HIDE-AND-SEEK SUN

We saw some sun today, although it was a hide-and-seek kind of day. The temperature rose and fell according to the light, of course, so you had to run around with a sweater, at least. 

Where the day went, I am not entirely sure. And I am a bit extra distracted this evening as the mother of a close friend is very ill. I had a telephone conversation with another friend who is in similar straits to my own, which doesn't do much to cheer one up. My bank account is quite low, particularly after I filled up my gas tank and bought a bunch of greenies and other kitteh supplies.

So, although I am feeling kind of sad and bereft, anticipating my close friend's loss and knowing that loss is what all of my cohort will be dealing with shortly, I just don't want to carry on too far. 

At least I woke up with two kittehs on the bed with me.

Emmy does not understand why Albert and I can go out and she cannot.

LET IT RAIN

Sadie Thompson here, writing from Pago-Pago. This rain is crazy boring! Bring on the marines!





















Yeah, rain. And lots more to come. I moved the tomato plants onto the screened-in porch because they were drowning practically. I should probably venture out and move some of the others. It's the grey and lack of sun, more than the wetness, that gets to me.

I guess A & E are still sleeping. Oops, here comes one now. I was up a little too late, but I was able to sleep without medication. Fun and somewhat crazy dreams starring my friend Janine C. and John Slattery. I woke up to an Emmylou sleeping very near to me. Progress!

Now it is tomorrow and I am still awake, although I think sleep is possible. Still raining although there were several hours of respite. We did not get the derecho here, no thunder and lighting nor gale force winds. It is kind of cold though.

I needn't worry; I have two cats on my bed! I'd take a picture and post it however I have no idea where my iPhone is. That and my feet are cold. 

A and I took on the task that no likes to do: cleaning out the refrigerator. M was so pleased she said she thought angels would sing each time she opened it.

I did a bunch of laundry having found a missing cache of clothing when I visited my storage space. And I listened to more of Dearie.

Down the street to the south.

Up the street to the North.

My grand-niece is in Europe with her father who is the drummer for Burt Bacharach. Her blog is quite charming. You can check it out here.

The best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

SIPPIN' ON A LITTLE NIGHT TRAIN

"Sippin' on a little Night Train ..."  The Black Light, Calexico.

Been listening to Calexico for the last several hours in anticipation (hot anticipation) of the upcoming gig at Celebrate Brooklyn. Patty Ramona, an unimpeachable tastemaker, has lauded Calexico for years and I never fully attended to them. Now, however, I am a convert.

Well, it was touch and go in the falling asleep department, but I did and pretty much staid asleep except for coughing fits (allergies). I did wake up early to face full-frontal sun in the backyard, but decided to get more sleep. All in all, a baby step towards more regular sleep. Now, if I can just keep the computer out of the bed, largely stay away from alcohol, and take my medication at the right time, perhaps I can get into a better rhythm.

And writing in the middle of the day is part of the plan as I sometimes write this post late at night from the comfort of a feather bed. It is likely better for me to do it earlier, if less philosophical and retrospective of the day, but that's maybe okay.

Must go to sleep. I did not sip on any Night Train, but I did have some white zinfandel as I  made pizzas. They turned out well. Got a bunch of errands done and listened to Dearie: The Remarkable Life of Julia Child in the car and as I did some bedroom redecorating. 'Tis is a hell-of-a-good listen.



So this will be a short one.

Napping friends.

The first tomato.

WAY TO DEAL

The SIP right after an a rainstorm.

Well, the rain stopped, at least for now. And notwithstanding my optimistic post, I did not sleep. Very frustrating. I need to change my tactics and just go to bed when I am that sleepy and hope that I sleep through the night. I have also started taking my laptop to bed, and that is a clear no-no.

So, I will trudge through the day as best I can. I did use some of my insomnia to good effect, running the dishwasher and finishing the dinner dishes. And I did some snorkeling around the internet, not that I don't do plenty of that anyway. So coffee, then litter boxes and organization as tomorrow is bulk pick up day and there may be some things that can get out.

I spent part of the day listening to lectures from my coursera History of Rock class. Little did I know that Good Lovin' by the Rascals was a cover version. Here's the original by The Olympics (interestingly part of the early Los Angeles music scene). I kind of like their ... funky, "dumpy" as my brother Carl would have called it, dirtier sound. But the Rascals had so much joy and urgency in their version it is hard not to prefer it. Plus, the Olympics did Western Movies, which I always thought was the Coasters or the Drifters or something. Which is very much fun.

