January 18, 2016

Was yesterday productive? I think it was. Brought Emma and Ellie to the seaside.
   
K’s birthday dinner at Bouchon, which was crowded and festive, and seemed enough like a real French restaurant to suit me. The help is faultlessly cheerful and sunny. But why were all those people out on a freezing Sunday night? Among us it was a happy company, and I reveled. Skipped Cantaria, and blessed God for it, as it was mostly choreography.
   
Waves of near-fury over the forms that must be filled out for the transfer of 62. Most of it is idiotic, though some of it isn’t. I say that out of insincere courtesy, for all of it, actually, is idiotic.
   
My study has just now gotten warm enough to work in–or rather, I have just now accustomed myself to the cold. Dark without. Bright within.