Cold blustery afternoon, wind chimes clang in a stiff breeze. Wondering where you are, if you've gone back across the pond, or what. I wonder about Darling 1.0 too, his page hits have ceased in the last several days, though I shouldn't be surprised. I still think about him but think it would be best if I didn't at all, if he (in my mind, that is) would just recede back to the deep-freeze where he was for thirty years. It's so useless, and my feelings have shifted. And yet no one's around, and yet still I hold hope for, what, some fifty days or so from now - maybe? am I dreaming? kidding myself again?

I live in dread of receiving a message from Brooklyn that my friends have canceled their trip. No news is good news on that. They're exceedingly, exceedingly reliable in every way, have never canceled in the several years now that I've gone down - but of course there's always the unforeseen emergency. I keep my fingers crossed, that it will all happen. Towards that end, to expand my repertoire of salad dressings, I observed and took careful notes when D made caesar dressing at lunch, spooned over chopped romaine and panfried chicken tenders. The occasion was the fresh supply of garlic and olive-oil infused homemade croutons that I made yesterday from the baguette I'd bought in Rhinebeck on Sunday.

I didn't do a workout today, just couldn't get up the energy, but I did go for a walk. No ducks or geese, though somewhere in the distance but out of sight I heard a few excited honks. Started reading Patti Smith's memoir, Just Kids, that recently won the National Book Award. She writes beautifully, spare pictorial prose that moves. It's a page-turner, and a sweet story. It's a little hard to square actually, they're thought of as so radical, out-there, "bad" - Mapplethorpe and her - not that I know so much about either of them at all, but that was the reputation I'd gleaned at the time I'd first heard of them back in the late 70s when I was at my "good girl" Seven Sister school. But those really were two sweet, mixed up, brilliant, talented, cast-out "just kids," not "bad" at all - talk about the need to reframe what's "bad" or "good." They were genuine artists who seem to have managed to eventually commodify themselves as well, I guess - I'm not there yet in her book.

My darling, wherever you are, and for some reason (?) I think you've gone back overseas, all my love and very many kisses. Do you like caesar salad? Perhaps we can make it for ourselves one afternoon for lunch. Thinking of you and now & then - but not too often so as to use up its powers - look at the photo I have of you peeling a clementine. You have the most beautiful lips. I kiss my fingers and then I touch the screen - just there.

Sweet dreams, darling. I hope it all, all happens for us as we desire - "before sunset."

Past sunset here now, darkening fast. Literally I mean - not metaphorically.

Many kisses again, tucking the covers up around you in case it's tomorrow where you are.

XOXO