August 1, 2014

Talked briefly with my house cleaner yesterday. She cancelled last week and moved it to this week because “something came up.” I was going to fire her, but in the end I was too inert and said nothing. Find out that her son got a sudden lucky appointment with an autism specialist. He has Asberger’s. Prayed thanks that, this time, I did not make an ass of myself. Watched a DVD that began with a girl getting drunk and wiping out an entire family in a car accident. Prayed thanks never to have done that, too. Always something to be grateful for.

Did some nervous planting yesterday: that is, gardening I had not planned but needed to fill in a space that might otherwise have been given over to anxiety. Tubs with ferns in them, like in the garden magazines.

The front of 62 looks sensational, I must admit, after Will cleaned the retaining wall.

T is writing country songs on the basis of emotions he does not have and experiences that are as foreign to him as the man in the moon, aiming at what “sells.” I try to reason him out of it, but can hardly base my authority on my own success.

DJ is the first reader of The Lexington Tract. Claims to like it.

Ventured a comment on the current Palestinian crisis. Many of the responses were reasoned and informative. Some of the responses were emotional and declarative. Realized during the reading that it was a matter of character, that some will be evidence-driven and others emotion-driven always and no matter what.