I set up a record player. Ears got paid in a box of LPs for a moving job. I sifted through, saw Patti Smith and thought 'it's time anyway.' The Girl keeps worrying where Mark's records will go to be safe for the time being. So. The boys are downstairs now playing the soundtracks of my earliest memories. The LPs came from a man who died, my dad's age. Ears looks intently at the LP covers. Who is that supposed to be? The 10 of wands, Zep 4. A funeral for a close friend last night, then I got to come home to a full house and hold a baby. I understand so much better now why Woolf called the book "The Waves". Feel happy ft. cry inconsolable.

Speaking of WI. I watch it for landscapes more than not.