11 July 1981
A place back of this fort, now filled with flowers, hollowed in rock for a bunker, shelters a fawn.
16 September 1981
Winners can lose what winning was for.
4 March 1982
Between roars the lion purrs.
Sometimes I read the magazines while I wait for radiation and the appointments that follow. Yesterday, I read a recipe for instant s'mores. Place two shortbread cookies with chocolate on one side, together, chocolate side in, and place a marshmallow or two inbetween. Microwave.
I remember toasting marshmallows to just the right golden brown for a warm crust and soft smooshiness that melted the chocolate, and oozed everything all together. Somehow this doesn't seem quite the same. Once I toasted marshmallows over a candle flame with Katy. We wanted the s'mores experience and didn't have a handy campfire. It worked because we shared the flame. A microwaved s'more does not seem quite the same. I am hearing more now of women who choose to have a double mastectomy, and then, reconstructive surgery, rather than risk breast cancer. Perhaps, that works. I don't know, but I wonder about it. We don't know what causes cancer. The breast area seems especially vulnerable in this society, but to remove them unnecessarily, to cook without the fire. I don't know. I just wonder how we balance what is lost.
I have no answers. Perhaps breasts are superfluous after a certain age, and yet, they don't feel so to me. I feel them as a warm couch, a place for me to muse and catch crumbs as they fall.