Another "where did the day go?" day. Started at the keyboard, then orbited out into errands and one long, nearly interminable meeting. Meanwhile the weather went to hell. Looking at tin-colored skies and a brisk breeze on the side. Not sure when the sun's due again, but hope it's before the weekend.
Picked up a couple of used books while galavanting around. Kittredge's The Willow Field, A.B. Guthrie's Murders at Moon Dance, The Complete Stories of Truman Capote, and a slick "new" Barnes & Noble Collected Stories of Eudora Welty. The Bookman may be the last, best, most magnificent used book store in town. Found a cloth cover edition of E. Hemingway's Death in the Afternoon there a few years back, if you need proof.
A lot on the brain at the moment. Can't seem to sort through it all. Worse, I'm beginning to not give a rat's ass.