Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Monday, April 24, 2006

Tooth

Dear Erika,

We've known each other such a long time. Long enough that I know you've lost your big toenail more than once. In fact, you lost it the very first week I met you, after you dropped a table on it. But I don't know much about your teeth. Did you ever have braces? How old were you when you lost your first tooth? Did you ever get a tooth knocked out? I suppose you use whitening toothpaste. And I've seen Crest Whitestrips in your bathroom.

Take good care of your toofies.

Pamela

Dear Elizabeth,

I know you're a keen observer--it's the Virgo in you--fetching out the tiniest details and cataloging them in your brain. What do you notice about teeth? Have you ever thought about them? The stained ones, the uneven ones, the ones that are too big or too small? What kind of teeth does the walking man in Chicago have? Do you think the people at the clown house brush their teeth? With what? Balloon toothbrushes?

Pamela

Dear Doug,

Tooth. It's a funny sounding word. A double "o" brings humor to an otherwise mundane meaning. Say it. "Tooth." Extend the middle and croon a little. At the end, your tongue meets the back of your teeth and gets a little lispy. Some words are like instruments. They carry a melody all their own. Funny, I just realized the act of saying "tooth" involves the use of them. Maybe that's on purpose. Who, exactly, planned it that way?

Pamela

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Burgerville on a sunny day





A warm, spring day in the PNW and Burgerville is hoppin'. The parking lot is jammed with contractors--their dry wall-caked boots and carhardts line up to feed. The cashiers call your name when your order is ready. Three men before me are all named Steve.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Bee carnage


inside the hive


bee carnage

Last weekend, I took the blue wooden top off the hive. Dead, mouldy bees were scattered about. Looking down into the hive, I could see honey dripping from the frames. It smelled sweet but tainted. It felt like walking into the scene of a mass murder. Bodies everywhere. I could imagine the bees in their final moments, crawling feebly to where they finally lay.