Change

And so it begins.  We'll see what I can do.  Here's a snapshot of my deck looking north.  This is where my mother and I had dinner tonight, a pressure-cooked chicken stuffed with onion and garlic and smothered in wine served with jasmine rice and Brussels sprouts and a garden salad.  The evening was nice and the neighbors passing by said hi.  We drank a nice Sav Blanc and then walked to the lake to see the full moon rise, but the horizon was cloudy and so we were left to sit and look over the empty evening water.

I continue to feel especially well and look forward to living in the out of doors world.  Tonight we walked and said hello to the neighbors all of whom seemed to be out.  It is like that here.  I have been too long indoors and must begin to take some air.  It befits me.  It is becoming.

But maybe now that I am showing pictures of the world, I should write more dangerous vignettes.  While showing pictures of people recreating whoredom, I picked up the habit of writing sweeter things to palliate the picture.  The writing has eventually become a longer version of a tweeting teenager:  what I ate, with whom, what the weather was, etc.  Not that weather is bad.  People like the weather or there wouldn't be an entire television channel dedicated to it.  Weather and home are the stuff of life, so they will stay.  Hell, there are cooking channels, too, so I'll have to mention meals.

Maybe change will be more difficult than I imagined.