Insomniac
By Maya Angelou
There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.
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I got to spend a lot of Tuesday with Cheryl, who came up for lunch (Cava) and movies (Everything Everywhere All At Once and, of course, The King's Speech). I had a whole bunch of stuff to give her, both personal fannish things and things for the charity auction at Misti-con next month, plus we took a trip out for ice cream.
Otherwise my entire day was frantic packing, with a brief break to say hello to my Voyager group in the evening (I didn't even watch the episode)! Here are photos from the canal with younger son last week, when bluebells, phlox, daffodils, and redbuds were all in bloom while cardinals and finches played in the branches:
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