You know in your mind that you're plumb insecure and that killing a man is real immature

[sovay]

I have never before independently lived anywhere I could sit on the stoop of my building and read, which is what I was doing this afternoon with the summer-weight sunlight and Karen Burroughs Hannsberry's Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir (2003) when a_reasonable_man came by. According to the herbal app on his phone, the ground cover mixed with the violets and broken glass in our back yard is soapwort or bouncing bet, matching the provisional identification by pameladean. We walked around the neighborhood for my first time in depressingly literal weeks—either I have missed cherry blossom season or we have no cases within range, but there were flowering dogwoods and redbuds, something that looked like a may-tree by the Mystic shedding whitely into the water. I am stir-crazy with no stamina, but it was wonderful to be outside talking with a friend. My life has been feeling like the diminishing zap of an old cathode-ray TV. I did not expect as a side effect of thinking about Westerns that my brain would earworm me full-time with the Limeliters' "Gunslinger."

Comments

[selkie]

I think if one has a bed-bound childhood, one unlearns stir-craziness because authority is involved and hospital windows don't open; I only think I remember what it must have felt like, so I can't sympathize as much as I want to. But I am very glad you got a sunny walk with plants. *hugs*

[sovay]

But I am very glad you got a sunny walk with plants.

Thank you.

*hugs*