Evening Song
By Sherwood Anderson
My song will rest while I rest. I struggle along. I'll get back to the corn and
the open fields. Don't fret, love, I'll come out all right.
Back of Chicago the open fields. Were you ever there -- trains coming toward
you out of the West -- streaks of light on the long gray plains? Many a
song -- aching to sing.
I've got a gray and ragged brother in my breast -- that's a fact. Back of
Chicago the open fields -- long trains go west too -- in the silence. Don't
fret, love. I'll come out all right.
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My Tuesday was not as much fun as my Monday, though I did get to see friends in the evening and I am back to December 2002 in my LiveJournal archiving project, meaning I only have two months left -- those are going to take longer than the others, since in those days I posted every meme I came across in a separate entry, but at least the end is in sight. I also did work and got two loads of laundry washed and dried, though they'll need to be folded on Wednesday.
gblvr and I had plans for Thursday, but she needs to be at her new home then, so we met for dinner tonight along with wolfshark and her husband and did a bit of shopping (I had a coupon from Facebook for a free tube of shea butter hand cream from L'Occitane en Provence). We stopped in Hot Topic to see the Hello Kitty things and I bought Adam a Brony shirt and another My Little Pony shirt about being 20% cooler, though I had to have both references explained to me and be called a scrub for not already knowing.Ringer isn't making all that much sense to me but every time Ioan Gruffudd is onscreen I'm afraid I forget that. And in the absence of baseball, we watched an Animal Planet special about the oceans which was terrific. Scrapbook on LiveJournal has been horrendous the past two nights and I can't see thumbnails, making it ridiculously slow to find the photos I want, so here is a series of bees on purple flowers at Brookside Gardens last weekend:
