Miles 24 to 26 the best two miles of the thoroughly excellent 36 mile Waterloo-Pinckney Trail, we hiked through it Tuesday, peepers and redwing blackbirds and sand hill cranes screaming!
I do not regret not bringing paint and canvases. Brought Cărtărescu and Proust and Ballard and McCarthy and not working and it doesn't bother me that it doesn't bother me it's not working. L and I hike in morning and early afternoon then she paints while I disc, write, then C and R come over for dinner and laughs and yap
Program note: my son-in-law (who I love but much more importantly like)'s first name starts with I and while the gag is funny for at least a few seconds I need an alternative and since I dropped the secret code names for L (wife) and C (daughter) I need a letter for I instead of I so I hereby declare that I is henceforth R, the first letter of his last name
R (and C) doomier than me re: our dystopian future: R and I sit on the back porch after dinner sampling various tokes and yapping, he understands how the world works and for whom, we laugh. I promised I wouldn't say more here, but he (and C) know the score. We (me and C and R) shock L with our doominess, our certainly our shitty species will destroy the human world in C and R's lifetime. That trees will survive us (R has the same tree-philia that I do). I link-fished to send him some of these and some stuff not here, they are below this photo from the porch where they were caught, I (not R) share them with you
TO BE WORN OPENLY AT THE WRIST, OR AT THE CHEST AND HIDDEN