Weary. Busy with work. A pileup of women who are waiting for labor. Lynn and I will be busy soon, running here and there, catching babies. In a writing class in Duvall, a hellava drive from here on Sunday afternoon. Constant low level worry about money, about the dog who needs attention, what do I do with the dog when I'm gone for hours, days at a time. My trusty dog sitter Randy to the rescue.
Clark gave me a CD of his singing, piano and his sweet voice so full of ache and melancholy. I listened to him driving to work, wiping tears away as I walked into clinic. His rendition of Joni Michell's River so low and sorrowful.
Watching old Colombo episodes. That man has stains and wrinkles on his iconic raincoat. And a half smoked cigar. And a terrible old car. He was always busting the uber rich in their fancy houses with pools and hot tubs and red corvettes. O if it only were that easy