And just for fun, here's George Harrison and Bob Dylan rehearsing If Not for You for the Concert for Bangaladesh. Very sweet. In the last lecture, the prof talked about Louie, Louie (here's the original which I don't believe I've ever heard). Some of you out there will remember that KALX (UC Berkeley radio station) had Louie, Louie marathons wherein you could submit a version and they would play. My old roommate, Lou, and I wanted to do a chicken-clucking version (just try it), but we lacked the recording technology (I know! Hard to believe!) and, perhaps, the necessary passion.

Cuddling with Emmylou: the view from the pillow.

Yes, it is true! Emmylou Irene Patsy Clownpaws continues to grow into adult cathood and is more regularly sleeping on the bed. She didn't exactly crawl into my arms, as Cooder does, but she did sleep with me for a good hour. Baby steps.

And Cooder! Well, just look at what she got accomplished today.

This varmint has plagued us. Not too bad for an old kitty. Emmy is still looking for it. I have been left other rodent tributes, but the vanquishing heroine has not reposed besides them (generally, I nearly step on them as I get out of bed).

Albert got a summer cut and is quite natty, although camera-shy.

There is no real way to deal with everything we lose. - Joan Didion, Where I Was From

ON AND ON, ENRAPTURED

In some way, this bulb is related to M's family. 

“She read on and on, enraptured. She could not understand half, but it excited her oddly, like words in a foreign language sung to a beautiful air. She followed the poem vaguely as she followed the Latin in her missal, guessing, inventing meanings for herself, intoxicated by the mere rush of words. And yet she felt she did understand, not with her eyes or her brain, but with some faculty she did not even know she possessed.” 
― Antonia White, Frost in May

Inventing meanings for herself. Yes, that was how I felt reading The Brothers Karamazov for awhile. But I have cranked up the audible.com recordings I bought a long time ago and that is actually helping my comprehension. I still have a lot to read and I have not even picked-up the novel, except to move it, since Thursday.

Meanwhile, the rain is just pouring down. I feel like Joan Crawford in Rain, just going crazy from its incessant drone, steady and unyielding for hours now. I realize we are lucky to have it as there is plenty of drought elsewhere, but it can (and will) get on your nerves. Which brings me to my one of my usual favorite quotes from Apocalypse Now, "Saigon. Shit. I'm still only in Saigon." Which is how this incessant rain can make you feel.

Later. Yeah. Still raining. 

Feeling very sleepy and thus am pyjammied and embedded in a fashion. Almost too tired to go to sleep, but we know that won't last very long. It's 61 degrees but it certainly feels cooler. I almost had to go looking for my down booties, but think I will just warm my feet under my down comforter, which I still have on the bed. I know it won't be long until I am complaining about the heat. But this summer, I will have a couch on a screened-in porch to try out for hot nights, too.

In other news, Emmylou came up to sit on my lap and get face pets several times today. And she is making an appearance on the bed every night, which pleases me.

Wild strawberry growing in the driveway gravel.

Subway laps.

Der Tupester last week in Brooklyn.

RIVER, PAVED WITH CEMENT

Chillin' with Cooder on the SIP.

It being 12:13 p.m., and me still being in my nightgown on the screened-in porch (henceforth, SIP), seems high time to get busy with some chores. My desk top, physical, is a mess, my bedroom is a mess, and the dishwasher needs to be run.

M, J, and I saw Dave Alvin and the Guilty Ones last night at the Towne Crier in Pawling. Tonight is the last night for this old music bar in that town. Dave utterly shredded. Of course, at some point during the show, I wanted to go call my brother Carl and rave to him. Not going to happen.




Dave is from Downey which is the next town over from the town where I grew up. All part of the post-war California dream which seems to have gone awry, just like the rest of the American dream. Dave has one (well, way more than one) really good song, Dry River, (here are the lyrics), which is particularly resonant. 

I was born by a river 
that was paved with cement.
I was born by a river 
that was paved with cement.
Still, I'd stand out in that river,
And dream that I was soaking wet. 

Plenty of dreams out of context for the reality of my life. I guess if a dream is commensurate, appropriate for one's place in life, it isn't really a dream. But I certainly feel paved with cement sometimes.




