100.8 degrees fahrenheit

I have a cold, my second one this month.

Last week there was a tornado about 20 miles away from my house.

Southern California must be out of balance.

I had a fever yesterday. I was at war. I fought the enemy with Che Guevara on my side. But in the middle of battle, my husband’s caldo de pollo woke me up. A woman must know when to choose food over war.


Why did Che Guevara choose to fight on my side? I don’t even have a Che t-shirt! Why not George Washington, Morelos, Napoleon or the 54th Massachusetts Infantry?

And who was my enemy?

This morning I didn’t go to work. I slept all morning. Chavela visited my dream. She was about 9 months old. She grabbed my husband with her arms and legs as if she were a kohala bear. Then she grabbed me. I woke up.

Southern California is out of balance.

Somewhere in my dream there's a girl on a mary-go-around and a woman at war.

I wish, I wish my baby was born
And sittin' on its papa's knee
And me, poor girl
And me, poor girl, were dead and gone
And the green grass growin' o'er my feet
I ain't ahead, nor never will be
Till the sweet apple grows
On a sour apple tree

But still I hope the time will come
When you and I shall be as one

I wish I wish my love had died
And sent his soul to wander free
Then we might need a ravens fight
Let our poor bodies rest in peace

The owl, the owl
Is a lonely bird
It chills my heart
With dread and terror
That someone's blood
There on his wing
That someone's blood
There on its feather