Thursday, September 16, 2021

New firewood is scheduled to arrive within the hour, and here's hoping I can get the old firewood moved into the cellar by the end of the day so that we can move the pile out of the driveway as soon as possible. But everything outside is so wet; we had thunderstorms and downpours all night, so I don't think I can really get started on this project till afternoon. 

Autumn chores abound: I've got yet another batch of tomatoes to sauce, more peppers to pick, and I should think about tearing out some of the flowers that have reached shabby stage. Already a few leaves have begun to fall, though the weather is still warm.

Yesterday I finished up the first-pass reading of my friend's manuscript and sent it off to him with comments, so now my desk is temporarily empty. I'll be writing this morning--working, I hope, on some four-word prompts from the Iliad--and then, after lunch, rushing into town for a haircut appointment before I devolve into firewood moving. I can see that this note to you is a chronological mess, perhaps an accurate depiction of my brain this morning, which keeps blipping little "gotta get [chore] done" messages like some sort of '90s TV-show pager.

To recap, then. It's mid-week, mid-September, in the early years of the second decade of the twenty-first century. The people of earth are in crisis, dying in droves from a virulent virus. The planet's climate is likewise shaky, and so is American empire. Nonetheless, in a small seaside city, in the nation's easternmost state, a poet is reading Homer and picking vegetables.


Carlene Gadapee said...

Such busy-ness!! I am jealous. I need a day to do things like that.

I read this article this morning, and it is fascinating. It made me think about not only the physical reality of not seeing color, but the whole absence of a descriptor in written work. What a mind-blowing concept to ponder. The person who researched it was triggered by the absence of any reference to blue in The Odyssey.

Ruth said...

Ah, that last paragraph is poignant.