trying

i worked from 5a.m. to 9:30 when son John and cleaner Roderick came. John brought new cleaning supplies and left. Roderick stayed to work. I worked, too.

It was a new cache of files, clippings, writing, reviews—-on and on—and I had just gone through it —sorted things out into messy piles on my sofa when the guys came. To tidy it would have taken as long as to “finish” , ao I kept the mounds on the sofa and carried on. I was through before Roderick got to the living room. Now I have lots of letters to write, people to contact, blogs to consider…but It’s another obstacle surmounted? Not quite. There’s always more work to do. But also discoveries to make.

I am finally in a throw-away mood and finally recognizing the fact that I cannot go on studying new people— writers whose names I cannot spell without some help, and who are expressing emotions I have already dealt with. So I will go on—or back?—and I won’t burden the archives with my discoveries, not until I have something to show for my efforts. Now I have to decide what efforts I will make.

It’s late afternoon by now. I will go swimming and prepare for a friend who is bringing me dinner to celebrate my upcoming birthday.

Anon.