31359

I’m not coming anywhere close to making wordcount, but oh well. Life continues and dribs and drabs become books.

I am feeling an Alex deficiency, but also deficiencies in other people’s company. I think if it isn’t raining too hard or too cold today (Paul and I watched wet snow fall from the relative safety of the hot tub at Edmonds pool yesterday, and yes I did swim laps, I didn’t just poach maself) I’m going to do a shop and go to the library and maybe pick up eggs and butter and almonds and hazelnuts and dried apricots for biscotti so I can take some to the housefilk which is ‘replacing’ Conflikt, since none of the Vancouver contingent are going.  Cindy’s hosting on Friday. Paul can’t come – he’s going to Seattle, grr, and the grr is ‘but we’ve been practicing, why can’t he play!!??’. But Tom and Peggy can. So, yay.

This is the second Conflikt I’ve missed since it was established. I’ll go again when 45’s out of office, or earlier if I can put down this feeling that I’ll end up in a gulag mocked by guards over my fat white neediness.

 

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Allegra

Born 1958. Not dead yet.

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