Monday, March 25, 2024

     During a break in the intense rain showers, I walk on my deck and then sit in a wet chair. A fluffy bluejay is moving though the battered grasses.  Finally, the bird hops up to the wooden fence. In the distance, sounds of sea gulls and Canadian geese. I move around searching for them, but no luck.

      I am in bed in the dark room, almost morning, almost awake. Footsteps in the hall way, doors open, water running, shower, more footsteps, more doors.  Airplanes pass in the sky.  My daughter comes in to my room for the goodbye.  She is wearing her mask to protect me from her cold.  Hundreds of hellos and goodbyes during the last 50 years. Maybe thousands.

     I am excited waiting for the news of the former president’s quest to find a half a billion dollars for the court. 

    I am now reading NOVEMBER 1942, an intimate history of the turning point of World War !!, by Peter Englund.  I was two years old in 1942.