Now Monday. 12:48 p.m. and I am showered and dressed. I slept very late, which I don't like. Gotta keep struggling with the schedule. And not fall too deeply into bummerland as it is overcast and both cool and muggy today.

Emmylou, demure, restrained.

I am not sure where I came across this little tidbit of time-wasting about gauging one's happiness. Some of them I do fine on, for instance having hobbies and supportive friends, but I must say, my first thought in the morning and my last thought as I (try to) fall asleep are certainly not happy ones, full of hope and excitement, or accomplishment, although that occurs from time to time.

So, I am not going to go on at length here, right now. I have plenty of little things that could use some attention if I do not want to take on the bigger issues of life, but I do need to push myself into the deeper waters again, and get busy swimming. 

APART, NOT A PART

Maybe they are more aware of the gap between men and beasts, being more occupied with the likenesses, the links, the whole of which living things are a part.
— Ursula K. LeGuin, The Left Hand of Darkness

Still working through my stockpile of quotes from books I have been recently reading.I even have some The Brothers Karamazov in the queue. Happily, my Kermit Place Readers were able to share some insights and frustrations about our current undertaking, and so, we press on. 

Raining quite a bit here in Brooklyn today. Grey, cool, and, of course, wet. 

Which is kind of how I am feeling. I caught up with one of the B's this morning. We hadn't seen one another for such a long time, and only had 90 minutes or so, that we made an agenda and took turns talking. That worked out well. We covered a lot of ground and we can go deeper next time. We made a date to go see Amadou & Miriam and Bombino at Celebrate Brooklyn in two weeks. And I may get a free ticket to see this B in her off-Broadway play, My Big Fat Gay Italian Funeral.

Meanwhile, the other B is coming over for dinner and John and Mel's in about an hour, so I should get up and get cooking. Making chicken breasts with mushrooms and rosemary, roasted broccoli, maybe sauteed boy chok and spinach, and basmati rice. John and Mel both have to work late (and Mel started early as she started with a trim for me!) but I am sure they will be happy to come home to laughter, wine, and a nice dinner.

Meanwhile, I am feeling a bit sad, and I think part of it is this spying business that our supposedly liberal government is conducting on all of us average joes. I find it enormously upsetting, particularly when coupled with the persecution of Bradley Manning, the other crack-downs on whistleblowers, and all the rest of the perfidy going down. I guess if we are not in a corporation or an approved arm of the government, we are not them, we are separated. Not a part.

I enjoyed being on the subway yesterday and seeing the mulitplicity of humans. I took some, I think, nice shots of what my KPR pal Emily refers to as "fellow travelers."

Oh, and before you look, here's a birthday shout out to my stalwart, EJB, truly trying to keep it, and keep it real, out in La-la Land. Much love, sistah.

This is my favorite.

This fellow was exceptionally good-looking, but ya don't see that here. 

WAKE UP, PONDER ALL THE WORLD'S TROUBLE

At least this morning's soundtrack is pleasant, Percy Mayfield's Please Send Me Someone to Love, (Eric Burden's is not the version in my head, but the others were copy written protected ... and it gets better).

Back in Brooklyn for another two nights. I came down to see Patty Griffin kick off the Celebrate Brooklyn bandshell season. She was quite good, but I wasn't close enough to be immersed in the music as I like, so while I enjoyed it, I felt distant. What do I want for $3.00 (suggested donation). 

At any rate, the evening was lovely, like exquisitely chilled wine, producing just a slight frisson of coolness. The air was clear. The people sitting around me were not too noisy or anything, didn't talk too much through the music.

I am staying with John and Mel, my old building, and I can finally be here without feeling the loss and the wanting of my old apartment. Getting used to it. That's a relief. 

Tonight is my book group and I will have likely read this month's assignment although I am no close to understanding what the point of The Brothers Karamazov is. I will do some internet research a bit later to see if I can get some insight. One of the B's is in the group and she, too, is challenged by this one. I can see Dostoevsky's brilliance as writer, but man, this is a tough read. I am enjoying listening to Crime and Punishment much more. 

I suppose my other option is to listen to The Brothers Karamazov as I had long ago purchased (and forgotten) this from audible.com. We shall see.

Today is cooler, only getting up to 71 today and rain tonight. 

So on with the day.

Cooder and Emmy enjoying the porch.

WEATHER SWEET AND LIGHT

Road trip with Albert.

