glorycloud's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- aren't all fictions forms of emotional autobiography It is in the death flow 8:30 AM Sunday morning. It is a cold gray cloudy sunny day here. This time of year because we have the windows opened most of the time all we hear are birds. The birds are loud till the end of summer. There are a lot of baby birds right now by our bird feeder. I got up this morning around 6:30 AM. I got made a pot of coffee and got oatmeal ready to make when Carol got up to face It. We all got to face It. We can not escape facing It. After making coffee I messed with our main computer. When I heard Carol getting up I got off the internet and made us a small pot of oatmeal for breakfast. After eating my oatmeal I wrote in my paper diary. I cleaned the kitchen after writing in my diary and now I am writing in my online diaries. Existence is flowing towards It. Last night I read till I went to bed a novel titled, "1982, Janine" by Alasdair Gray. I slept poorly last night, so right now I feel wasted. All one can do is keep drift towards It. Carol is going to Covenant PCA this morning. She wants me to grill some meat for lunch this afternoon. Tomorrow we can not grill meat to celebrate the birth of the American Empire Death Machine culture because we will be in Grand Rapids at a used books sale. After the used books sale we will have brunch with our oldest son Caleb and his wife Emily and baby Josephine Joy. Carol works tomorrow night so we have to be home tomorrow by Noon so Carol can take a nap before going to work. I do not know what else to write so I will close to wait to hear about the next Islamic terrorist attack. music: Terra Tenebrosa 'The Reverses' 8:47 a.m. - 2016-07-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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