a blog without jodi

With Jodi gone, I thought I'd lost all motivation to blog. No chiding; no inspiration; no collaboration. But Montreal has exhibited manic weather moodswings this week, and as a good Midwesterner, I know this gives me at least the outline for bare bones small talk. Apparently spring has arrived, and after the snowstorm of last sunday, 80 degrees feels obscenely unnatural. Or maybe it's the tamtam circles, and the hordes of people that have suddenly left their basements and have decided it's now safe to hang out on the streets.

On Sunday, with weather in the 70s, I sat on a rock off the beaten path on the mountain with Julia and Thibaut. From here, like a rooftop summer, we saw the city from a new angle, detached from its pulsing systems. Its sirens and dance circles and markets and languages hurled out became white noise--reminiscent of a tide turning in and out. When we returned to street level, we added our own bar to the soundtrack by singing traditional folk songs and old Dylan in the park--Julia on the guitar, me on the harmony, Thibaut trying to keep up with the lyrics.

I actually have nothing else to share. But at least this small talk probably got us through the grocery aisle line.