Good morning, darling. Just checking in with hugs and kisses for you. I feel tired this morning. I didn't sleep well last night for some reason, on the floor again by the stove - pellets had been obtained. The bluegrass hour came on at six, a little hyper for me at that hour, so I took the opportunity to go upstairs to the spare room where I slept til nearly nine and dreamt, in one dream, of Ruth Reichl, and in another, of you. I was agitated about something (a leaking oil sprayer that I couldn't shut off) and you were tanned and handsome in a dark orange t-shirt and you smiled at me quizzically and charmingly and calmed me right down. I have homemade mushroom pizza baking in the oven now. I will go for a walk later. It's sunny and beautiful out. I just filled the bird feeder. There are buds on the lilacs. Waved hello to neighbors as they drove past. We haven't spoken in years for some bizarre reason that I truly don't understand but there it is. They talk to D, but not to me. It has something to do with the fact that she has babies, and I don't. She felt insecure around me, I think. (I don't want your babies, all right lady? Jeez. How primitive.) Reinforces the feeling of house arrest and pariah-hood. Well, sometimes those grooves get worn in for no good reason and so it goes.
Now why did I go south like that? I'm not even in a bad mood, more a tired langorous one. Maybe I'll take a walk around here. I hope you are well and happy and that the day is full of delights for you. Kisses, darling.