December 15, 2022

Rain. More rain. Considering that half the country lies under five feet of snow, we don’t complain

Stopped by Metro Wines, where the clerk was a woman whose wedding I conducted by lakeside a few years back. I asked if the marriage had worked, and she admitted that it had not. I wanted to say “not my fault,” but, of course, she hadn’t blamed me. 

Caught myself spinning my wheels on old grievances, unfinished quarrels, unhealed affronts. Prayed the spontaneous prayer, “Lord, grant that I not  be such a petty fuck.” .

DJ and I at Rye Knot taking advantage of a minuscule price reduction.