Why did I once have a framed page from Gleason’s Pictorial? It was snatched at the garage sale today by someone who wanted to give it to a friend whose last name was Gleason.
Why did virtually everyone at the sale examine the plaster heads of Polish kings, decorative and very fanciful, not a little weird, inherited from my family?
Why did people come at 6:45 to a garage sale that officially began at 7? (S & S bailed me out yet again by showing up in time to let them in.)
Why is it so damn hot today? Why don’t I remember people’s names? Why was this past year so turbulent? Why is the house still not empty of garbage? Why do people say and do the things they say and do and not say and do other things?
A calm day, a pensive day, a Saturday... with several terrific daytime lattes and evening even-more-pensiveness-inducing beverages. More later, I'm late.
Why am I always late these days?