Thursday, October 22, 2026

     My 80 year old father talks to four of us siblings during a birthday visit many years ago. He says he is proud of us. You each have your own special talents. The youngest is a medical scientist, the next a historian scholar, and the third an artist.   What about me I ask. Well, you are the practical one who gets things done. For years I ponder that unsatisfactory label.  I want to be a distinguished expert like my siblings.

     All day we waited for the rain that never comes.  Clouds, small gusts of wind. Late in the afternoon I turn on the heater. I am tired of being cold. The oak trees look desperate for rain.

     My roommate is busy all day out of the house, and gives out more baskets of tomatoes to friends. I hang out at home, doing chores, reading and taking a nap.

     In the evening, I search through different TV lists and hit upon a documentary about the comedian, Marc Moran, ARE WE GOOD. We watch the whole show, laugh some, mostly interesting. I am now reading Emily St. John Mandel’s new novel, EXIT PARTY. I love her work. All the news seems to be focused on predicting who is going to win the election.  Meanwhile the wars continue and inflation rises. The world is falling apart.