November 27, 2024
Weather toeing the line between autumn and winter. Roses survive: everything else withered.
T breaks a four year silence, texts me. I phone him, and we’ll get together (maybe) Friday– at my house, because he’s afraid of public places after COVID. His voice has the same effect on me that it had before. Will we mention the years of silence? His house was destroyed by Helene, and the search for a new one will probably occupy our conversation.
Discussion with a woman in Ingles about the problem of double yolk eggs in baking.
Constantly surprised at vehement hatred of religion on the part of my gay friends. Unfortunately, when they name their reasons, I cannot disagree with or refute a single one.
UNCA, which cut its own throat over a 6 million dollar deficit, announces it will spend 5.5 million trying to attract students with free tuition, now that it has no faculty to provide the requisite classes. The only response is a stiff drink and a long nap.
Restored the winter feeding stations under my dogwoods. After two days everybody has returned. The arrival of the red-bellied woodpeckers announced “It is accomplished.”
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