Sawing and Singing

I didn’t turn on the computer this morning until seven-thirty, after I’d been up for three and a half hours. I exercised, I ran, I sipped my six-ounce cup of pour-over coffee; I ate breakfast; I sat, not thinking or doing anything at all. I took a shower, dried myself, and rubbed some olive oil on my heels. Only then, after making a cup of chamomile tea, did I open the laptop and press the power button.

Read Bees and Their Keepers, by Lotte Möller, Pages 97-108. For the month of June: A Swarm that Caused Problems Remembered and Accounts of Rows between Neighbours and How People Dealt with Swarms in the Past.

From The Oxford Book of Aphorisms, Page 285:

There can hardly be a stranger commodity in the world than books. Printed by people who don’t understand them; sold by people who don’t understand them; bound, criticized and read by people who don’t understand them; and now even written by people who don’t understand them. —Lichtenberg, Aphorisms, 1764-99.

Afternoon. Walked past the woodcutter’s house. He was sawing and singing and gave us a smile and wave.

November 8, 2023.

[ 1922 ]