Wednesday, October 7, 2020

I thought I was tired of words but no I am tired of talking, of listening to conversations filling the air.  I live alone.  The radio and TV are off most of the time. 

The three of us meet on Tuesday mornings to write and read about our lives now. The written words are different then the conversation words. We sit outside at the coffee house wearing our masks with the timer ticking away.

I finish reading Robert Caro book WORKING.  I restrain myself from immediately ordering all of his other familiar books. I am so moved by his writing.

I am stuffing envelops for a zen center mailing this week. Easy work for me to do.