Time it was,
    And what a time it was,
    It was...
    A time of innocence,
    A time of confidences.
    Long ago...it must be...
    I have a photograph.
    Preserve your memories;
    They're all that's left of you.

    Bookends, Simon and Garfunkel

Greetings Gentle Noders,

Surprisingly, our Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis reappeared in my mailbox recently after almost a three year hiatus. The only clue is a cryptic, “ July 2009. Found this, can’t remember where? Judy NYC USA”

Where we left off:

    Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis was launched on January 15th 2003 and retired on September 1, 2006.(See the daylog for an explanation.) It made its way around the world from Canada, across Asia, took a passage through Europe and began a quest from the eastern US. Unfortunately it never made its way beyond this point. As of the visit with toalight the total mileage was 27,831 miles.

Where we are now:

It is dog eared and care worn; chock full of wondrous notes and items from noders present and noders gone by. I would truly like to see it continue on its journey because, as you may note, there are many who signed up to receive it and have not gotten it yet. Some are still here while others have been gone for quite some time.

Where we would like to go:

Unfortunately my husband is very ill and we are dealing with cancer surgery in the near future. I simply don’t have time to oversee this project and I am looking for a noder or a group of noders who might be interested in continuing it. Please message me with your reasons you would like to move forward with it and a plan as to how you would provide for problems like those who signed up and are no longer here. What to do if a noder refuses to send it on or if they were particularly tardy with mailing it and so on.

Many thanks.


it's summer in alaska

and i'm at a gas station

staring thru clear haze fumes

at a dead dragonfly

with wings still life beautiful

and wet-looking

cartwheeling stiffly

in the wind


hot rainbow greased pavement.

rolling over gravel

it came to rest against my foot

syncopated by the full click


of the gashandle

this moment

is as mesmerising

as the violence

of a derailing train.

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