This week, Murgatroyd spent a sick day with me. We sat in bed together and watched Sabrina and American President. She took selfies of herself and my doll, which looks like a baby, and sent them to her friends. Erica brought us chocolate doughnuts. A very good day. I never got out of my nightgown.
Yesterday, we had lunch with Rian at Trio's to celebrate her 20th birthday. We stopped at Gardener Village, which Rian had never seen. I bought a vintage table cloth. Then we lay around the living room listening to This American Life's episode on concidences. I painted birds at art class that night. Very good day.
Last night, we finished watching the HBO John Adams series. What a pair of busy, dutiful bees he and Abigail were. I would have been an alcoholic, too, if I'd been their child.
The pear tree in front of my house is sprouting enthusiastically. A robin sang me a solo this morning. There is a piece of chocolate silk pie in the refrigerator.
A good day so far.
Lovely days. It was you I think who wrote on the apron stage: "Jung was right about EVERYTHING." The challenge, for me at least, has been the one of 'how I attend to and interpret all this sometimes maddening synchronicity, is up to me.' I love that a robin sang you a solo.
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Would-be medical exec from Iran barred from Canada over alleged ties to Tehran's nuclear program. Ramin Fallah was labeled a security threat because he ...
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