Don’t go yet

Temperature: dipping, it’s about to rain.

Eating: not a single brigadeiro or beijinho for a while, ufa.

Drinking: not a drop until…Saturday, when it’s party time all over again.

Listening: as those beautiful young people sang Je vole, and I tried to cry in dignified silence only to realize other mothers were attempting the same, so we just let rip for a bit.

Watching: another disaster unfold in Ukraine. Putin and his monstrous minions are an affront to humanity.

Reading: is food for thought, balm for the soul, good training for your concentration and powers of immersion.

Writing: more words I will be choking on when it’s time to deliver them, but I feel deeply and I let it show, deal with it.

Thinking: Are we really going to outsource thinking and decision-making to a machine? When even those in the know don’t know all the inner workings of these machines? Think we will always be able to outsmart them? Really? No, I’m no Luddite. On a branch of my family tree sit partisans and freedom fighters to remind me that I don’t have to just sit there and take it. Neither do you. Nothing in how technology is evolving is natural and inevitable. Decisions and choices are being made; by us, for us.

Feeling: So much to celebrate, so many changes happening this summer, my heart will surely burst. Oye, don’t go yet, don’t go yet…

Learn to love the questions

Temperature: a sunny 15/59 degrees.

Eating: insalata caprese.

Drinking: I have my eye on a certain Tavel rosé with notes of warm winds and soft rains to come.

Listening: It’s almost time for Eurovision! All aboard the love train!! From a Norwegian sea shanty to those charming rockers from Down Under, there'll be everything and the kitchen sink on offer.

Watching: The Diplomat, and Firefly Lane. Oh, and if you’re in the mood for some bovarysme, you can’t go wrong with Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris.

Reading: or rather re-reading some Timothy Snyder.

Writing: invitation cards. Yes, cards, as in actual, factual, carefully selected cards with ink on them. Don’t you miss these things, these endangered tokens of connection and communication?

Thinking: on this Victoire 1945/VE Day, and now that yet another 24th has come and gone: Have you stopped killing Ukrainians yet? Yes, it’s a loaded question, but a pertinent one. Also, I noticed that someone’s been hitting the blog pretty hard lately. Did you find what you were looking for? If I can be of any assistance, don’t hesitate to holler.

Feeling: better now that Hot Man From the Cold is home. It was no half-cocked hello, I will tell you that.

Don't you forget about me

 ...because I sure as heck haven't forgotten about you. 🫶

Have a stirring Easter, if applicable, or a better than average weekend. I for one am putting down my pen for a few days to attempt conjuring spring. 🌱

May you live as long as you want

 ...and never want as long as you live. ☘️ Sláinte! 🍻

Gone thinkabout

Temperature: has been going up and down, freezing and thawing, as we ski and skate on the roads and pavements.

Eating: my heart out, Hubby is going to Paris and I am not!

Drinking: Would it help, do you think, un peu de champagne? (See above.)

Listening: to Mello for one, and OMG Finland, Käärijä aka the Shirtless Berserker? Brilliant.

Watching: holiday reels. Good times.

Reading: Richard Osman’s The Bullet That Missed, finally!, the third book in the Thursday Murder Club series. And if you’re going who-shot-who-in-the-what-now, look him up, these books are an absolute delight. [Ron having a massage; I laughed out loud. Richard, you nailed it.]

Writing: not a word about the climate crisis, food crisis, refugee crisis or any other crisis for that matter for a while. Oh, I heard that. That sigh of relief. But you are a batch of smart cookies, you’ve connected the dots and those crises because they most certainly connect and circle back and are different manifestations of the same problem.

Thinking: hard for the next few weeks. I have to do some research, study for a bit. One of my favorite things so yay, but I’ll have to focus on that plus I’ll be in charge of Casa Dita while at it; good thing the wee ones are now full-sized ones. [I reserve the right to pop by unannounced.]

Feeling: the need to get in touch while I’m away? I am all ears in comments (which don’t often make it online because you know what they usually entail, but I will parse through them) and then there’s this thing called email, lost on the young, I know, but still very useful when taking care of business, so gmail me at ms.ditaparker and we’ll talk. Now go love someone and shine on. Muah.