And while I"m at it, let's say thank you for sight. Last years my cataract lenses got cloudy and I had trouble seeing anything. I had them laser-scraped and I can see again because what would I do at this stage of my life? I still read to live, and live to read, for that matter. Is anyone reading this (is anyone reading this?) old enough to remember The Twilight Zone? One episode involved a near-sighted man who was very fond of solitude and reading. He worked in a busy bank surrounded by people all day and he could never seem to get enough time to himself. He took to hiding out in the vault to read on his lunch hour. So one day a bomb destroyed the city and he was the only one left alive because the thick walls of the vault protected him. (Never mind about fallout and stuff; we didn't know much then.) Anyway, he was delighted because now he could read to his heart's and eyes content. But then he tripped over some rubble, fell and his glasses flew off his nose and shattered (that was before plastic lenses, too, I guess). So there he was, all the time in the world and no interruptions and he couldn't see to read. Is that nemesis or what? Now that I've told the story and see the flows I wonder why I bothered. But it has been a cautionary tale to me. Be careful what you wish for? Yes, and also be grateful for what you have. Now, what I need is Vision.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life, or of the rest of this year and the next, anyway, whichever comes first. I have a grant to go and live in a writer's retreat for the month of October, to hunker down and write a new book. You don't do it just like that, although it depends what kind of book, I guess. Anyway, this one will take, has taken, preparation, and time, time, especially; it's about age and that takes time. Aging is all about time. I have been keeping a file for at least five years comprising clippings and ideas and comments, notes to myself, references to resources, lists - oh, my - lists! Now, before I go and start writing, I must read through the file, absorbing and culling and sorting and arranging. I can't take the whole thing with me as it's far too heavy and unwieldy, and I have to thin it. Not simple. More than that, I must sort it out, break it down into folders - chapters, I guess. I need an outline, an agenda, a map, and the equivalent of recipe file cards on my computer. For other books, I have used the floor as a horizontal filing cabinet, with chapters and notes spread out across it so that, eventually, walking across the floor was like tiptoeing through a maze. This time I have to move the maze into my Little Mac so I can carry it with me. So, you see, today really is the next day of a very large chunk of time. Maybe I'll lose weight.