written August 17, 2012

I have found often in small ways to smile more.  Passing by a previous picnic spot, noticing the vinaigrette  bought but not yet sampled, the Calvino on my table.  Both of us working in our respective offices, writing to have others take notice of our awesomeness.  My phone, sitting silent through the hours.  Although this is the first communication in nearly the star are not so far, and the nearest of distant constellations are a consolation.

I spent my evening delving head first into the Bleak House series.  It feels like its own surreal world; after finding my bearings quickly with the numerous characters I have quite enjoyed it, and am fascinated by the Jarndyce-Skimpole dynamic.  I would watch a portion, become interested in some reference or theme, and do a bit of research (of course).  This is a question I would ask:  What it is about the county of Hertfordshire, besides luck, that derives such uncommonly rich literary history?  Yes, perhaps on such a small island over the centuries there are only so many places to serve as a work’s setting. Regardless, the storms and general dreariness of yesterday created a fitting mood.

So, now for the important matter of the weekend.  One idea is to visit Soulard’s market tomorrow morning.  Perhaps a few purchase for a domestic lunch together?  Well, other than this I have little of a plan, and simply envision exploring the neighborhoods that suddenly seem more welcoming.