As it rains---and warms, the trees are going to bud. Before
Ground Hog Day. When the ground hog rears its head to look around, it will
probably screech and escape back into its hole as it will assume Armageddon has
arrived.
For many days, it was as cold in Los
Angeles as it was warm in New
York . Within a degree. The lemon tree at my Los Angeles house is
dead, probably more from an iron deficiency than from the weather. I wish it
had lived. Dying by lack of iron is a long slow death. Dying by frost is zippy.
I have a book here, Cheever’s biography, given to me by
people I no longer care for. It is propping up my computer. Perhaps it is time
to spring clean it out.
Speaking of books…it is weird to be of the generation that
went from complete paper to almost entirely digital. I long for felt boards,
finger paint and craft days.
2013 is the year of Lena Dunham. I hope she is being
responsible. She is so smart and talented. I imagine she has made some ass
kicking dioramas in her life.
Less caffeine. More sleep. Less worry. More devil-may-care.
What else is there but the planet? Without it, we won’t even
have a place to experience time.
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