Huzzah! Success in sleep! Oh so lovely. And Cooder was comfortable enough, the weather having broken, to sleep in her usual places, mostly on my pillow in purring distance of my head. That really makes a difference. And I should get back to sleep now, but I started listening to another book, The Giver, which is kind of a Young Adult novel recommended to me by my fellow blogger and friend, AJB. This book won the Newberry Award in 1994. I was a little dubious at first, but AJB told me that it had a good twist and to hang in there. Now, I can barely stop listening.

The weather was as sweet and light as the best dessert you have ever eaten. Utterly delightful. M, having her Tuesday off and her daughter A only home for a short time before moving West for a job, decided we could all go on a field trip to the Walkway Over the Hudson, a former railroad bridge that has been refashioned as a cool National Park/Historical Site. The weather was pretty darn perfect, if a bit bright and we all enjoyed it immensely.

After a pit stop and tour at Louise's in Rhinebeck, we headed home. The rest of the evening was spent trying to stay awake and listening to The Giver and Crime and Punishment. Well, at least part of that time I was working on cleaning my room, organizing my winter clothes, and duct taping together an ancient dresser drawer that is falling apart. I need to complete some more tasks before I head down to Brooklyn/Manhattan for a few days.

I did read The Brothers Karamazov in the car today. I am having a very challenging time with it. It's very dense and thematically unusual for me, being about Russia, families, sex, and religion, so far. This is not to say that it is bad, but I am so struggling so much just to figure out what the hell is going on at all, that I feel as if I am missing quite a bit. I suppose this is why folks read it more than once. 

From Night and Day:

She lives, you know, one of those odious, self-centered lives—at least, I think them odious for a woman—feeding her wits upon everything, having control of everything, getting far too much her own way at home—spoilt, in a sense, feeling that every one is at her feet, and so not realizing how she hurts—that is, how rudely she behaves to people who haven't all her advantages.


This puts me in mind of the quote that ended my post from a day or two ago,

Obliviousness is a luxury of privilege. - Allison Glock

THE MOON IN THE STREET

Nasturtiums digging life.

June 3rd, 2:30 a.m.

At 5:00 p.m., I was so tired I could barely speak English or keep my head off of the kitchen table during dinner. It's now 2:08 a.m. and I could watch Episode 3 of Borgen. I don't get it. Was I, am I supposed to go to bed when I am sleepy? I was afraid to take a nap because it might keep me up. And here I am anyway.

Just sayin'.

June 3rd, 1:57 p.m.

Well, finally fell asleep but was woken by multiple calls to my telephones before 9, so sleeping in was out. That's bound to make me a little bit cranky.

I spend almost every night thinking about death, thinking about losing my mom and Cooder. Every. Day. I finally decided to take Cooder in and get her checked out. I know I have been talking about this for months, but she has taken to sleeping under the bed quite a bit. As I might have mentioned a couple of days ago, this could be due to the heat. She still eats and comes downstairs every day. I mean, it could be something that is  treatable, that will help her be more comfortable. And I have dilly-dallied long enough, worrying about that, too. So we are going to the vet in an hour. Just do it.

But I am almost in tears. Is that due to exhaustion? 

June 3rd, 6:53 p.m.

I swear someone in this neighborhood gets off work and then either rides around on his power mower from 5:00 or until dark, or he is a recreational chainsawer. I realize not everyone is as sensitive to this kind of noise as I am. After all, the noise of air conditioning is one reason I eschew it in most situations. But seriously, what the fuck could this person be doing every night for several hours? Non.Stop.

Okay, well, whew. Off for a while. 

I tried napping but could only doze. Hopefully, I got enough rest to not be a danger to myself or others.

The news from the vet was encouraging. Cooder has only lost a few ounces, nothing to be particularly concerned about. No masses or anything (there that engine goes again) so no obvious signs of cancer. They did an x-ray, which I had to say was pretty cool, having never seen a pet x-ray before, and that all looked pretty good for a kitteh her age. She has some arthritis in her lower spine, but nothing crazy. They did some more blood work which is hella-expensive, so we will see how things have changed in six months. But nothing obvious. So $350-dollars-I-don't-have-later, I can chill out a little bit.

The night was very still, and on such nights, when the traffic thins away, the walker becomes conscious of the moon in the street, as if the curtains of the sky had been drawn apart, and the heavens lay bare, as it does in the country. — Virginia Woolf, Night and Day

9:29 p.m.

