(Don’t trust
that I’m back, like, permanently.)
(Mostly I just
want to write something.)
It’s summer.
I’m
working rather a lot.
I like it.
Sometimes it’s flusteringly mad. Sometimes it’s...not.
Only complaint:
I spend all day promoting wine and viticulture,
and I’m just barely too young
to experience it myself.
In spare time I
read Victorian tomes (currently Bleak House),
drink coffee,
explore the woods,
run with Dad,
write poems that don’t make sense.
It’s easy to
fall into summer swimmingness and forget
how much I miss Gordon,
my friends,
my
favorite places.
But where I am
is good.
