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April 19, 1997
Second Entry for the Day
It's raining. It's pouring. The old dyke is snoring. Bumped her head and she went to bed and got up snoring. Didn't know I could snore while I'm awake! Amazing! What will I discover next? Infancy was the last time I could put my toes in my mouth. I wonder if they taste different after 45? After 50? And will the rain ever stop? And where is it going to go? There is already water everywhere, over the edges of the ponds and rivers and the basement. Cellar. Basement. Which is it? I try not to use cellar because in the rest of the country that means where you keep the wine but in New England it means the gaping hole under the house where you keep all the junk you're too cheap to throw away and it might come in handy some day you never know when you'll need a broken black and white TV or a tire for a car you don't have anymore or an artificial Xmas tree and a box of string too short to be saved. You never know. Never.
Why are my hands cold?
Why is the sky gray? How come kids never ask that? They ask why is the sky blue. Maybe 'cause they're so used to it being gray. It's not easy being gray.
Anne returned my umbrella this morning. She came into Starbucks with her husband and I asked sort of sheepishly if she had seen any strange umbrellas. She said: "Red?" I said "Yup." She found it in her car. She thought it was her mother's (Zena's). I don't know whether JoJo or Zena took it and left it in the car, but it has been returned to me now.
Tom has a cold. Philosophy Larry is reading a book about scientific complexity by Heinz Pagels while his son draws complex patterns on a piece of white paper. Nana arrives and asks how was Russia. Gee, was that the last time I saw her? She thought I'd gone back to work in a soulless corporate job.
It's no longer raining but the air is damp and the sky is gray.