A mix of fiction and nonfiction.
A mix of the imagined and the real.
I'll not tell which is which.
It has turned gorgeous here.
Sun and birds and breeze.
Spring breeze makes me feel fine.
Some sort of construction in the neighbor's yard.
Otis and Kelley had Deacon.
7 pounds 11 ounces.
Big boy.
Any time I mention Janet or introduce her I preface it with “my girlfriend”.
I'm mailing pictures to her today.
I'm going to the ocean today.
To breathe.
To calm myself and center myself for the next step.
She and I will have to go it alone with only 4 other people from our 3D lives as allies.
And a few who we thought would be allies aren't.
That's a shot in the nuts, let me tell you.
I know a man.
I know a man who obsessively mows his lawn.
I know a man who obsessively mowns his lawn until it is bald and burrowed into.
As if he's digging a grave with the blade.
A grave or someone he wants to keep close by.
A trophy.
He's manic and sloppy and disheveled and slightly insane.
He's practicing.
The grave he burrowed with his lawnmower is shallow and out in the open.
He doesn't care if I see him practice.
He buries ham bones in the shallow grave.
He should really use the ham bone to make stock first.
Such a flavorful broth that would be.....
okay this day is nice and I've spent too much time typing.
So off I go to do my things and read on the deck later.
Read about James and his friend Leonard.
I'm more than half way through it.
Already almost halfway through my day too.
Toodaloo, All.
Toodaloo.
PS: She was here, see?:



Below, "Trash Stickers" is my hand writing:

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