On the physical plane, I am just not doing very well. Among other things, I seem to have had an asthma attack last night. It was unpleasant. I would prefer not to repeat the experience. I meant to go out this afternoon into the brilliantly frigid sunlight and photograph whatever had not been mid-May frost-killed, but instead I finished my work and then I lay motionless on the couch. I appreciate the friend who is not on DW who sent me news of both masked hamsters and antibody llamas. My mother sent a few seconds of video in which she captured the bald eagle circling and calling over my parents' house. I am going to return to the couch and read Jean Webster's Daddy-Long-Legs (1912), which feels like it should be a re-read, except I don't recognize any of it.
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Active Entries
- 1: Just took time to say, I'll drop you a line
- 2: And four hours north of Portland, the radio flips on
- 3: Re-reading our texts from the strawberry days
- 4: You are just the fingertips of something
- 5: I yield to her cry, losing my own names within me
- 6: Shaking off the echoes of yesterday
- 7: Everything I love is on the table, everything I love is out to sea
- 8: He tried to run away, well, she hit him with a hammer
- 9: There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard
- 10: She's got a common full of love
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