Almost a respectable bed time. I am a mini-mess today. Sometimes I miss Carl (my brother so much). I was just watching this Emmylou Harris clip and remembering how Carl hipped me to Vince Gill being a good musician and how I wish I could talk to him about this. And how Carl was with us, though much younger, when we first saw Emmylou before her first record came out at the Long Beach Bluegrass Festival. I met Jerry Garcia there, for the first of a couple of times, as he was playing with the Great American String Band, a short-lived band that included Vassar Clements, David Grisman, and Taj Mahal.

In other news, I was able to coax Cooder out from under the bed and she is in her appropriate place on my pillows. It might be cool enough for some cuddling and purring, which my soul could use. As I watch Episode 3 of Borgen, she is snoring. I am smiling.

Peony in the sun.

GET WHAT HE COULD OUT OF THAT

But as it fell in accurately with his conception of life that all one's desires were bound to be frustrated, he concentrated his mind upon literature, and determined, philosophically, to get what he could out of that. — Virginia Woolf, Night and Day

Okay. Quote of the day dispensed with. Very muggy. Heard various rumors that ... wait, these are not rumors, these are weather predictions. It's not as if people are running around here whispering in each other's ears that a big thunder and rainstorm is expected in the next few hours. I didn't water today as I kept expecting the rain to start, but then it would get sunny again.

A rough night again. I was up late and had to work very hard to not get bummed and freaked out in another long dark night of the insomniac soul. M woke me at a reasonable breakfast hour to make sure I got in on A's (excellent) waffle action. I tried to stay awake after but was not successful. I didn't sleep long or deeply enough, and when I finally got up again I never really woke up. Well, except now, sort of.


The best news of the day was that the first of my bulbs bloomed. Here is the spraxis! Yay. Very exciting. And buds a-cumen.

Der family had a beach day, so I lazed around working on knitting projects and watched Behind the Candelabra. Two words: Rob.Lowe. Unbelievably creepy as the plastic surgeon. He's just such a fun actor these days.

I got back out to work on the screened-in porch as it was not as intelligence intensive as trying to organize my desk or read The Brothers Karamazov. Yeah, behind again. I guess I will have my work cut out for me tomorrow on that score as I plan to take some sleeper's helpers and make sure I don't have another ridiculously late and fraught night. No reading. Or watching the new season of Arrested Development, which is what I ended up doing last night when I couldnt' sleep. (So far, not impressed.)

The pets very much enjoyed the results of my (our, can't forget all that A did yesterday) labors. 

There's Cooder on the left, Emmylou on the right, and Albert in the back right.

E and C hung out on the porch this evening, test-drove, and approved of it as a hang-out area. So all good there.

It has some charm, nest-ce pas?

And so, really to bed. I think I need to shower before I sleep as I didn't get around to it earlier today and I am a bit sticky from the work and the day.

And here comes the rain. (Wow, a Grateful Dead quote without really meaning it.)

Emmylou having a nap.

Peonies are blooming.

Cat-peony action photo!

Got to leave you with this quote I nabbed from the New York Times Sunday Book Review today:

"Obliviousness is a luxury of privilege."
- Allison Glock

NEITHER BRIGHT NOR DARK TINTS

Adirondack lilacs.

Yes, it is getting late. I've been on the go pretty much all day and am hopeful that I will be able to sleep. And now that I think of it, I'll take a bit of sleeping medication to make sure I don't toss and turn too much.

It was cooler by two degrees but it certainly did not feel this way late this afternoon. M, A, E, and I all sat around the family room much like panting dogs, waiting for the sun to go down. This global warming business is surely not going to be any picnic 

Worried about Cooder, of course, but thinking it is mostly the heat that is getting her down. She's eating and drinking and will come to me when I call her, so I'll just continue to monitor her. 

A and I did some deep cleaning on the screened-in porch and got some of the pretty white lights hung which make the room quite pleasant. There was a power outage this afternoon for an hour or two. While we were waiting for electricity again, I just lost all my energy. I had to sit around stinky and sweaty for quite awhile until the power was restored. It was out in the whole town. 

We also had a sweet barbecue. I made two different flavors of chicken (balsamic-rosemary and an Asian black pepper). I also pulled out the baby bok choy that has been sitting around for a couple of weeks (at least). I trimmed off the dead parts, chopped up the rest, lightly steamed, and then marinated in a sesame-soy-garlic-rice wine marinade with cut up cucumbers and sesame seeds. Quite tasty. M made a different, more Italian flavored cucumber marinated salad. Happy happy joy joy.

