Checking in after quite the analog weekend; we know we're in trouble when the dial-ups fail, but at least half the packing is done! [My dear B: Email that story to your editor this morning. Remind me to get in touch with the Boston Globe guy in Sarasota] Getting back into the swing of things with black ink in cups and Peter Howard. L back from France tonight, M to Ireland on Thursday (a month together and we got no time alone, my fault, I know). No sharing of house, big as it is. How now for the week to come? Content.
2003-06-30
Rachel
Previous Posts
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- timing After we made love we went out for dinner....
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Od' und leer das Meer.
-- T.S. Eliot
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