Don't get shot down in the dark alley where the air is smoke and we're so misunderstood
Perhaps inevitably, last night came with a severe emotional crash and today has involved just too much physical pain, but I had a good conversation this afternoon with
rushthatspeaks and got out of the house before evening to look at the cherry blossoms in the rain.

Dinner when I got home combined leftover chicken and leftover soup with kneydlakh. Tomorrow we'll make new soup out of the carcass and freeze it.
alexxkay has sent me copies of Lloyd Alexander's translations of Sartre's Nausea (1938/1949) and Intimacy (1939/1949). A cat is sleeping on my lap. I am looking forward to the reassuring normality of being bored out of my mind by matzah in a week.

Dinner when I got home combined leftover chicken and leftover soup with kneydlakh. Tomorrow we'll make new soup out of the carcass and freeze it.

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He did the first translations of Sartre into English. I don't know that it's widely known. It was highlighted a couple of years ago by this article on existentialism in Alexander's own works, which turned into a really good Readercon panel last summer. I'm looking forward to them; I've never read anything of Alexander's that wasn't his (deeply formative) children's fiction.
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