is/was Saturday. Last Saturday in the third month of 2026. Well, we got here. I feel pretty safe. The world is going all to hell. Best thing I discovered today was that Willie Nelson believes in reincarnation. I’ve never given the concept much thought. One life has always seemed like plenty to me. I’m like an anti-Monkee, I’m not a believer.
Maybe I protest too much.
Speaking of protest, today was a day to do it. I didn’t do that either.
I read some of X, formerly Twitter, and fount out the world is ending. Sooner and more cruelly than I had expected. If I want optimism… I’m not sure where to go, what to do, or why or why not.
I generally believe things will be ok. I believe we get worked up from time to time to varying degrees, and often it’s like those dire weather predictions. We don’t get four feet of snow, or a dozen tornados, or really severe temperatures. It’s all publicity. Counts and clicks. If you’re reading this you’re probably still alive.
There is much beauty in our lives. Probably more beauty than suffering. We wake up to sunrises, we still have the sky above, the earth below, and us in the middle. Kind people, generous people. Room for us in our world. So far, anyway.
I had things to write about. Willie Nelson, a vacation taken years ago, my husband, hopes and curses, squirrels and peeking daffodils. Authors and lives, cities and mail, food and drink,
I had plans. They’ve kind of evaporated.
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