Last night I dreamt I was plastering a wall with ice cream.
The wall was made of wire mesh with American flags
woven through the holes. The word I spoke was: wadding.
Yesterday I started God Bless You, Mr.
Rosewater for the
5th or 6th time. I always finish it, too. As I read about the
melancholy music of rain, it was raining. It's been raining a
lot. It always comes as something of a relief. Summer is
wild here; I try to drown the sun in beer. Now I can relax.
The sun came out today and I found a place to sit and read
The Sun magazine,
which for some reason we receive in
duplicate. That's nice; Sarah and I don't have to fight for it.
Later, we meandered through the neighborhood, going down
streets we'd never visited in 9 years of living here. We brought
along and tossed it on a newly lined
playing field where kids played soccer, kicking their balls. A
big wind came up and sent a fleet of helicopters
down from the top of a high tree. The other day such a spinner
landed on my shoulder and stayed there for several blocks as
I walked to Marketime during Saturday's soapbox derby. It
fell off only when I stooped over in search of a veggie sandwich.
A stranger picked it up and handed it back to me....