-- When I was a little girl I made mud pies, dangled strings down crayfish holes hoping the idiot crayfish would catch hold and allow themselves to be hauled into the light. Snarled and cried, ate ice cream and sang "How High the Moon." Popped the wings off crickets and floated stray Scrabble pieces in ditch water. All perfect and ordinary and perfect.

-- Featherings of ease and bliss.

-- I was preparing myself. Getting ready for the great day.

-- Icy day with salt on all the sidewalks.

-- Sketching attitudes and forming pretty speeches.

-- Pitching pennies at a line scraped in the dust.

-- Doing and redoing my lustrous abundant hair.

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