I will write today and I will be happy for it...

The wind was wickedly gusty when we left the house this morning to drive to Bob Evans for breakfast. A continuation of the overnight angry storm. It has quited a bit now to a plesant breese that moves the tree branches in little flutters and not the swaying prwer struggle between tree and the raw power of nature.

This weekend has been somewhat depressing in that I'm starting the second week with little change in the facial paralysis. I know it can take weeks and sometimes up to three months for the return to normal, it just gets difficult to put that into perspective when you get up each day and see no chsnge. It sort of challenges your ability to believe normal will ever look like it once did.

Working on some new poetry today. I'm planning to write a hour without distraction. I'll see after that.

The sound of the mandolin is a very curious sound because it's cheerful and
melancholy at the same time, and I think it comes from that shadow string, the
double strings. ~Rita Dove