December 23, 2019

Bought my altogether too expensive flight to Ireland.

Listening obsessively to “The Christ Child’s Lullaby.”

Andrew Finn McGill and his friends gave a concert at All Souls– Christmas carols on violin and guitar, cello, hurdy-gurdy-- of shining excellence and giving deep satisfaction. I closed my eyes and went elsewhere, praise.

Woke and again had to search for the vanished Circe, who’d found another place to hide, head jammed into a corner. She is now at the All Pets. I have spent $900 on a cat’s infected ear. I expect the same today. As I said, exhausting. You get an infection. You get treatment, the infection gets better. I confess myself baffled.

Depression and uncertainty over Circe made me switch into self-anesthesia mode, and I have slept most of the day. The Lord was just in keeping me from being in charge of any humans in their crisis.