November 19, 2017

Yesterday was a perfect day. Spent the morning, as I had intended, painting, and discovering that the walls of the gallery are not going to be as bare as I feared. Took a few to the framer, and realized that getting them professionally framed will be ruinous, so I’ll do that myself, as I did in days of yore. Tony mowed and mulched the lawn (this was a surprise; I thought he was done for the season) and showed me how his truck had been wrecked (it looked like it had been attacked by a crocodile) and M borrowed the truck to move firewood, and in the evening it was off to the Magnetic for the final night of Uranium 235. Drove forlorn Q to his call. He is the most fearsomly focused and advanced young man. The theater was full of colleagues and friends, and proved a last triumph topping three weeks of triumph. Though not my best work, this has certainly been the best received of my stage pieces. David and Daniel and their girlfriends came up from Atlanta, arriving at literally the last second before the show began. We drank beers and partied at the house until went off to their hotel. Daniel’s girl had just had a tonsillectomy and was braving it through. Parts of the day I was frantic with the mess and fuss and upheaval, but those moments sink into the general golden haze of at least momentary satisfaction.

Found the latches to close the French doors in the dining room completely. It is possible they have not been closed firmly since I moved in.