Saturday

A lovely reader from far away writes that she has a problem opening Ocean. And then another writes  and now it's not even breakfast time and I have four people and they have one thing in common: they all use Internet Explorer and they can't read the most recent Ocean posts. So this is the puzzle: Why is Ocean corrupt for them?

Five hours (yes, that long) later, Ed and I locate the issue. I would have felt better if I could have blamed Blogger or Internet Explorer, but really, the problem was me and the way I write my posts (in Word, then I snatch and drag them over to Blogger). It’s much much funner to blame someone else.

But, here’s the good thing. Though I’m still eating meals alone...

...and Ed is still wrapped in a quilt down here on the couch, nonetheless he’s not burning and he’s lucid, lucid enough to work with me on my blogger problem.

And sweet enough not to give it a second thought.

So you take this guy in his rich and varied colors – not much into seeking help from anxious traveling companions or the medics, not much into weddings either, but here, stubbornly functioning under his own set of imperatives and yet... would you deny it? I will not: he is such a good soul.

I go to yoga late in the afternoon – the class with the fast paced instructor who nonetheless lets us pause at the end to think about the people in our lives. And I do.

I do.