9.30.2002

I had a fantastic weekend. Friday night I cooked a spicy bologna and made delicious potato hash (even though I burned it a little, it turned out very well). In all strange predictability, Lili refused the potatoes (heaven forbid she eat non-french-fried potatoes) and gorged herself on the meat. Saturday I went to a post-wedding shower that was very much what I expected it to be. I brought fresh-boiled edamame that I picked up at market that morning. Lucy watched Lili while I was there.
Saturday afternoon we went to Oktoberfest at the Essen Haus, Madison's authentic German restaurant and drinking hall. I participated in the yodelling contest, and should have won, if it weren't for some jackass that shouted "Ricola!" at the end of his off-tune caterwaul. What a drunktard. But the beer was good, the music was consistent, and I spilled beer all over some kid's shoes. His dad was pissed, but failed to confront me about it.
That night, Lee had a fondue party to say goodbye to her friend Ken. He's off to Zurich to study little things, like molecules. As one might expect, the food was outstanding (melted gruyere!), and Lili and I were exhausted. We made an early night of it and slept ten hours.
Then yesterday, Lili and Lee and I went to Cherokee Marsh, on the north edge of Madison. Lee and I wanted to look at birds, but there weren't many out. And as James has aptly put it, Lili is quite "kinetic", and didn't want to stop. She just wanted to "get there," despite the fact that we are always "there." Hopefully she'll figure that one out when she's older.
Then I brought Lili home, and Lee met Jamie for the first time. Seemed to go all right, though I was frantic. Last night I realized the full risk I'm taking, and I don't know yet if it's worth it. If it pays off, of course it is. But I remember the last time someone was involved in Lili's life and suddenly dropped out of the picture; it was terribly difficult on her. Then again, along with teaching her how we are always "there" (or "here", depending on how you want to think about it) I would like her to understand how important right now is. It's only happened to me on three different occasions, and two of them in the midst of total despair, but when I know nothing but this moment, this time, and this place, I am permanent and utterly destructable. The paradox is invigorating and beautiful.

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