Things are going shockingly well; I am working seamlessly; perhaps I am channelling Jeroen, who says that it’s all the same to him, chaos or calm. The boys are most enjoyable; Evan has some sort of virus which has him at half-power. Of course I am not pleased that he is sick (and hoping for the best for the rest of us) but it is not objectionable to have it feel more like a law library here than a video arcade. Bill left for San Francisco for a week, after filling me with love. He was gallant, the house was clean. He knows how it is; his professional life is a series of writing things on deadlines.
He might like it if I were around more often, making life easier for him when he had to work, instead of cornering the globe. I don’t see that happening, although if anyone deserves a proper partner it is my husband, but a man can dream. Anyway, our sons teeter on the edge of the nest; within months at least one of them will be driving.
I have 13 more days; each of them will be as intense as the past 77. Bill said a terrible thing before he left, he said “What if you are still working at Christmas?” and I was unwilling to even contemplate the possibility.
This is one of my favorite pages, and it’s through formatting and edit (not that any of that means it isn’t still riddled with something) isn’t it sharp? The Gaudi quote is so perfect with the pieces shown. Click to enlarge.