What I need at home is a desk with a view out the window; it’s that simple. I can never write around the house in part because I don’t have that. The one in this room is a hollow core door stuck on top of two chipboard book cases, but even with that it feels right. Saw some cotton batting in the studio I was visiting today, from the quilt shop down the road, and I think I may have to pick some up for myself…A clutch of five ducks flys low along the river. Nothing much of interest at the local thrift store, which happens every Saturday morning behind the church. Didn’t make any purchases. Around my neck is a necklace from Dominic. More snow falling outside. It has been all day. I want a hamburger. Saint-saenz “Sampson and Delilah” at the Met is on NPR. Brave the snow again and maybe do laundry? Yes.
Back from laundry and a burger at the local diner. I made a mistake in ordering the home baked beans, which were pintos, swimming in sauce. The New Bedforder in me cries out against that travesty. Navy beans, not pintos or kidneys and when properly made, the liquids should render down to a coating, not to a soup with beans bobbing in it. That slip made me decide to skip the Indian pudding and indeed dessert all together. Over the course of the day the snow has has turned dart-like and penetrating as the temperature has dropped to 16. One benefit of my koky hair is that I don’t really feel the need for a hat., and the beard keps the neck pretty warm as well.