A zero day. Got up; let the dog out; breakfasted; blogged; revised blog template (not sure even I like it; do you?); went back to bed; stayed in pajamas until a shower at 6, post meridiem.
Relished some reading, too (not the kind of relish that goes with that gross hot-dog-eating contest at Coney Island).
Finished a collection of novellas called "The Woman Lit By Fireflies" by Jim Harrison. The first piece features the eponymous Brown Dog, in what appears to be his debut literary appearance. Brown Dog is one of the most colorful characters in modern American literature, to this reader. I was introduced to Jim Harrison on the recommendation of Cort, a colleague who now calls me Brown Dog in passing at work. The collection's title piece is, well, luminous. A woman ditches her husband and spends a night alone in a cornfield. How's that for stalking one's demons?
Was I depressed today or simply indulging in some hard-earned rest? Probably more the latter. Or maybe not.
The temporarily empty nest gets refilled shortly, with youngest daughter returning (a few days early) after a stay on Block Island and with elder daughter in Berlin back in the, back in the, back in the US of A.
No great American novel (or story or poem or blog) written during this one week's worth of nest vacancy.
None yet.
A passing rumble of amateur fireworks.
My feathers are not ruffled by it, though I admit to a fluttering as the decibels increase.
Listened to the BBC on XM satellite radio a bit today. Good to hear that reporter Alan Johnston is freed from Gaza. Listened to some baseball on XM too. The Giants won today, aided by a grand slam by Fred Lewis, twice now in his rookie year (something never done in the team's San Francisco era). Alas, though, Mr. Lewis is no Willie Mays. He may not even be a Nate Schierholtz.
And now, the sweetest coda to the day and counterpoint to the sporadic neighborhood firecrackers: a lazy summer rain steadily sprinkling on the sidewalk (a pleasure exceeded only by the symphony of raindrops tapping on a car roof).
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9 comments:
It's always the little things.
Puss
I was wondering why you didn't return. You were luxuriating.
I mentioned yesterday I liked the new look.
;-)
Our Fourth was on a par with yours. Very quiet.
Indulgence, yes. My day was full of it.
The new look is nice: clean & simple.
GP,
Thanks for stopping by; more than a little appreciated. Caution: beware of 'bag ladies' on train.
P,
I just wish my lazy Fourth allowed laziness on the Fifth and Sixth. My wife is en route to CT today, after picking up daughter from Block Island. They'll wave.
M,
Indulgence but no burn, I hope. Intriguing you see the new look as clean & simple. I think the other was more minimalist, but I have minimal energy to change it again, for now.
I'll be looking out for the waves.
Never been to Block Island. :-(
. . . neither have I, Patti. Out of my income range.
Now I don't feel so bad. ;-)
Hopefully you weren't listening to fireworks at 1:25 AM on July 4 like we did...who was up to even watch them then? I do like pickle relish sometimes...
P.S. Ralph is my husband
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