Frederick

 September 14, 2026

Hot day of the endless summer. I really don’t mind if it’s endless. The sweatshirt I bought to wear to choir camp was far too warm. 

Unexpected and thorough remake of The Last Poet. Its problems were so easy to fix I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Often when I return to a piece I realize I simply gave up, imagining it was “good enough” since nobody was ever going to see it anyhow. In some ways The Last Poet is my best, at least the “best” piece that people are likely to understand the first time through. Were they ever to see it. 

I am Charlie Brown and God is Lucy. 

Enormous, enduring dreams. Getting up from the bed to use the bathroom is like doing so in a cinema. Last night at one point I was a Hollywood dancer.

HART announces its season. It too abandons serious theater. 

I have a new grand-nephew, Frederick. Not informed, but read of it on Facebook. 

Lake Logan

 September 13, 2026

Weekend spent at Lake Logan at choir camp. Hated it the least in memory. A red-shouldered hawk awaited me when I pulled into the lodge parking. In remarkably good voice. My frozen dozens of Christmas cookies finally found consummation. Arrived home and slept four hours. 

I experiment with PT on Tuesday, which is well, for I could barely make it up the modest slope between the dining hall and the lodge. 

 September 11, 2026

Terrible anniversary. Everybody of a certain age has something to remember.

Revision of plays that will never be done, better and better, pearls lying in a sealed casket. 

Can’t write a sentence without making two typos

AVLGMC last night. Labor over music not worth laboring over, everything chosen with an eye to mediocrity. Calculated mediocrity is even worse than organic mediocrity. Thomas leaves the rehearsal room for a while, then mopes in the car about not getting any of the solos. I agree it is absurd. He would have been the best, but something else was in the mix. Best doesn’t matter anymore. When do I decide what to do about it? 

Great joy last night when two screech owls came to my trees, gurgling and ghosting in the darkness. I loved them utterly. 

 September 8, 2026

Roaring of machinery. My vegetation keeps me from seeing if I’m blocked in or not. 

Spotted one of my feral kittens, them I watched just after birth playing on the porch, with the ugly brindled fur. I see one or the other of them from time to time down at the tool shed, where they might abide. This one was unkempt and horribly skinny. I explained to him if he’d just let me pick him up I’d feed him and care for him and he could sleep on a pillow on my bed, but he was not persuaded. Certain souls run from all comforts. They must have their reasons. 

Symphony Chorus, Carmina Burana. I think I had fun.

 September 7, 2026

Lovely Labor Day, cool, the sky an agate of grayish variety.

Finished They’ll Need to Know What River It Is after almost finishing it last night. 

The aerator will have to be cleaned every three days. That’s still better than not knowing what to do and not knowing how to do it. 

Choir returned to St George’s Sunday. 

Stupendous volley of fireworks last night. I’ve never heard the like, and couldn’t decide just what they were. They must have been quite close. By the time I got my shoes on to explore, it was over. I keep to myself the fact that I rather like them. 

The long-awaited AS Window book came out, and is a major disappointment. Almost every one of the photographs is bad–what is a photo book without the photographs?–reproduced in a way that flattens and pales all features and makes everything look grossly overexposed. It may be the fault of trying to economize on paper stock. The text is limp where it might have sparkled. I offered a dozen times to help. The lay-out looks like somebody’s uncritiqued first draft. Even the fonts are weird. The hope to use this is a fund-raising device is not going to be fulfilled. The unexpected shadow is that D was the energy behind this project, and how could he be feeling after years of preparation? The next part is that D’s son drowned in Lake Michigan two days ago. You leave all the threads on the ground, hoping they find a way to untangle themselves. 

September 3, 2026

Exhausting, extended head wave. I’d hate to be one of my plants, standing in the sun all day.

Lunch with DJ. After 15 years he’ll be missing his week at the beach.

AVLGMC rehearsal. B has found a process to insure mediocrity for the foreseeable future. The part of me that recognizes that this is no longer my concern needs to convince the rest. 

Nearly hit a bear on the street while driving Thomas home. They are very black. We need to furnish them with those reflecting vests repairmen wear. In the car Thomas discussed my being Virgo, saying it was exactly right for me, being so grounded and all. I do in fact feel grounded, rooted, founded. Trying not to let that become “immovable.”  

 September 2, 2026

Contributed to Jamie Ager’s campaign. Used to buy his produce at the Farmers’ Market

Birthday yesterday. Went to the Fresh Market for my free slice of cake. Early (before 9 and the slamming down of the Great Heat) it was weeding and dead-heading, whereby I’m covered with little cuts. Looks like I warred with a gang of cats. 

Symphony Chorus is now gigantic, and has a new director, J, who’s also taken the reins at First Baptist. Different in many ways from K, similar in other ways. It’s good to get a fresh start with a new conductor. J takes things less personally. Sat beside tall John who is from Eau Claire, WI, and worked in IT, but left his job to explore new options. Good voice, minimal reading skills. That’s why he has me. R, our president, looked incredibly sexy with his new hair cut. Does no one notice this but me? 

Stock portfolio is today half as much in the red as it was a while ago.