Mind Marginalia: on strength
You can listen to this past Sunday’s letter recording via the player embedded in this letter, or you can open the recording in your preferred podcast app.
This is the third episode of Mind Marginalia, containing the recording of the letter “on strength,” and a little bit more from my first date with my beloved; a photograph of the slippers I called ‘insouciant’ in the letter, which were gifted to me by a best friend and they are so soft and so like tie dye clouds that I honestly want everyone to see them and glory in them; as well as a poem I read this week that I have carried in my pocket, to hold onto.
From the letter…
After my not-yet-then husband and I had tea, and after he showed me the courts building downtown, we went and drank beer and ate fish tacos at a restaurant called Local. Yes, it was a monstrously long first date. When we were finished eating, my beloved walked me back to my car in the dark and I hoped that he wasn’t secretly planning to make me into a skin suit. As we walked, my beloved told me how he still had the laminated ‘car rules,’ that his parents had given to him when they’d gifted him his first car—a Mazada 3 that has now outlived him. I relaxed when he told me this. It seemed unlikely that someone who still had their parents’ laminated car rules in their car, ten years after receiving the rules, was plotting how to take a knife to my scalp.