passages

today marks the eleventh anniversay of iris's death, in her own bed in the wee hours of the morning --- and tomorrow is dead john's birthday --- so here we are

Dame Judi Dench Masterfully Does A Shakespeare Sonnet | The Graham Nort...

it's been a minute

i have so neglected this stupid blog --- not that there is anything wrong with that --- i type and post pictures when i feel like it, and when i got something i need to bitch about in semi-public i guess --- but i got nothing really to bitch about beyond the tired old few: trump and blood-relations and friends who continue to support republican politics --- for me, that is a deal-breaker for any relationship ---- otherwise, life is really fine --- nightly visits from the juggler for snuggling and what not --- he is a total fool but at least very smart and semi-sane, and just about the kindest man i've ever met --- and i love him a lot --- 

UGA press's publication next fall of the coochee history remains on track, and i have wound up the columbus woodruffs' family history project to their satisfaction, and mine --- i might rework it into something publishable, should i get in the mood to do that, but for now it's their's  with a fork in it --- 

meantime, i continue to watch the toulouse requiem, as i call it, most evenings

and the animals continue to aggravate me