September 11, 2024

Waiting for somebody to do something to the furnace, which it probably doesn’t need, but which I paid for long ago when it seemed a good idea.

Weird prolongation of dry, high summer. Hard gardening yesterday, planting of the last of the present bulb cartons, spreading of red-brown pine needle mulch. Everything current is in the ground awaiting what people say will be a hurricane torrent this weekend.

Rehearsal. Enforcing an eccentric interpretation of Messiah requires K to repeat himself endlessly, with growing impatience, stopping after every measure to correct. If you have to correct too often, you are wrong.

Watched a documentary about Alvin Ailey last night instead of the presidential debate. I needn’t have been so fearful. The morning news reports that Harris more than held her own, that Trump revealed his true self more often than his supporters wanted. 

Furnace men discover that my de-humidifier was carelessly installed and had been simply leaking onto the floor. Furnace man decides to use my furnace as a training tool for his new apprentice. I conceal my thunderhead of impatience, silently climb the stairs. 

Bought flowers for Suzanne’s book launch. I thought I might go to Ottawa for it, but too much impinged.