Returned from Corvallis, utterly worn. Duty was done, and that’s good. Most things that needed accomplishment, accomplished. Minimum of money spent. Minimum of social events, as well.
Today had a bed-ridden redhead, a spent Mnarra sleepwalking through his day, and an Othello who took us to a school choir recital, at the behest of one of his fan club, a singer in the choir. I slept for an hour first, and all was well. We had a surprisingly (to me) nice time, and Othello got to run manicly about with his friend, which is all to the good.
Zelda called this morning: “I need you to call me.” I considered various scenarios and responses — the favorites are “I didn’t get your call; Othello is screening them from me,” and “I didn’t think you wanted me to call, you didn’t call four times” — but decided that there was nothing to be gained from answering her call in any form. She has my lawyer’s number, let that be enough.
Bridgette recovered somewhat, and spent rather more effort than she should have cleaning the kitchen, doing some laundry, cooking dinner, and moving plants to the greenhouse. For my part, I slept an hour and wrote later in the evening.
I have not words to express how much help that was.
Words to Date: 580 words in 30 minutes — Good words
Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry