One-Sentence Journal, Weeks Ninety-Two and Ninety-Three
05/07/2017: A slow day at work followed by a couple hours of solitude reminds me how perfectly suited I am to the withdrawn life.
05/08/2017: The Clark Fork is really beginning to boom with spring runoff, and it is equal parts frightening and magnificent.
05/09/2017: Mom is headed to England and I wish I could have stowed-away in her luggage, then expatriated myself while she connected in Paris.
05/10/2017: Remembering fondly my years in Washington, where everywhere I went I was peacefully anonymous.
05/11/2017: Lots of burly love in the air when Aaron Draplin rolls into town.
05/12/2017: I sleep through the opening five minutes of yoga class and only the thoughtfulness of my instructor, who leaves the outer door unlocked, saves Day 16 of my 30-day challenge.
05/13/2017: The Bitterroot River is running high while California Quail sneak through the bushes, and an owl calls me closer.
05/14/2017: The decadent luxury of sleeping in until 7:30 AM.
05/15/2017: Some much-needed contentment, however brief, and the pastel colors of evening sunsets in spring.
05/16/2017: The first hummingbird sighting of the season outside my window leads to a rapid reconfiguration of the feeder farm and the immediate production of a batch of sugar water.
05/17/2017: A yard covered in snow this morning.
05/18/2017: Stopping in a bar to meet a friend for a beer, the televisions blare “President Trump!” this, and “President Trump!” that, and all I can wonder is if there were ever two words less suited to follow one after the other?
05/19/2017: My old cat, Kitten, a 20-year veteran of my household, went on to the great beyond without me, where she will no doubt wait to keep me awake late at night with her random fuck-with-mes well into eternity.
05/20/2017: Roughly forty ounces of coffee were no match for a long week culminating in Day 24 of my 30-day yoga challenge.