My main useful thing this morning was getting the kitchen cleaned. Later — in between thinking the thoughts I wrote about earlier — I made progress on a poem, an unusual case for me where I'm mostly writing the poem backwards, and took my car for a quick trip around the block, plus I finished Brian Jay Jones's 2013 biography of Jim Henson. I am now even happier for, and honestly rather jealous of, anyone who actually got to know Henson. (Plus now I know that in the late Eighties, when Henson needed a director for a TV project, he almost hired Sam Raimi. Huh.)
I'm warm, comfortable, lying down, digesting a good basic dinner and a beer, and appreciating what I can appreciate.