And just like that it begins again, the startling, eternal rebirth of that which had appeared to be dead. Jesus ain't got nothing on wisteria.
I really don't know what else to say this evening. It's been a fine day and I've got bags lining one wall of the kitchen filled with things to take with me to Lis's house. Flours of different types, raisins, butter-flavored Crisco, Caraway seeds, yeast, vodka, olives, limes, vermouth, potatoes. Is that redundant? In the refrigerator in the garage I have fourteen pounds of corned beef. And my suitcase is laid out on my bed. It's still empty but it's ready to receive whatever I need and want to pack in it.
Mr. Moon is on his way right now to take a friend of ours to the ER. I am going to give no details because this is a most private person. But this friend has been a friend of mine for ever forty years and he is someone I would trust my life with and his situation is quite serious.
It puts everything into perspective, doesn't it?
I really do find myself wordless right now.
I'll check in tomorrow.