Walking in a dress
Thought I'd insert a self-portrait. This was at the cemetery. I riched myself with the last strong sunlight, saw the expanse of time in this one place spread on a carpet of mown green. I saw yucca and daylilly, and a host of plastic flowers snuggled next to all kinds of headstones.
Today I'm back on the hilltop of Holiday Inn, sweltering again, with a cool breeze washing over me now and again. Twice at breakfast at the Huddle House in Pacific (6 miles from Eureka) I've had luxuriously good water along with the fake syrup for my waffle. We're hoping the tank arrives today. We can't find a pat of butter in any restaurant in the area. But we have entered hash brown country. Every place has its own drawbacks and rewards.
We feed the dogs and get all three of them outside regularly—mostly in time for Elvis. We did laundry yesterday in a brilliantly clean and white place with a fantasy of available driers. We eat. In-between, I appear to be writing madly, often about nothing much, from my spot in our part of this world. Thinking of loved ones we left and move toward.
Today I'm back on the hilltop of Holiday Inn, sweltering again, with a cool breeze washing over me now and again. Twice at breakfast at the Huddle House in Pacific (6 miles from Eureka) I've had luxuriously good water along with the fake syrup for my waffle. We're hoping the tank arrives today. We can't find a pat of butter in any restaurant in the area. But we have entered hash brown country. Every place has its own drawbacks and rewards.
We feed the dogs and get all three of them outside regularly—mostly in time for Elvis. We did laundry yesterday in a brilliantly clean and white place with a fantasy of available driers. We eat. In-between, I appear to be writing madly, often about nothing much, from my spot in our part of this world. Thinking of loved ones we left and move toward.
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