More Adirondack lilacs.

I did make my reading goal in The Brothers K today, but I am still very confused about what I am reading about. Sometimes I like it, but I do feel lost as to what I am reading about. There's a lot about Russian religion, about which I know almost nothing. Yet we persevere.

Here's my Night and Day quote of the day:


Each moment was to be, as far as he could make it, complete in itself, owing nothing of its happiness to explanations, borrowing neither bright nor dark tints from the future.

BREAD AND BUTTER IN HER HAND

It was hot again today, and muggy portending the rain we are supposed to get again (I think). Yeah, it was 90 degrees but it is supposed to fall to 61 tonight, which means I can sleep without the fans. And no thundershowers until Sunday. Tomorrow will be only 88, which means I can tell myself it is cool enough to be productive.

I'm still surfing or skirting the depression wave, but my head has staid mostly above water. As per usual (for most of us), I never get as much done as I think I should, but I did get things done. Like I finally made it to the post office and I think my brother David's birthday card will actually be on time. Like I finally mailed my mom's Mother's Day tribute. And I even mailed off some curtains to Larry in Schroon Lake for the downstairs rather than keeping them and guilt tripping myself for not liking or wanting them anymore even though they are nice curtains. And! I finished knitting another scarf that no one wants! Just have to do the finishing touches. And start another.

There's just been a bit of weight off of my mind getting that Monsterwood edit done. I started cleaning my desk (high time), and installing the drivers to actually get my new printer  ... which I have had since October or November ... actually working.

Cooder is looking awfully thin and spent a lot of the day under our bed, but I think that was mostly to do with the heat. I can't imagine it is cooler there than on the porch with the fans on us, but what do I know? Emmylou staid around today, following me from place to place.

Yes money and work are getting to me again, having finally come to the end of my Amazon money. I stretched out that stuff.

I think J is on the deck playing bass, but as it is dark out there, I cannot tell where he is. It's appropriately broody and muggy. M is going to the Marcus Samuelsson restaurant in Harlem tomorrow for brunch, so she's headed to bed.

I need to get something on my poison ivy! Yes! There is more. And finish my Brothers K reading for the day.

I suspect this is Brewster's swimming hole.

Yesterday, I took down a bunch of quotes from Night and Day (Virginia Woolf, you will recall). 

"If I am late, don't wait for me," she said. "I shall have dined," and so saying, she left them.

"But she can't—" William exclaimed as the door shut, "not without any gloves and bread and butter in her hand!"

Oh, and don't miss this Meygan Kelly taking down Lou Dobbs and some other asshat of the first degree.

ART CAN BE GODDAMNED HARD

Yes, it is plenty easy to complain. Hot hot hot. Muggy muggy muggy. Stupid stupid stupid. Lethargic lethargic lethargic. 

The pets and I spent a fair amount of time on the screened-in porch today, me editing Monsterwood and making progress in The Brothers Karamazov, them sleeping and looking at me accusatorially. We needed a fan out there as there is no air moving at all.

As it turns out, a cold beer tastes hella-good on a hot evening. I had kind of forgotten, but as Anna and her friend Brianna made a fabulous summer pasta dinner (basil, tomatoes, garlic, mozzarella, olive oil YUM!), I broke my alcohol fast. Then again, I don't like how rapidly one gets tipsy in this hot weather.

I barely left the house today, so I will need to get out early tomorrow before I become incapacitated with heat again. 

I finally finished my edit of Monsterwood and am feeling quite accomplished in that regard. I had plenty of other, distracting options such as the summer clothes hunt, washing the woodwork on the screened-in porch and hanging the new white lights, cleaning the refrigerator (always an option), etc. But I told myself that I needed to get this edit done so that Jason and Louise and the world were not waiting for me.

I had too much sugar today, but I can be better tomorrow.

And I finished Crazy in the Kitchen, thus getting up to date on my 52 book reading challenge for the year! I do need to make better headway in The Brothers K as the group meets next Thursday. 

"On this day, preoccupied with a piece of writing that has not been very much fun in the making, I am cranky. I think, This is one message—that music is fun—but not the most important message. The arts, I think, aren't just fun. They're essential. They're bone, flesh, blood, sinew, should, spirit. And art can be hard, goddamned hard. To make, to witness."
—Louise DeSalvo, Crazy in the Kitchen