I'll see what day Blog thinks this is. I'm just checking in to see, and also to keep a promise, to fill in some missing information on yesterday's report. It's too late for me now - whatever time it is for you or for me.

Anon, anon. Tune in later, and check my facts yesterday, soon, but not now.....

Hey, it's today and here I am. I checked in last night so the date would be right.

Today I am having a couple of friends for a birthday lunch. Frittata. I like it better than quiche because there's no pastry shell. Have I given this no-recipe recipe in a past blog? Probably. Let me know if you want it. The cooking is no problem but tidying up my papers is. I've spread out drafts and notes for Zam all over the living room and writing space, long since spilled out of the office, which has other works-in-progress that I have to deal with. You'd think I was going to live forever.

Which is beginning to feel like it. Last night I looked for an address of a friend I haven't heard from in a while. She's closer to the end of the alphabet and I never got there this year in my Xmas greetings, whelmed as I was by depression and overload. I found her - no address but an obituary. She died a few years ago, and I never knew. No one told me. I aways seem to be on the periphery of other peoples' lives and deaths. I guess it spares me from attending funerals.

I didn't sleep well. I kept looking for her, and others. You know that kid in the movie (won't name it for fear of spoiling), who sees dead people? Well, I dream of dead people. I have a line in a play of mine, spoken by an old woman (the only character in the play):

"It's getting so I know more people in the cemetery than I do on the street." (Haven't seen you in a dog's age and as dogs age, you have.)

What, if anything, next?

There, you see? It's still today but I just logged in as far as ol' bloggie knows. If I stay under this label tomorrow, will I - or it - be back in sync?

I'm going to bed now. When I check back in - on this page - perhaps it will be January 23.

NOW: It really is, but SquareSpace was playing games with me. I couldn't check in earlier today and wasn't even given a cursor to move, simply had to exit. Just on the chance, I tried it now and lo! here I am, latching on to my intro (above). The trouble is with me now: I am tired. I have been puttering on several different levels: one domestic (laundry, and a bit of cooking - having people for lunch tomorrow); two, still tweaking my WWII screenplay, tweaking plus re-writing.. I must, however, say something thoughtful, because who knows what's going to happen tomorrow?

Well, I haven't reported much about what I've been raeadng lately - not as much reading because of writing more - and also they are very thick books that take more time to read and also must be read at the breakfast table because they are too big to hold in my hands. A QUEER LOVE STORY is the correspondence between Rick Bébout and Jane Rule. They were strangers when it began, when he was the editor of The Body Poli

The Body Politic was a Canadian monthly magazine, which was published from 1971 to 1987. It was one of Canada's first significant gay publications, and played a prominent role in the development of the LGBT community in Canada. (Wikipedia)

It was probably the most influential gay newspaper in North America, and she, probably the best-known lesbian author in North America (and elsewhere as she went on writing) was a regular contributor of a column. They progressed from an editor-writer relationship to a very close friendship, mostly by correspondence. I became a friend of Jane's within the time span of the correspondence. We were both on National Council of the Writers' Union, and kept on being friends because Jane invited me to visit her and Helen (her partner) on Galiano Island (once became many times) or we might have dwindled to mere acquaintances.In the correspondence I loved seeing this other side of her that I didn't know. Over 700 pages the books spans some significant time.

Now I've begun another breakfast table book, a long diary - I have never stopped reading women's diaries. The diarist is Jean/Lucy Pratt. she kept a diary for 60-some years. I'm into it, enough to be annoyed with her. I'll analyse that later. But I have decided I'll stay with her only through World War Two, for the sake of my WWII screenplay, but then I may change my breakfast fare.