cygnoir.net

greatfruit

Once I overheard someone talking about eating great fruit, with the accent on “great”. I realized a few sentences in that he said “grapefruit” but it never tasted like grapes to me, so greatfruit it is.

Today’s surprise treat from a coworker is a greatfruit and prawn salad with peanuts, almonds, onions, dried baby shrimp, Vietnamese mint, and cassava chips on the side. It is sweet, tangy, spicy, and every bit as delicious as it sounds.Β  I am once again indebted to this very good cook who knows so many gluten-free dishes.

I am bouncing back from the stomach bug, and bouncing indeed as I catch up with work that crouches in wait around every corner. Boing, boing, boing. I love being busy.

The rest of it is a disorganized crowd. People dissatisfied this soon with Obama as President should ask themselves how long it has taken them to acclimate to a new job. I wonder if Prop 8 will be overturned. I read that the 38-Geary spends more time stopped than it does in transit. We are almost done watching the third season of “Battlestar Galactica” and I have no idea where it is going. I won a goldfish at a fair once and named him Fred. I still haven’t finished that short story because I don’t know what happens next. Anything could happen.

Today the light in the library is subdued silver.

I like the word “microfiche” too much.

Lunch has ended.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

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