Lughnasa Waning Harvest Moon
The second night with no Rigel. I took fliers to filling stations, veterinary offices, grocery stores and the local humane society. Tomorrow I plan to distribute a few more at baseball fields, the town rec center, those sorts of places. After that, we call back to various places and wait.
The driveway has a nice fresh black coat on it; we have a woodland edge to balance our orchard and few trees planted out in the prairie grass. My neighbor (not the suicidal one) came over and noted we’d planted a couple of hawthorns on his property. He said he didn’t care and I said I didn’t either. They’ll have the same affect there and at that point the properties run into each other on an open field.
Kate’s home. She looks better, but still ragged. We see the surgeon on Thursday morning. Could be some big changes here after that.
The second in my series: Liberalism in Our Time has gotten hold of me, it’s now the filter through which I read articles, think about politics and our common life. I just learned about a guy named Herbert Crowley today. He was the architect (and an architect) of what some call the welfare state. His thought has some interesting resonance for me, since I’m struggling in this series with my radical critique of liberal thought. When I get to the Future of Liberalism, I’m going to have come down somewhere on that question, which I’ve sort of neatly side-stepped so far.
