1 PM – up at 7 and put on the coffee. stroll around the garden. it’s a gray day today, lovely. we do some weeding, cut back and tie up the tomatoes again, grab more cucumbers. i cook two eggs for breakfast, one store bought and the other from a friend’s chicken. i had wondered if it was psychological, but no, the friend egg really does taste better. the yolk is thicker and creamier, the store egg is more watery and thin. 

we cut up some cukes and put them in a jar with some green beans for pickles, which we plan to give to my parents tomorrow. we cut down a huge amount of lettuce and i don’t know what we are going to do with it all…

630 PM – a non stop day. more work in the yard, then to the mall to walk around, then to a plant supply and produce store, then to another store to buy more jars. stuff, constant stuff. i’m tired. i just want to read. i water the plants, then i suppose we’ll do more cooking, maybe make some more pickles before i get a chance to rest. but the results are enjoyable!

9 PM – walking around the neighborhood, we befriend another cat. a fluffy black cat who we call diet coke, because she is dark and fizzy, but later call diana because she is a princess. i wonder what the owners of these cats would think of us befriending and feeding and renaming them. 

i grill a burger and a hatch chili for dinner, put the chili on top of the patty, delicious. 

i realize that already the days are slipping away from me. things are not written down, and thus vanish. the orange/red halfmoon i saw last night, like a slice of nectarine in the night, or the book i started reading two days ago, which already i know will completely upend the way i write, or my close (best?) friend J learning that her mother has cancer… what a world it is that keeps flying by, and i can barely remember any of it. 

do you think there is a connection between our unconscious minds? between yours and mine and everyone’s, every stranger, every baby, everyone with an awareness. an underlying undermind, like a web, an underground network of connective unseen wires, like mycelium or roots connecting trees.  i begin to move toward this idea, and i don’t know why. i want to, as they say, believe, belaugh, belove. i want to be connected, even when i want to be alone. 

11 PM – the day is done. could i begin writing again soon? maybe. something is forming, perhaps. for now though i just continue to sit and think while surrounded by all these pages written by other (mostly dead) people. i eat and eat and eat and eat the pages, i eat all the words and fill up, and eventually something will be born. eventually i’ll be too full, and something will have to come out.