Friday Morning

One of the drawbacks about starving the cats overnight is that sleeping late is not as fun as it usually is.

Literature

The great literary challenge is to make the most beautiful and compelling music with raw language alone, trying to generate meaningfulness with mere words and syntax. We have a quotation from Flaubert on just how challenging that is.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

“Human language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat our tunes for bears to dance to, when all the time we are longing to move the stars to pity.”

-- Gustave Flaubert

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[Source: Michael Schmidt, “The Novel: A Biography”]

Pop

Pop asks for his handbag; he's going to spend the weekend away, presumably at Kay's. What a break, what a break!

Wankery

Oh, shit! I’m too casual with the time!

With Pop gone for the weekend, I took the laptop to my room and was luxurious about it. When I was done and cleaning up, I thought about all the time I wasted. I realized it was two hours, shaking my head, feeling a little annoyed with myself. Then I remembered that the laptop battery does not have all that much capacity. It has been so long since the battery came even close to running out on me, I forgot about the risk. I rushed to connect it back to its power-source.

The Fourth

The cats are a little disappointed over not being let out. It is that time of the early, sunlit evening when I’d let them go, and the weather is as dry and calm as can be. However, it is the Fourth of July, and it will be sounding like a battleground out there tonight. Funny, though, it is so peacefully quiet now that it is difficult to imagine the transition. I guess you could call it the calm before the storm. The cats cannot understand it, but I am doing them a tremendous favor, but such is my love I can live with the ingratitude.

Monk

Feeling drearily low-ebb again, I took a nap after dinner, which was a little before eight-thirty. I even managed to get in some sleep despite the sporadic fireworks. I struggled over whether to forget thinking about it as a nap and to just make an early night of it, but I am up. I suppose much of it is just my age, as well as my genetic inheritance from mother: I feel as though I could make a life of sleeping, just getting up for the occasional bite to eat, and maybe burning off a little energy reading for an hour when I am feeling a little vigorous, reading and journaling a little. My life’s routine is kind of close to that anyway, like an invalid on Magic Mountain.