June 11, 2026

Woke stomach-ill, wondered why. Walked into the kitchen and realized that, while drunk, I’d drunk half a bottle of blue-cheese dressing. 

Infuriating rehearsal. Our director will lose count and fail to make an entrance in order to make fish mouth. For any arts director, the thing you correct most is the thing you’re wrong about. Never a better illustration.

Picked up the book of 17th century writings I bought in Waynesville. Went through, with surprise and delight, Bacon and Jonson. I was supposed to have read them long ago, but probably did not. 

My back door stood wide open when I returned from rehearsal. I left it open, creeping through the house, so if an animal got in it would have an exit. Seems to have been no intruder.