March 29, 2017

R and DJ and I see the last and darkest of the Wolverine films. One might respect the performances without actually having had a good time.

Good painting for a while, then bad painting, when one sets down the brush and takes a break. Chat with my studiomates, one of whom is actually living in her studio, which she needs to do in order to pay back her graduate school loans. She should be doing better than she’s doing. She makes her own dyes out of crushed berries and the like, then makes exquisite, detailed drawings out of that.

Tried to work the garden, and got a little transplanting accomplished, but my body literally failed me. It stopped. I couldn’t move, but only enough to climb the stairs and lie down. My iron content is at a crisis, and I don’t know how to take any more pills.

The good news is that Minos the Mystery Turtle is back in residence in my pond. My order of tadpoles and snails arrived from Indiana. My waterlogged family grows. I hope somebody’s in there eager to begin eating the ropes of green algae.

Purple and gold in the grass.

Finished The Book of the Roses. It’s either a novella or a 33 page short story.

Plans afoot to go to Ireland with L and J. Unexpectedly excited at the prospect.