Monday, June 24, 2019

Sunday morning at Alta Bakery, time to eat a croissant and write some.  The line is too long and there are no free tables.  I walk around Cooper Molera grounds and settle on a shaded bench in the orchard. I read from a new book, A PRIMER FOR FORGETTING, getting past the past by Lewis Hyde.  I write.  I am alone in the orchard. Pigeons, crows, hidden song birds, fallen apples under the trees.

Home again, my house seems shabby and worn. I move the wet clothes into the drier, open packages on the table, take out trash. Finally, I am back into my life.

A friend has made a sturdy wooden table out of old wood from my garage.  He thought it would be perfect for outside.  I put it in the living room.

I can’t find anything on TV to watch.