January 17, 2026

Security cameras record a figure in a wool coat moving by night across the garden, slowly, then returning at a run. He glances to the side to see if he is watched from a window. I figured someone tried to take a short cut, shaving the loop off Lakeshore Drive. You CAN do it, but it’s hard to find in the dark if you don’t know it’s there. He scurried back in confusion. His bulging backpack was suspicious. 

Received notice that I could flip the switch to the solar panels on. Did so. Finally. At long, long last. Are they working? I expected some sort of fanfare after all this sturm und drang. 

Bought dirt to fill the raised cedar beds, filled them about 2/3 of the way. The dirt was frozen, so the complete gesture is a time off. The boy at the garden store lifted all three bags at once, which I had to drag one by one from the trunk and quiver up the stairs with. Fiddled with the pond pump. Bought a new bird feeder and filled the rest. 

K’s rather gigantic birthday dinner at the Hilton. Fun. . . though I realize I’m not good in the middle of a bench with no way to get out when the need to get out hits me. C’s son to my right wants to go into city planning. He is working at a Pizza Hut to prepare for this. J to my left told of a wonderful trip to New York. She wants me to direct Amahl and the Night Visitors. The restaurant personnel was kind, but we must have raised a ruckus. Someone said as I walked through the lobby, “There’s David Hopes. I love his poetry.” I pretended not to hear, but, boy, I did.

I cannot type a sentence without making a typo.