Biggest storm ever last night, with rocks tumbling down and balls of fire rolling hillside and flashes in the sky so marvelously earlymorningish
seeing bunches of friends from all over: last night a Canadian journalist, two Czechs from Prague -- an architect and a writer, another Southern writer and Arabisant, and it feels deliciously other, living here, the way New York probably seems so other to them... we've only a few more days here, and are trying to do the most seeing of friends and places we can. thus, tonight, a bunch of friends and children, one Scottish diplomat, one Danish architect, one Irish don from Cambridge and all with offspring I haven't counted -- Boyce made salmon mousse, and they can scatter in our field and disperse and regather --
nope, New York is not like this, no field except Central Park, not the same trees or buzzing cicadas
so warmly neighborly here: lovely friend next door comes over to fix refrigerator door and made more banister for us not to slide down when the gravel gets wet, down our uneven stones, oh, just everything I love so here
tomorrow with Slavic friends to a small restaurant in Venasque, the very old perched village near here, with a 14th century baptistry, and back there with painter friend who refused to return to the US as long as a Bush was there, and is a very grand poet and art person, on and delightfully on...
seeing bunches of friends from all over: last night a Canadian journalist, two Czechs from Prague -- an architect and a writer, another Southern writer and Arabisant, and it feels deliciously other, living here, the way New York probably seems so other to them... we've only a few more days here, and are trying to do the most seeing of friends and places we can. thus, tonight, a bunch of friends and children, one Scottish diplomat, one Danish architect, one Irish don from Cambridge and all with offspring I haven't counted -- Boyce made salmon mousse, and they can scatter in our field and disperse and regather --
nope, New York is not like this, no field except Central Park, not the same trees or buzzing cicadas
so warmly neighborly here: lovely friend next door comes over to fix refrigerator door and made more banister for us not to slide down when the gravel gets wet, down our uneven stones, oh, just everything I love so here
tomorrow with Slavic friends to a small restaurant in Venasque, the very old perched village near here, with a 14th century baptistry, and back there with painter friend who refused to return to the US as long as a Bush was there, and is a very grand poet and art person, on and delightfully on...
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