I see a grey carpet & I want to paint it green
Yeah, I had an accident painting yesterday. After a melancholy morning, sort of half & half & in-between, Fred came over, & we tried to tape my keyboard. I gave him the old Sharp we had in the basement, & if he can fix it, he can keep it, or else, if he returns it in working order, I can get some mikes & we can add guitar & Fred's singing.
All of this is far more enlightening than Ho or No. Valerie to the contrary. Kimothy Leery's dread.
So about time for the afternoon Trish call, with Fred waiting to see if she needed a ride, she suddenly appeared at the door: Say Bra had given her a ride home.
Then we started some species of DVD, might've been Bowie, I went on the porch to paint, started unpacking my huge bottles of tempera; set them on top of the file cabinet; crash! the green hits the floor & explodes. Trish helped me wipe most of it off the floor, then I took a bath, pre-Car-girl beautification rituals (yeah, I need to replace the green & find some violet/crimson for the mourning sky).
When I cooked supper I waited on the chicken until the rice had cooked, so it turned out a little overdone -- Trish nonetheless cut it in 1/2 to check it.
We watched some kind of comedy on Encore last nite. Parts of it were OK, something about a black street person taking the role of a dentist.
It thundered a little last nite. Trish "got paranoid" that it'd fry Toastie Bear; I had to reassure her it wouldn't.
It's still raining, so Trish will ride the Invisible Taxi to Pizza Hut today. I have to see Car-girl, & I also have an appointment with Joe this morning, so my day will be full. At least I won't be writing for awhile. It's not the quality of the material -- though SF publishers violate Murrin's & Veeder's criteria (paucity of metaphysics & ambiguity) -- it's that I don't want to begin a project & have to quit 1/2-way thru it for VACATION!
Yes, a week from tomorrow we'll be flying down to Elko to experience fear & loathing, not to mention Next. It better be close to the original Dick, at least in spirit, or I'll go watch A Scanner Darkly instead.
All of this is far more enlightening than Ho or No. Valerie to the contrary. Kimothy Leery's dread.
So about time for the afternoon Trish call, with Fred waiting to see if she needed a ride, she suddenly appeared at the door: Say Bra had given her a ride home.
Then we started some species of DVD, might've been Bowie, I went on the porch to paint, started unpacking my huge bottles of tempera; set them on top of the file cabinet; crash! the green hits the floor & explodes. Trish helped me wipe most of it off the floor, then I took a bath, pre-Car-girl beautification rituals (yeah, I need to replace the green & find some violet/crimson for the mourning sky).
When I cooked supper I waited on the chicken until the rice had cooked, so it turned out a little overdone -- Trish nonetheless cut it in 1/2 to check it.
We watched some kind of comedy on Encore last nite. Parts of it were OK, something about a black street person taking the role of a dentist.
It thundered a little last nite. Trish "got paranoid" that it'd fry Toastie Bear; I had to reassure her it wouldn't.
It's still raining, so Trish will ride the Invisible Taxi to Pizza Hut today. I have to see Car-girl, & I also have an appointment with Joe this morning, so my day will be full. At least I won't be writing for awhile. It's not the quality of the material -- though SF publishers violate Murrin's & Veeder's criteria (paucity of metaphysics & ambiguity) -- it's that I don't want to begin a project & have to quit 1/2-way thru it for VACATION!
Yes, a week from tomorrow we'll be flying down to Elko to experience fear & loathing, not to mention Next. It better be close to the original Dick, at least in spirit, or I'll go watch A Scanner Darkly instead.
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