Crooked Finger (crookedfingers) wrote,
Crooked Finger

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southern soul swamp opera

It is 2:19 PM Saturday afternoon here in West Michigan. It is another icy cold snowy day. I had been predicted to be very cold and snowy all this week. No one knows when we will see warm days this month. It seems the whole of the United States is covered with snow and ice.

I got up this morning around 5:15 AM. Wild crazy dreams drove me out of bed and also pain in my left arm and shoulder. So I got up to find Carol in her usual place in the living room. It seems like our life is set in stone. Nothing changes from one day to the next. But we are closer to dying so death is quickly approaching. Now is the Day of Salvation. Soon our lives we be over than the Judgment.

I had a typical morning today. I wrote in my paper diary and read a little from my books. I dozed during the Noon hours and woke up to made a fresh pot of coffee. Carol is still sleeping right now. We are both tired old people these days.

I did read this afternoon before falling asleep from a book titled, 'Henry David Thoreau: A Life' by Laura Dassow Walls.

I suppose I will close to feel cold to the bone. I doubt if anything is going to happen the rest of this day to thaw my old bones.

Last night I spent all evening reading, 'That Mad Ache' A Novel by Francoise Sagan Translated by Douglas Hotstadter. I went to bed around 11 o'clock PM, but slept poorly. I need healing in my left shoulder and arm.

a murder of crows
a murder of crows

a murder of crows

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