I get confused. Woody Allen wrote a book called Without Feathers, which I guess means hopeless. And Emily Dickenson wrote that hope is that thing with feathers.

Hope is an illusion, so Without Feathers it is. I enjoyed reading Woody Allen’s book; I was then in high school and so it complemented my sophomoric sensibilities. I won’t reread it. Too much literary slapstick for my tastes. I grew up but Woody Allen did not.

I enjoy Emily Dickenson’s poems. I didn’t understand them when I was younger – Emily Dickenson was a grown up and I am heading in that direction.

Ed Alys and Pete Paddle in Glacier Bay

Being a grown up isn’t much fun. I realized that I was heading down that road when I was a senior in high school. I didn’t have to be accountable to parents because they didn’t have the energy or the single-mindedness to deal with me. But the rubber really hit the road my first semester of college, for I was then on my own.

Back to hope. I do now and then say, “I hope. . .” but then catch myself.

Looking forward to things, this is a form of hope. And dreading certain things, this is a form of hopelessness. See? I have it all figured out.

If I were to choose a religion, I’d become a Buddhist. I like their focus on cognition and living for the moment. The problem is that it would take years and years of study before I was able to plumb the depths, and I do not have the time or patience.

I’d also like to learn Latin and also to play the ukelele.

My days are not my own these days. They are under the guise of the book project. Today I went in early, thinking that I would call some villages about taking books. I saw some things that needed doing – one thing just led to another and another, and another. Then it was time for me to go swimming.

Well, swimming is something that I now do that is for my own benefit. I have a routine – I go back and forth, doing laps now for half an hour. Then I get out and get in the hot tub. Okay, so I do look forward to this part of my day. The problem is that the water is such that after just a few minutes I begin feeling cold and have to get out.

Sometimes there are people in the hot tub and sometimes not. Today I had it all to myself until this very, very large woman decided to join me. My goodness. She said hello and I said hello, and as she got in I got out. She asked me if the water was too hot. I found myself wondering if really heavy people find the water to be hot; this as opposed to lighter people finding the water to be cool. I don’t know where I’d begin to find an answer to this question.

Next: 304. 11/8/24: A darn good day