November 5, 2010

Bright, cold morning.

The bride’s dad sidles up to me and says, “I wish we had gotten someone else to do the service. . . someone spiritual.”

I’m sitting at my desk reverberating from the shock of finding Night, Sleep, and the Dreams of Lovers, whole, intact, sound, blessed, blessed, blessed. It was in a file where I would have never saved it, discovered this morning while I was just idly poking through wondering what could be safely deleted. And there it is. I will keep from the laity my conviction that I did not save it there, would not have, could not have, though it was saved. In any case, the world turns around.

Planted twenty or more lilies. Received delivery of a rototiller which is far too big now that I decided not to take the Pine Forest property. Do I send it back, or keep in hopes of larger times to come?

The L wedding was sweet and happy, all cozy and candle lit while the sleet fell outside. Felt affection for the lot of them. The groom was handsome, the bride was beautiful, the families were (so far as I could tell) at peace. Stopped at the Usual on the way home, heard the life story of a woman caring for her invalid dad.