347 words yesterday

I finally got the urge to finish the edits and I will be printing and mailing the second half of the manuscript for UPSUN to Diane this week.

Katie and Alex are back in town, safe home after an exhausting but excellent trip. I am supposed to see them tomorrow and get hairs cut.

I helped my friend Sue with voice work auditions yesterday.  To be of loving service to a friend seeking her creative expression is one of the highest privileges of friendship, also it’s Sue so it was fun.  She definitely brings the fun….

Day drinking yesterday!  It improved my mood treeeemendously, thank you Jeff, and god, did I ever walk a lot yesterday – at least 4 k.  (Once to buy cream, once to mail a letter to those fuckwits at the literary agency, once to the pub, and now BLISTERS.) My groinal issue is no worse today than it was before I walked so maybe the exercises are really helping.

When Paul showed up wanting to walk again supperish I said I’d prefer to keep drinking and so he made me his version of a Michelada and it was very very tasty, and then I gave him the last of the spaghetti with meat sauce I made last week and Keith TEXTED me last night to tell me it was yummy, and that’s great because it was a big batch and I was tired of it and afraid it would go bad.

I played Otto on the back deck in the fading daylight.

Then Paul asked me to play this song on my laptop.  About halfway through the song I was weeping (I was listening to the music and never watched the video because there was too much light on on the screen), and I turned to him and said, are you crying, and he said yes.  And we sat there and cried, because even though the words are not about my feelings, I felt the song as a great elegy to all the beautiful things that have died out of my life and the creativity humans bring to keeping the beautiful memories of people and events and the big grand sweep of life where they can see them.  I’m not expecting anybody else to react as we did, but every once in a while Paul and I completely sync up on something, and neither of us can predict or prevent it.  I honour what is and I’m glad it is.

Colin’s dad died yesterday. I light a candle for his journey. Colin is already in Abbotsford and Catherine will be flying out but I imagine she will be too busy and grieving to stop by.

Be kind, my darlings.  Life is frequently short and infrequently sweet.