A Luminous Halo

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end." --Virginia Woolf

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Location: Springfield, Massachusetts, United States

Smith ’69, Purdue ’75. Anarchist; agnostic. Writer. Steward of the Pascal Emory house, an 1871 Second-Empire Victorian; of Sylvie, a 1974 Mercedes-Benz 450SL; and of Taz, a purebred Cockador who sets the standard for her breed. Happy enough for the present in Massachusetts, but always looking East.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Diary April 10, 1960: Books Are My Refuge on a Noisy Palm Sunday

[click to enlarge]

"Dear Diary--

I finished several books, I hardly know where I stand. I wore my new shoes today, they're so pretty.

My cousins were here, I had to go up here, in the bedroom, and read, they were making so much noise.

I'm thinking up a story, about Kathy, Gilda, and I; and a poem about a Kitten. But the poem only has four lines, so far, and the story's just being thought up.

I was kind of hoping Lyndon would be here, but he wasn't. And Mom say's she doesn't know when John & David are coming."

The "noisy cousins" were my maternal cousins, who lived nearby and who were around all the time. John and David were my paternal cousins, whom I rarely saw and who were therefore exotic and interesting. Lyndon was a neighbor boy my age. He actually lived with his mother in New Hampshire, and only visited his father on weekends. Divorce was something not in my universe, and I think I was in high school before I figured out why he wasn't always around.

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