It is still Tuesday. Yesterday seemed like Tuesday. Something happened in the morning, the day before today, turned my day upside down. Just the day though. The world keeps spinning. I have reasons for moving.
For a November day, it was warm. We're supposedly going to have storms tonight that could carry in with them an armload of hail.
"Hope you paid your insurance today," my downstairs neighbor K said.
The forces of nature would be doing me a favor. My car is in shambles the way it is. But it gets me where I need to be.
Played lots of guitar tonight. I finally figured out that music is my passion, writing a hobby, and beyond that, I only wish for contentment. It doesn't take much.
I'm taking it back a few days, to the GLWF. Beth Ann Fennelly, people. Beth Ann Fennelly. Incredible poet, and what she puts down on the page...i don't even dare attempt to describe it. I don't give a damn if there are only three people...fine, two people who read this blog, everyone needs to check her out. To get to know her, hang with her, and work with her was a great honor.
I also had dinner with a friend I hadn't seen in a while, who is a writer, mentor, and teacher that I admire greatly, though Lake Street wasn't the best place for conversation. Karl told me that there was a funeral party there that night, Tom. People in E.L. really aren't that crazy.
Tonight I jammed with a four year old. He took out a little crappy keyboard my bro has. I played in C so that pretty much any white key that he hit would sound in place. The weirdest thing is, he stayed in time.
"How the hell's he doing that," I asked his father.
I wish to always get kicks from the small things. Like ladybugs, still alive late into the season, the growing threat to their lives lurking on the horizon with the onslaught of a harsh, Wisconsin winter.