Yawn: Middle of the Night Blues

 Good Gawd. Woke up when I was reading two books: Hillary Clinton's well done HARD CHOICES and

Louise Penny's crime fiction book, I am globbing through.

All the Devils Are Here. 

I walked outside at 3:30 am-ish and threw away two pieces of salad I found on my bedroom floor. 

Sound of cicadas were settling down. No one was about.

Moon was blurry, halo around it. 

What would I do with a beautiful desk when I've already got a fairly hideous Ikea I found years ago on the street?

Hik hik hik from the cicadas.

Oh, look, it's Dr Hoffmann's desk. Ornate wouldn't you say? 

Hello Grandson Max. What a handsome young man you are. Thanks to sister Lynn for the photo.

ALL JUNK MAIL today, but I wanted to send a card. Luckily Mailman Sean was still in his truck wearing his SAFARI hat when I brought him a card with a stamp on it.

I HAVE RUN OUT OF STAMPS !!!!

SCOTT was delighted as he saw HUMMINGBIRDS hovering for the very first time.

Today on Turner Classic Films it is LEE MARVIN DAY. 

WHEN THE HUMMINGBIRDS HOVER 

In another life, I drove down to Norristown State Hospital and read this poem

to one hundred people. Among them was one Wade Berrettini, before his son

was killed by a passing car.

That's emotion, he said to his wife, Christine.

Emotion, the ingredient that divides us from spiders, autumn leaves, and the soprano's lullabye.