Reset Forty-Two, Day One
Jul. 3rd, 2022 05:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphHopeful that Saturday would provide me with a decent amount of sleep to make up for the shortages I suffered Thursday and Friday, I went to sleep early in the morning, but woke up five hours later and couldn't get back to sleep even though I did not feel rested. I gave up trying about half past nine, and spent the rest of the day stumbling around in a daze. Late Saturday afternoon I started nodding off in front of the computer, so went to bed and napped. The nap also lasted about five hours, so I'm not completely caught up, but at least I'm somewhat functional. Maybe today I'll sleep better.
From the array of foodz acquired Friday I made a fairly complete dinner after my nap, though I realized I totally forgot to get fresh vegetables other than three ears of corn. There was a bit of leftover broccoli and I ate that, but I don't know what I'll do for the rest of the month. There are a couple of not-very-good frozen things, but I think I've used up the last of my canned vegetables. I just got way too focused on fruit while shopping this time. Watermelon is a nice snack, but it doesn't make a great side dish.
Late Saturday evening I heard the first fireworks of the season. There were several loud booms not too far away. I'm a bit surprised they didn't start earlier. Over the last three years I've heard them as early as mid-June. They aren't legal in the mini-metropolis, but some people have them anyway. Scofflaws! Mostly kids, I suppose, trying to add some interest to the dull lives they lead in this dull town. Can't blame them for that, but I wish they wouldn't scare the animals.
It's gotten quite pleasantly cool tonight, though the apartment is still clinging to the day's heat. The fan is on and the windows are open, so it ought to keep getting better until I go to sleep. It will be only 80 degrees today, according to the forecast. Back to searing heat next week, alas. Very soon tonight, back to sleep. Hooray.
Sunday Verse
by Carl Phillips
There it lay, before me, as they had
said it would: a distance
I'd wish to cross,
then try to, then leave
off wishing. Words like arc,
and trajectory. And push. The words
themselves over time
coming to matter
the way, in painting, color does: less,
finally, than the gesture
each stroke
memorializes.
A kind of sleep
that will look like death,
they said,
A kind of waking that will look
bewildered.
I woke,
as it were. I was not
bewildered. The distance as uncrossed
as it had been,
but now a clarity — like that
of vision. A kind of crossing.
Parts that the light
reached, relative
to everything else, what the light
kept missing. Spirea
in a wind; wind in the spirea's
leggy branches — I could make
distinctions: weeping
spruce, weeping maple. I could love you
as I had loved you — as only
humans can love each other: it's
a human need,
to give to shapelessness
a form.
From the array of foodz acquired Friday I made a fairly complete dinner after my nap, though I realized I totally forgot to get fresh vegetables other than three ears of corn. There was a bit of leftover broccoli and I ate that, but I don't know what I'll do for the rest of the month. There are a couple of not-very-good frozen things, but I think I've used up the last of my canned vegetables. I just got way too focused on fruit while shopping this time. Watermelon is a nice snack, but it doesn't make a great side dish.
Late Saturday evening I heard the first fireworks of the season. There were several loud booms not too far away. I'm a bit surprised they didn't start earlier. Over the last three years I've heard them as early as mid-June. They aren't legal in the mini-metropolis, but some people have them anyway. Scofflaws! Mostly kids, I suppose, trying to add some interest to the dull lives they lead in this dull town. Can't blame them for that, but I wish they wouldn't scare the animals.
It's gotten quite pleasantly cool tonight, though the apartment is still clinging to the day's heat. The fan is on and the windows are open, so it ought to keep getting better until I go to sleep. It will be only 80 degrees today, according to the forecast. Back to searing heat next week, alas. Very soon tonight, back to sleep. Hooray.
Sunday Verse
Fray
by Carl Phillips
There it lay, before me, as they had
said it would: a distance
I'd wish to cross,
then try to, then leave
off wishing. Words like arc,
and trajectory. And push. The words
themselves over time
coming to matter
the way, in painting, color does: less,
finally, than the gesture
each stroke
memorializes.
A kind of sleep
that will look like death,
they said,
A kind of waking that will look
bewildered.
I woke,
as it were. I was not
bewildered. The distance as uncrossed
as it had been,
but now a clarity — like that
of vision. A kind of crossing.
Parts that the light
reached, relative
to everything else, what the light
kept missing. Spirea
in a wind; wind in the spirea's
leggy branches — I could make
distinctions: weeping
spruce, weeping maple. I could love you
as I had loved you — as only
humans can love each other: it's
a human need,
to give to shapelessness
a form.
