It's been a long cold month, today being the warmest day, I think, since last October. The back-water of the river continues to lap at the road near flood stage, which is sort of the norm this time of year, though the Sunday paper reminded us that last year at this time (2 weeks before the 100-year flood) we were several feet below what we are now. I've been nursing a bad cold which hasn't helped my spirits much, but every day that I write another 1000 words or thereabouts, I'm that much closer to finishing the 1st draft of my next book. John has been writing as well, or more accurately, arranging. Recently an acquaintance asked if he would arrange some music for a small brass ensemble, using arrangements he had previously done for a much larger ensemble. He was excited to do it, got it all done, and then lost his work. What a bummer! Yesterday after he went to church (while I was home with my cough), he drove to the Gardens, hoping he might have left the music there. Nothing. So on his way home, he stopped by the recycling complex to do some dumpster diving, since he'd dropped stuff off late in the week. Turns out they were locked up on Sunday. So he slithered under an iron gate, no more than 12 inches from the pavement----ended up finding nothing. We looked some more around the house when he returned, and then I suggested he go into deep, deep meditation---way deep---to try to come up with the last moment he had his hands on his music. He did, and that led him to his file drawer and a folder for our taxes. Good news. So, it's not been such a bad month after all.
