Foxes on Garden Street pt. 1
Fairy tales tend to come equipped with princesses and white, dazzling horses capable of outrunning a dragon. Legends, however, are less reliant on royalty and showmanship; legends are all about the storyteller and the hero. My Grandmother Hazuki was the storyteller, and Olivia, my first love, was a princess. I like to think of them, legends and fairy tales, Grandmother Hazuki and Olivia, as interconnected; one story inspires the other, regardless of truth or falsity.
Hazuki had a cat that would tell me stories, too. Her name was Bito. She’d dance between my legs and paw at my feet while I picked apples from Hazuki’s apple trees, purring between phrases of fox spirits and Buddhist nuns who could make lotus flowers bloom from pebbles they held in their hands. Bito the Cat would tell me these things then chase after bumble bees, then bathe her face – act as if everything she said was as inarguable as a grocery list. I ignored her anyway. Cats are good talkers, even better talkers when they have stories to tell against the mysterious backdrop of the Washington landscape. With my family and my environment, it wasn’t hard to fall into illusions, even when just picking apples. Olivia, the first love and princess, managed to be equally enchanting. As enchanting as a cat.
Olivia and I hadn’t been dating long when I started to prod her, or rather drag her, into a fantastical mindset. “Tell me a fairytale you tell your little brother,” I requested. We had, actually, been dating long enough for beds to be places of conversation. I still stole every glance I could at the place below her collarbone.
“Finn, I don’t know. I told him all kinds of stories,” Olivia said.
“Your favorite, then.”
She laid herself sideways on the bed, resting her head in the palm of her right hand. “Okay,” she pursed her lips into a small smile. “My favorite is one we made up together when he just started first grade. He was getting bullied by a girl in his class. He liked her and she thought he was gross. We came up with a world about trees with spirits living in them, playful little things that get bodies at night. They eat berries and steal bird’s eggs.”
I laughed. “And the evil villain?”
“Whoever we want it to be. We have the setting and the characters; we throw in the bad guy of the day and torment him in the enchanted forest.”
“So just whoever pissed you off that die is haunted by tree spirits? That’s terrible! ”
“Oh whatever, Finn,” she said and shoved my shoulder playfully. “But I guess you could put it that way. It’s all playful in the end, though, really.”
I fantasized, while I kissed her, about putting my father in that world. Like a beta in a fishbowl, he’d be trapped and spinning and lose his memory out of the overall insanity of living inside a window. An enchanted forest in a fishbowl. My father was a little too hard to catch, though, harder than catching a fish. My Mom had caught him with a ring, but that’s a curse - not a blessing of marital bliss.
Today I purchased gifts for my mother and my soon to be mother-in-law to give them at the rehearsal dinner, as well as a cute present for the flower girl. It was so easy to get gifts for them, but I’m totally stumped on my bridesmaids. I feel like that should have been the easiest, since I know them so well, but nothing - even hours of Etsy browsing - is sparking me!
Heart-shaped crayons & salt water taffy wedding favors.
Used a heart-shaped muffin pan and melted chunks of crayons in the oven for six minutes. Cooled in five.
Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto: 4/5
In Japan, literature by female authors is, generally, considered “women’s literature,” not “literature.” There is a distinction between female and male accomplishments, nothing unfamiliar, an affect of the patriarchal society. Books which receive literary awards, recognition and international acclaim do not often reach the description of ‘literature’ if written by a woman, regardless of the characters, ability and style, or social commentary, unless a well-established man in the literary world vouches for its inclusion. Banana Yoshimoto is an excellent example of a “women’s literature” author who, in Kitchen and Moonlight Shadows, does not attempt to write about women’s issues but does so naturally, through honesty.
Crepe paper backdrop for the ceremony!
Saw something like this on Pinterest and gave it a try. It’s tied in the photo because it was windy. Used white & pink 8ft long strips, stuck on blue & white baker’s twine using double sided tape.
Nothing like flower shopping!
The rain stopped today.
Today, inspired by Pinterest, I crafted a cake! This is a practice version.
The colors are yellow and sage green, but from the picture it looks very white & teal (which looks pretty too in my opinion).
The one thing I really don’t like is the glitter. I thought I managed to blow off all the frail pieces, but there are bits of glitter on the top of the cake. Next time I’ll use edible glitter so this isn’t an issue.
The cake’s purpose is to be on the dessert buffet on my wedding day!
I need to do something meaningful but nothing comes from my fingertips
goals pertaining to professional development
Today David and I had a nifty little dialogue on our career/professional goals. We talk about this stuff all the time, but usually it’s just a simple statement or idea. A discussion was nice.
So now my thoughts are dwelling quite heavily on my goals. I really want to work for the next two years, and work hard. I think once my birth certificate returns to me, I’m going to completely revamp my approach to attaining a job beyond Events Assistant.
The following are my thoughts.
- After graduation, I think I want to go in a direction of a Master’s in English with an emphasis in Asian Languages & Literatures, or Asian cultural studies. I need to meet with my advisor soon to develop my second competence.
- Teaching is becoming more important to me by the day. I’m so excited.
- I think I need to explore art a little bit more.
- Writing a book suddenly seems possible. And fun.
- I can create my own work environment wherever I go - even in rural Arizona. There’s no reason i can’t develop a library of resources and research, of diaries, histories, iconic texts, poetry… I can be my own Kumora Memorial Library, and save up money to see the world.
- LIFE. IS. POSSIBLE.