Here is what I did today: woke up, fed the dog, read some Herzog in bed, had a really strong cup of coffee, started reading Age of Iron, had mind blown by said reading, watched it pour outside (and pour and pour), wrote a very short chapter, answered the door when some crazy Christians showed up and sent them on their way, ate some leftover roasted chicken, had a glass of wine, scratched under the dog’s chin and on the top of his head for about ten minutes while his tongue hung out slightly in bliss, made some really terrific broccoli rabe-potato salad, ate the shit out of it, read some more of the Coetzee book, waited for the clouds to clear, let the dog take me on a walk down a path to some currently unoccupied summer homes on a lake, freaked out slightly because it totally started to feel like a slasher film, laughed at myself, and then came home to another glass of wine.
I should have engaged those crazy Christians in longer conversation, because it might have been nice to have someone to talk to besides the dog.
Nah.
Such green green grass!