Tuesday

  • the flare of woodsmoke at dusk as I near home, rushes and flushes of childhood in there
  • dinner just daughter and I (+ patient pleading dog)
  • bad teaching day with a gap chasm crevice between intent, action, and outcome. And realising there are mediocre days and, well, that’s what they are and what today has been
  • scared about how the essay can be rescued or at least recovered. It’s stupidity is obdurately and confidently staring back. Smug little bastard.