November 21, 2020

Bad night last night. I was freezing and couldn’t get warm, even though the furnace worked as it always worked. Plugged in the electric blanket, which solved one problem, but gave me a kind of fever dream of my trying to figure how a dozen different warming apparatuses could be shut off, when there was only one. Finished a thorough revision of The Nurseryman’s Wedding. Beautiful Necklaces got its first review, from M, who said it’s the richest and most beautiful thing I’ve ever written. The last box of peonies arrived. I planted them and a witch hazel, stored the tools in the shed for winter.

C forwarded a recording of himself singing with the Boston Camerata. Voice of an angel.