August 17, 2019

David Adam’s birthday

E had been fighting a brain tumor, which was extracted in May. I had a hard time talking to him last semester, as he seemed disoriented, even mean. Total explanation.

Golden tomatoes out of my garden, seedlings from last year’s plants, which were themselves seedlings from the year before, the only year I actually planted tomatoes. Gaia.

The lady who took the two paintings actually sent me a check.

Wore my AKRON T-shirt, and the delicatessen lady at Fresh Market revealed that she had grown up in Ellet, moved to Goodyear Heights, living near Brittain Road at 6-corners.

Finished a revision of Tub last night. Renamed it Summer Boys.

L reports that Barry tried to get that atrocity of a commission back on stage, averring that we should perform it at GALA. Some peoples’ cluelessness knows no bounds.

The goldfinches come to eat the seeds of my zinnias. Their gold and the flowers’ orange are glorious together.

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday morning, and I’ve already done a day’s work.

Say something. I’m giving up on you.