Fresh start.... in These titles mean nothing.

Recent New York magazine had a feature on Sober Nightlife - fun without alcohol. In one of its little prose blocks was the following:

How to Dance While Sober (by Tasha Blank, New York DJ)

“You need to focus on how you feel as opposed to how you look. Closing your eyes helps make that shift.
Just think about how the sound enters your ears or how your breath moves in and our of your mouth or how the bottom of your feet feel.
Intentionally placing the thought on a specific body part takes you out of your self-conscious head.”

I’ve never been able to dance. I don’t drink much either. Maybe there’s a connection.

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It’s Friday morning. I’m home. I need to get started. Laundry. Visit Joana. Heck, sweep the floor. The appraiser is coming again this afternoon. I sure hope this is a good idea.

Looks like a beautiful weekend. Jim has mowed the new seeding in front of the house. Made a pretty pattern in the field.

I have no plans.

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I’m reading a fabulous book about WWI. The Middle Parts of Fortune by Frederic Manning. Cover blurb quotes Hemingway, saying he read that book every year so he would not forget what war was like. I’m surprised I’d never heard of the book or the author. He was an Australian who came to England with a preacher. He ended up in the war and he wrote the book, anonymously at first, later claiming it. He was one of WWI poets. It’s about the love men have for each other. It’s about how death comes, how it’s feared, how it’s accepted. There is no religion.

I credit our new young librarian for finding it.