A blind mouse still sees their imagination

I’m insanely happy today, listening to “Home” by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic (what’s their name?) The Magnetic Zeros. Over and Over and Over again, this song makes me so damn happy I want to run around like a field mouse. There’s a new bounce to my bottom, a skip in my step. I’ve been whistling along, shaking the twitchwitchwitching from my foot. Things seem right in my world today. Friday we are throwing a party, hoping NOT for rain, because our Brooklyn friend is coming to visit and I hope it will be exactly like my birthday party, but new with openness and drunkenness and friendliness and all sorts of nesses.
I’ve been revising like a fiend. Focused, a new focus. This afternoon, I went to the local college and sat on a garden bench in warm quiet, sinking gently through a poem like wet sand.

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