. . . or so goes one of the cautionary rhymes in my new Cabinet story, "Nursery Rhymes." In it, an unfortunate little girl not unlike my own wee rambly distractable self-when-young comes across a book which is not, but might as well be, titled "How To Develop an Anxiety Disorder -- in Easy Rhymes!"
In other news, I just got back from Portland, Oregon, where I went to see some of the TBA (Time-Based Art) Festival. I didn't have as much luck with the festival as I'd hoped, but Portland is glorious, all lush and wet and garden-studded. I visited my old college, Reed, for the first time in decades, which was straaange:
and the nearby Rhododendron Garden:
and the Japanese Garden:
. . . and more gardens, and Forest Park, which is AMAZING, a giant FOREST more or less in midtown. And I saw random splendid Portlandish sights like this one:
But now I'm home in Austin and seem to have brought some rain and gray with me, which we needed desperately, so I feel very clever.