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NauenThen

Sunday wrapup

Fourth Street, on a walk with Karen that came at a moment of synchronicity: just as I was putting on my jacket to go for a walk, she texted to see if I wanted to go for a walk. I ate a cinnamon brioche from Levain on that walk & didn't find Zukofsky's "A" at Mercer Street books. It is hard these days for anything to be spontaneous & I am grateful for that walk. 

So much going on, my head is in a whirl. Which reminds me of the brilliant St. Louis newspaper, The Evening Whirl, which I subscribed to for a time. It had columns like "Wife Beaters & Sweetheart Mistreaters," which were in verse. 

 

See? I can't settle down & talk about one thing. The impeachment? Oh god. The weather? A 133-car pileup in Fort Worth, TX, which isn't used to snow or arctic air. One of the last people outside of my family/high school friends that I can think of who knew my dad just died—that lovely man, Howard Paulson (whose father's name was also Hans). I got the first vaccine—happy as can be but boy does my arm hurt. I read a not-very-good novel on a subject that interests me greatly, the 1888 children's blizzard that killed hundreds of people in my part of Dakota Territory. 

 

I miss hanging out. 

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