Inertial Note:
Weekend Alone
23 August 2018

Kathleen is off to see her father, who lives in North Carolina. He is hale and hearty at 94. Owing to one thing and another, it has been a while since her last visit.

As always, I begin by intending to distract myself from her absence by undertaking some overdue project, such as dealing with the piles of books in the bookroom, which are now more striking than the books in the shelves. Why must books all be so thick! There is no room for any of them in the bookcases now. but perhaps I can cull a few sacred cows — books that I have always owned, many of them my first expensive cloth-bound treasures — that ought to be let go. But this will make room for only a dozen books at most. I suspect that it’s the new books that will have to be weeded.

Daydreaming about getting all this good work done has usually faded by the time Kathleen lands at wherever she’s going, drubbed by myriad worries about her arriving in one piece. I’ll doubtless spend the weekend reading and watching movies.

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