By Djuna Barnes
Dark, and the wind-blurred pines,
With a glimmer of light between.
Then I, entombed for an hourless night
With the world of things unseen.
Mist, the dust of flowers,
Leagues, heavy with promise of snow,
And a beckoning road 'twixt vale and hill,
With the lure that all must know.
A light, my window’s gleam,
Soft, flaring its squares of red—
I loose the ache of the wilderness
And long for the fire instead.
You too know, old fellow?
Then, lift your head and bark.
It’s just the call of the lonesome place,
The winds and the housing dark.
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My Tuesday was fairly successful! I did not get the laundry folded, but I got to meet Karen for lunch -- she was working from home, so I went there and she drove us to Thai House -- and I discovered that the optician nearest my house takes my insurance, so glasses there cost less than half what they would have cost from my eye doctor's office and not much more than Zenni or Warby Parker, both of which make me nervous in terms of both quality and the fact that I measured my pupillary distance nearly 2mm short.
Adam was out all day at NASA wrapping up his internship and discussing the job with his successor, then trying to sell his furniture to students remaining in College Park (dresser and bookcase are taken care of; I'd buy the bed myself if I had a way to get it here). Paul made excellent faux tuna casserole using chick peas. We saw some of the All-Star Game before and after The 100, which was devastating -- That Character cannot be replaced -- and Blood & Treasure, which was fun. From South Mountain Creamery:
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