Summer New (Hiroshima) Moon
Cool, man. And with it comes guilt, or, if not exactly guilt, at least a sense of urgency about things left undone because it was just too hot. It’s techno-wimp to blame lackadaisical on the fallen machine, I know, but we did it anyway. Now that the temperature is more congenial that old air-conditioned work ethic has begun to kick in again.
Not a bad thing, really. Some down time is always good, but I’ll take mine without the heat and bad sleeping next time, please.
So, back to translating Ovid, learning about Rembrandt, reimagining faith and working on short stories.
