What a desolate day. I got up at seven to walk the puppy, having learned I clench my teeth in my sleep and maybe that explains waking up with headaches all the time. It was still dark outside. Winter is knocking on the door. I have it barricaded. Hopefully it will hold for a while.
I'm about to drive downtown to pick up Ruth, who has an early art class each Saturday at a lovely gallery downtown. She will come home with paint on her clothes, clay under her nails and fresh inspiration, for she loves art as much as her father did. As much as the boys do. It keeps them civilized when otherwise I think they would grunt, accept a plate full of meat, beat their clubs for entertainment, go slay another wild animal with their bare hands and then invite me to be wrapped in the animal skin blankets they make and keep me safe through the night. I get all that now plus music and visual arts to keep us refined!
Maybe it's a silly day. Maybe it's just going to be a quiet day.
Maybe something great will happen.
Or maybe I will try for a nap. I do that every five years or so, just out of the blue.
PS I realize I never reviewed the Metallica concert. I will, perhaps tomorrow! It still feels like it was all a dream.
