New book, new journal. That’s another thing you don’t experience if you write a journal on your computer: that strange, wholly arbitrary sense of having “filled” one volume – one volume of what? – and moving on to the next. So this is my “next” right now, this moving. And as it happens, it corresponds with a temporary change in living arrangements as A. is home with us for the next little while. Bathrooms will be shared, larger meals prepared (and shared), and at least some of my daytime walks won’t be so solitary. There will be errands to run, space to be made, laundry to wash that wasn’t there for the volume of morning pages prior to this one. But this volume will record the change, too, when he leaves again soon enough, possibly to return yet again next month to be here with E. and Ax. who arrive in July for W.’s birthday. And then quite possibly, all three will again leave the following week. E. and Ax. are definitely only here for a short visit.
So, volume: breathe. Expand. Contract. And expand again. You will receive.
A.’s flight was about an hour late. I knew this and left later for the airport, but I still had to wait for ages, of course. It was cold. Everywhere it was overly air-conditioned. We drove to [town], straight to [restaurant] for dinner, arriving at 8p.m. It, too, was freezing. We asked the waitress twice to turn down the AC even a little bit. Truly uncomfortable. The food wasn’t great either. Oh well.
Beautiful weather this morning: quite a few fluffy, white cumulus clouds, but also lots of blue sky. It’s obviously not humid, you can tell by the clarity of the horizon line. Later this evening it might rain, and in the coming days heat and humidity will again move in.
I don’t intend these morning pages to be very topical, but yesterday’s political developments stateside were interesting. SCOTUS upheld big parts of Trump’s so-called travel ban, and the Russia hysteria is turning back on the idiots who started it. Isn’t this the course of all hysterical witch hunts? Didn’t the Salem nonsense only stop because Rev. Hale’s wife was accused, too – after which Hale saw Reason? Not sure what Reason looked like back then; she may have worn a robe, perhaps today she sports a bikini – or a pantsuit, even, although I doubt that. Trousers, yes. Jeans, ditto. But not ever a matchy-matchy pantsuit. A bodysuit, perhaps. Like Emma Peel, she has arrived to karate chop some sense into the ruling elite. Or maybe not. It’s only starting, the backlash. A small hint.