Wednesday, March 5, 2008

accountant, gone, splurge, quiet

*I take the paperwork to the accountant. The smell of coffee. He buzzes his pencil in an electric sharpener (the smell of ground wood). Then we talk of politics (no new knowledge today, see below), of social security manoevers, of life.

*The boys are gone. We girls (dog and I) sleep later. ahhh!

*Alone,I splurge on spring asparagus, thin and steamed with no butter or salt. And cod cakes and crab cakes. And French cheese. And chocolate. And, and, not brown ale carried home in a jug from the pub.

*For the days alone I leave off the radio and TV--no news, no being jerked around by the analysts. Just Michael Jericho and Jewel in the Crown and quiet, quiet, quiet.

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