A Visitor

November 12, 2009

Dim but distinctly blue morning. I slept late, having arrived home at midnight stupid with exhaustion. Nevertheless, I sat for a minute at the keyboard. As I did I heard something on the porch. Actually, I thought it was in the livingroom, but hoped it was on the porch. It was a big, prosperous raccoon, just having pried the lid off the steel can where I store sunflower seeds for the birds. I went out on the porch with him. He wasn’t aggressive, but neither was he terrified, thinking, I suppose, it was as likely I’d give him a treat as shoo him away. I did shoo him, but then relented, and shoveled a shovelful of seed for him down onto the porch. He returned and leisurely munched away until I turned out the light and went to bed. Where such a large animal hides during the day I have no idea. His name is Murphy.

Maybe I’m bewitched, but I think Hamlet is going to be good. The boisterous green room sat silent last night, eyes glued to Adam pumping out a soliloquy we’d heard fifty times, but by which we were entranced wholly. Polonius is tedious, but I suppose he’s supposed to be. Claudius conveys nothing much, but most people will already know the story, so it may not matter.

Picked up all the promotional material for The Beautiful Johanna at the printer’s yesterday. I feel like a diver balanced at the end of the board.