From letter of 13 July 2008.
Feeling a little annoyed with myself at the moment. Rummaging through drawers to find the scarlet package of molinard de molinard. It survived two moves in Brooklyn, and then the move up here. A twenty-year time period, easy. I could have left it sitting in a drawer harmlessly forever, right? But no, for some reason some bout of housekeeping - too often destructive - possessed me a couple of years ago, and thinking I'll never wear this scent again, I threw it out.
What is wrong with me??!!!
What wouldn't I give to inhale the scent of stale Christmas trees right now.
Opposites: my sister, who lives in Hawaii, is an archivist at Shangri-La, I kid you not.
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