leftovers, reading, cabin fever, and Don't Mind Me

Brilliant morning after all of yesterday's rain. Sunny and cold, the weather utterly transformed, temperature dropped twenty degrees or more. I feel full to bursting with wanting to express something this morning, but what? I don't know. So it's a feeling of frustration, relieved a couple of times by bursting into tears à la Holly Hunter in Broadcast News. I'm between books now, too, what to read next, I wonder?

Maud Newton was in my dream last night, climbing into an old Cadillac. I was in another car, tapped on the window, and said, hi I recognize you. She smiled but mostly ignored me and drove away. The dream, however, prompted me to google Muriel Spark this morning, and start The Girls of Slender Means before googlebooks cut me off at page 7 just as I was getting into it. So I think I will go to a library today, and rummage new books and old books and try to find something utterly compelling to read. I'll reserve the Spark.

No chili or cornbread for me but greens, of sorts: knocked off the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers for breakfast, turkey and stuffing, with orange juice and a mesclun salad.

I need another big book. It's like being without a lover, yet again. 

Off for a walk soon, that will help set me straight.

Come to think of it I dreamt about John Gorka the other night too.  I take it to heart when he sings "doesn't matter what you say, I just like the way you sound." I love the way he sounds, anything, anything at all that he might like to sing, and you darling, and Jerome, and Christopher, and Iain...

Kisses dearest, and later, with more.