The clock is ticking for an exercise I found online. Exercise. Who me? Just got off my exercise bike where I pedaled to nowhere for 25 minutes since I downed half a bag of salty pretzels. Twill lower my blood sugar. While pedaling I watched a doc called The Penelope Project about a nursing home in Wisconsin, their accents broad and innocent, like Ethan's who grew up there (my son/law). Suddenly I dismounted, went downstairs and emailed my boss Joshua who works at the nursing home to tell him to watch. He's undoubtedly asleep at home in his wife's arms. Who knows? Maybe she's nursing the new baby boy. At last they got their boy, cried Elaine, who's 94, and happy Trump got in. I agreed. Let's give him a chance.
The songs I've chosen for us to sing are Jingle Bells - yes I know it's childish - and Frere Jacques, which they sang on the doc. Isn't there a Mahler symphony which has a lugubrious version of Frere Jacques, well I spose Mahler was melancholy, with the antisemitism and death of his child, I believe, I'd do research if I had time but I've only got 5 mins left.
Aghast! When I opened up this diary, given me by Robin Franklin, there was a desiccated bug in the back, a stink bug undoubtedly. Mary Oliver, whose book Upstream, I just finished today, would've made something lovely of the bug, instead of tipping em into the wastebasket. Rightfully they should've been liberated onto the cold grass out front. But hey it's 10:25 pm.
Looked out the window and the Xmas decorations by Bob across the street were spectacular! These people are artists!
Willow Grove, PA
Love to write, obsess over writing, cannot stand getting rejected, will drive along the road and remember lines I've written, or find scenes that are memorable. Let's see. Drove to my kids' house for dinner and saw a couple of amazing things. One was a living room sectional, waiting for garbage day, and they were covered over with plastic, hoping they'd get picked up.