Three Biographies of Miles Davis/Contentment.

Three different biographies. That’s what E’s parents got him for his birthday. Based on a conversation they had about a poster he had in his room. A poster he had twenty five years ago. E doesn’t read biography. He seldom listens to jazz. Another score for the nutcases!


Other than the fact that my out-laws are hare-brained lunatics, there’s nothing. I’ve just been complaining to Arwen that nothing happens in my life. My students do cute/funny things, or they learn something, and I’m happy about it. I really don’t want this to turn into a Teaching Blog, though.


So here’s a few snapshots of me doing the last couple of days, before the teaching:


Driving cars in the sunshine. Singing along to “High School Confidential”, making eye contact with the guy in the van next to me, and seeing him laugh.


Seeing the maple trees flame red on 12th Ave, against a mackerel sky.


Taking note of a cool new purse on Main Street, and thinking about how to make one.


Watching a young woman chatting on her phone on a bus, watching her laugh.


Walking Max, the giant mutt who belongs to Brad at Tremblay, back to the shop, and seeing construction guys smile at a happy, wag-tail dog.


I’m not blogging my life so much these days. But that’s because there’s nothing to say except it makes me happy to be me. I never thought it would be that easy.

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