these promises.

The dark spot on all of this was Prop 8's passing in California. To discriminate against someone because you don't like how they live their lives flies in the face of American ideals. Whatever happened to liberty and equality? But I trust that tolerance and equality are on the winning side of history. And Obama may not be the gay rights champion we'd like, but I know he'll carry the ball a little further down the field.

I hope that we can carry this momentum forward.

Why do I have such an absurd love for To The Dogs or Whoever?

I mean, really. I'm not complaining, 'cause this song makes me HAPPY, but sheesh. You'd have thought I would have gotten over it by now, but nope. Still into it.

Green tomato preserves (from The Gift of Southern Awesome Cooking)
Green tomato and apple chutney (ditto, and strong enough to peel your eyeballs)
Spicy fig orange jam (from Simply Recipes

This is in addition to the golden raspberry and peach preserves I've already put up. And the bourbon peaches, and the peach-rhubarb chutney, and then of course all that tomato sauce...

Next up: apple butter, applesauce, and pumpkin butter.

People, I am so excited.

- Ray LaMontagne's Sarah (igif)

- Pretty much everything that Daniel Martin Moore does.

- Obama's grassroots organizing skillz. (huffpo)

- Pentagram's redesign of The Atlantic. So classy!

- Green tomatoes for green tomato preserves and fried green tomatoes.

- Still-fresh happy memories of all the friends I saw back East.

- A full-but-not-crazy weekend already planned: grape picking, harvest partying, beer brewing, and maybe a little Christmas shopping in Portlandia.

- Slowly, methodically making it through about 20 pages nightly of DFW's Everything and More.

While I basked in the sun along Brooklyn's wide, summery streets and Manhattan's steel corridors, autumn happened.

I already miss everyone I just left.

- Packing for Philly and NYC and trying to go ultra light: 1 carry-on backpack. This is proving challenging, especially because many of my travel-size liquids come in 4 oz containers. I mean, the limit is 3 oz. Will they REALLY notice?

- My cousin made the NYT! Too bad they did not publish the photos of all of Amma's handiwork.

- Really excited for the new Jolie Holland album. Springtime Can Kill You really didn't do it for me, but this one harkens more toward a mood and sound I like. Also, she covers Todd Snider.

- Not really happy with my lifestyle right now. Still too busy, too little free time, too much guilt over how much is yet undone. Starting to get that terrible mental wall when I think about work. Starting to dread it. This is not what I want to happen. I've got to find a way to step back and let some of this weight on my shoulders fall away.

--

So I'm not a total John Vanderslice devotee but the set he did for OPB Music this week is worth your time.

I'm particularly fond of the first and fourth tracks. Is it just me, or is Numbered Lithograph straight the hell out of 2003?

John Vanderslice - Live and Acoustic on OPB Music

Twenty-one pages down, at least twenty to go.