hibernation; lactation; it remains to be seen

hibernation.
or rather, the end of. this summer has meant a resurgence in my tendency towards feeling writer-ly. mostly, i think, because of an abundance of time. party, i also think, because of moodiness and the idea of having something to say. i don’t care why, i’m enjoying it. i’ve been letting thoughts percolate and will shore up my ego enough to attempt something non-blog, non-haiku to bring to first fig writers’ collective. which is, of course, another writer-ly result of this summer i had little to do with creating, but am determined to make excellent use of. (i very proudly ended that thought with an of. deal with it.)

lactation.
i started paying attention to a law and order episode this afternoon when the issue of mastectomy was raised, over pizza, by two male detectives and their female boss. the men found it impossible to believe that a woman would hesitate to have the surgery if suggested by a doctor as treatment for cancer. the woman asked in response, to the order of, isn’t there any body part you would hesitate to cut off? she went on to explain the growing sense of womanhood that begins with the growing of breasts, and the continuance of the breasts as a source of femininity/sexuality throughout life. now, point of wind-up: being with a man who very much likes my breasts, and who would very much like me without them, there would be no hesitation. life over breasts, certainly. but if the situation were different? maybe i would have to think about it? why are these bags of milk producing flesh so damned important?

it remains to be seen.
everything. and i mean that not hysterically, not philosophically, but plain and simple. i believe that tomorrow will bring a trip to the italian market for produce and good cheese, lots of catch up garden maintenance, a quick stop for an allergy shot, a yoga class, a cat-sitting-movie-watching-laundry episode and a late dinner cooked together on our grill. but who knows?