It’s one of those days, surrounded by citysidewalk and highway roar, also roadrage, that I want to live in a well.  This after moving into a second-storey apartment, and consequently living in the trees.

Today, maybe the woolly aphids infesting all the hackberry trees are dead.  Maybe they froze last night, and I can wash and squeegee my windshield and all my windows (they drop sticky honeydew and it traps dust and all else on all surfaces forever in the summer).

After the first twelve things I tried to do today failed, I came home.  I had a sandwich, clicked around on the internet, and am now wondering whether to go to bed, or to Mars.  I can’t go to Mars.  I think if I lie under the skylight something good will fall on me, the wisdom I need can settle on me, I will be still enough.