Last night we watched the eclipse, but we both tuckered out and saw only the partial parts. My photos did not come out well, though on other nights I have gotten credible moon snaps. I thought of my 110 kodak instamatic camera, with its little square pictures. I have a scrapbook from 1980 of snaps of my first trip to England, all taken with a little kodak. I think that simple cameras teach one to make do and be practical, and to see life in gauzy dreams.
I ate chicken piccata, which I call chicken pinata. Thanks to a plug by
vuzh in his music weblog, a small but steady stream of folks are downloading my EP "Butterflies of North Texas". A singer I like sent me a mass mailing that her new tunes are on iTunes. I rarely venture to iTunes, far from my favorite site, but perhaps I'll make an exception. I like the way Bing Crosby sings "white christmas" in Holiday Inn better than the way he sings it in White Christmas. I ate a low-fat ice cream truffle tonight. The stars are warm tonight. I have not had a chocolate malt in years.
I looked up 5 relatives' addresses for Christmas cards tonight, using my skills at finding addresses. I should keep an address book, as it requires less sleuthing. My youngest nephew likes dinosaurs. Who doesn't? Perhaps
their prey.
I learned that the mom of one of my childhood friends died. I remember being asked to join them for dinner. It was my first time to eat baked lasagna. I thought it exotic and amazing. She apparently died peacefully. I'm only sporadically in touch with her son, my friend.
I have a long-dead forebear who was wounded at Antietam. This does not make me long to have gone to war.
I saw a kestrel on a telephone wire. I imagine warm days, and small kindnesses.