Where Have I Been?

For some reason or other, I have skipped journalling for several weeks. And I'm not sure how that happened. I've even neglected to read any journals.

Sunday evening, I went to an Integrity party. Integrity is one of those Episcopal functions that I used to attend religiously. (Groan! Sorry!) But have neglected for several years. Food, camaraderie, church gossip! Of course, fate conspired to prevent me from attending, and I was an hour late.

Household chores can be such a drag. Did not do the laundry over the weekend, so as soon as I got home Monday, I filled the hampers and lurched off to the laundry. Assumed that because it was Monday, there would be no one there. WRONG! Threw stuff into four washers, read "Rolling Stone," pulled out stuff and slung into dryers, read "Rolling Stone," yanked stuff out, folded, hurdled damp socks and towels back into dryer, read "Rolling Stone," scooped up remainder and stuffed into hampers and fled.

As I sit tapping at keys, I'm watching the semi-climatic, quasi conclusion of "Buffy." Angel lies dying and can only be cured by the blood of a slayer. More to come next week in the last episode of the season.

Three of the cats, Minerva, Athena and Hermes are perched on the back of the couch asleep. I've never figured out why they chose this spot. One guess is that they like the radiant heat from the floorlamp behind the couch.

Have listened again to the soundtrack for "Gattica." Compelling, somber, elegiac. When I listened several weeks ago, I was flooded with sensations from years ago. Not so much memories but feelings associated with past events. The impact was so overwhelming that I hesitated to listen again for a while. I did play it late one night last week, and it was even more cathartic than before.

Enough for a night back at the keys. Why "keys," I wonder? A similarity to piano keys? Maybe because the original prongs in a 19th century typewriter resembled door keys. Odd that I've never come across anything about that.

PAX!