Sunday, November 03, 2002
There are some things that there's simply no way to approach but in an indelicate manner. Take, for example, the boil on my cat's butt. It's been the cause of much consternation this weekend, and we were actually quite worried about her last night. Sophie would get a seeping abcess on Saturday, when her vet doesn't open until Monday. It's so like her. Those who've known the pleasure of her company will understand and agree.
I should have done Chapter Five of TFoC yesterday, but I had a two-hour meeting (online) and a raging headache that lasted well into the evening, so no editing. I'm getting back on it today.
Except that the trees have hardly begun to change colour, we seem to have skipped autumn and gone straight to early winter. Foul, grey weather continues, drizzly uncomforting rain, chilly temperatures. Yuck. One wonders how, exactly, I intend to deal with the Providence winters.
I've developed a fascination with T. H. Lawrence's "The Ship of Death." I read it for the first time day before yesterday. It's really quite marvelous. I'm not sure what has me so fixated on the poem. Perhaps the way it speaks to reincarnation and the rebirth of the spirit. Regardless, it's beautiful and terrible.
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