Friday, September 14, 2012

It's raining and starting to feel as if the weather is beginning its tumble toward Fall.

Couldn't sleep last night.

Today I've been thinking about the reading next week,tinkering with a transitional moment in Appearances, and taking care of domestic stuff.  I cleaned up the kitchen, went to the bank, stopped at a rummage sale, shopped for groceries, sorted laundry.

Had a very good hour on the exercise bike this morning.

Called Mom and wished her a happy birthday.

Listening to Wilco now.

The mail just arrived.  Some of the envelopes are soggy.  Oh, and there's a fresh copy of the London Review of Books!  Unfortunately the CD I was hoping for hasn't arrived yet.  Maybe tomorrow.

When I talked to Mom she asked if I missed working.  I told her that I missed people that I worked with but not doing public health work.  She asked if  I felt lonely.  I said I did feel somewhat isolated but that I lunch with people I know from time to time and run into folks all the time when I'm out walking about town.  Mom said maybe I should get a hobby.  And I said, well, I have a vocation: poetry.  There was a silence.

Then I said, but I am seriously thinking about picking up a guitar and trying to teach myself to play it.  Mom said "Won't that be a solitary activity too?"

I said "Yeah, but I can pretend I'm listening to someone else play."

She said "Yeah, I guess you could."

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