Wild day. Braces broke last night (unglued bracket), and spent the better part of the morning chasing down the orthodontist. Meanwhile, forged ahead with revisions on an old draft. Surprisingly, or maybe not, discovered how to puzzle the narrative together without cutting the hell out of the story.
Beautiful day. Colder than last fall, but nothing to complain about when the sun's sunny and the skies are blue. Miss the long autumn of last year. Miss fishing. Keep hearing the line, "Swift as a weaver's shuttle fleet our years..." Browning? The Bishop Orders his Tomb at St. Praxed's?" I can't remember anymore. Hesiod's Works and Days, maybe?
Saw my brother standing on his front porch tonight as I was driving down the road. We waved at one another.