Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger

  • Mood:

in the dying light

It is now 5:43 PM Saturday early evening here in West Michigan. I am writing here in WordPress because no one reads this online diary except me. I feel like writing, but I already put away my paper diary for the day and I do not feel like writing in my other online diaries. I can write here just to relieve my desire to express myself in the dying light. Right now across the street a city worker is cutting up a tree that split in half and was blocking one side of our tree. I suppose the tree got too heavy on one side and just split down the middle. It was a nice tree to look at each day when I looked outside from our front door. I am sure the city in time will plant another tree in that spot. The city of Holland is always replacing trees that have either been killed by disease or blown over in a storm.

Carol came home, but left because her friend broke her arm and was at the hospital. This friend of my wife’s is a woman who is 90 years old.

I have been wandering the house since I last wrote here. I did lay down for awhile, but woke up when I heard Carol come home. Now I am alone again and feel tired, too tired to think or do anything but sit and talk to myself. Outside it is dark and rainy. Carol told me before she left that Andy, Beth, and Lou had landed safe at the airport and that Louisa was running around.

Nothing came in the mail for me today. At times I get sick of music and books. I am overfed. I need to fast and pray. It is blessing to be poor in Christ Jesus.

I do not know what I will do tonight to keep myself awake. Tomorrow is the last day of May 2015.

All I have attempted to read today is the novel “Satantango” by Laszlo Kraszbahorkai.

Do not know when I will see Carol again. She is always off on some errand of mercy. My wife can not sit still. What is she going to do when she is retired from nursing. I am sure she will find ways to be always running around.

Well I will close since I am feeling sick to my stomach. I am out of it. Something is wrong with me.

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