I printed out all five essays on fascist design and took them with me to the poetry class. Oh, not to read, but to garner any feedback I could. Most members of the group looked only at the pictures, and I can understand their lack of enthusiasm for the topic of Fascism. I’ve been working on this stuff forever so I’m slowed down about it too. Wonderful editor Marianne suggested larger titles, fill in unintended gaps caused by the computer, find a name for the essay group, and alphabetize the links list. Suggestions like that were just what I needed.
We were at what used to be one of our favorite Mexican haunts. I felt very isolated at my far end of the table….out of it. The noise of the place generates a wall between those of us who have damaged hearing and those whose voices vanish into the restaurant chaos. I know that Elizabeth, at the far other end of the table, couldn’t hear either. We were two numb bookends, and later I burped chili all afternoon..
I go now every two weeks giving myself the gift of a day free just to write. This Thursday afternoon, I worked on laundry while I changed and alphabetized. George caught me still folding laundry as he pulled in after work. I cheated on dinner this night also. Frozen mac and cheese with knockwurst and slaw, then we were off to get me a new tail light and an upstairs faucet innard. I took a book, and while he shopped I read Walter Lord’s “Day of Infamy” feeling a bit like a kid reading a book under the covers after bed time. This book is a bit like a jumble sale of facts, but it remains a riveting record of the many accounts of what many people did that December 7, 1941 in Pearl Harbor. Later Person’s of Interest on the box. Both G and I find it has caught us up in its fantasy world.
Best of all, two nights now we have slept like rocks. I love being a rock.