the_apple_of_my_eye crOwl and so i was on my way to the ski school, driving in my old beater pick-up with its plastic covering over the broken window flapping in the unseasonably warm morning breeze. i'm eating my breakfast apple and thinking, ok, if i'm to live in the moment, what does eating this apple contain for me beyond temporarily removing my hunger? then i start thinking...this apple has a history. where is it from? washington? new zealand? some orchard had to grow it. some grower had to worry about an early spring frost wiping out the buds. it hung on a branch. it got rained on. it swelled. someone picked it and it became one of thousands. whatever...it had a story and its end was in my mouth, my teeth, my belly, my nourishment. it kind of enlarged my world for that little stitch. made the drive take on a magnified sense of the picture is much bigger than grab an apple and hurry to work. so every moment can be that alive? 060130 ... nom right on. 060131 what's it to you? who go blather from