Here in the Little Rock Double tree, darkness pervades the quiet room. I am trying to be quiet, so as not to wake my sleeping companion. When she wakes, we will see about breakfast, then while away the hours until we walk next door to experience almost three hours, en mask, of a Broadway play, Hamilton. We watched the Broadway version, on the small screen, a few months ago. Today, though, we will witness a live performance. I’ve grown familiar with the music, though I will admit that I have not followed the lyrics very well. Last night, I read a transcript of the entire musical, so I feel even more attuned to the story and the words with which it is told.

This foray into a public venue with large numbers of people is a bit scary. Even though masks are required, we have no way of knowing who among the sea of our fellow patrons have been vaccinated. It’s a risk. At some point, I suppose, one has to let one’s guard down very briefly to maintain a sense of social cohesion. Heretofore, we have mostly stayed away from church—so this is a big deal.


To the world you may be one person, but to one person, you are the world.

~ Unknown ~

Our detour into Little Rock obviously interrupted our work on the new house. But yesterday, the gutters were cleaned and new gutter guards were installed (assuming the job was finished). And that followed Friday’s momentous meeting with the flooring guy, during which we decided to take all the floors down to the subfloor and have new LVP put down. The flooring we selected is beautiful; it is called “Spice Acacia.” The timing depends on availability of the flooring, the installers, and the cooperation of Mother Nature. Tomorrow, I will return to my life’s work of painting the interior walls. I look forward to my freedom. And to a visit from one of my favorite people, assuming she will not shun me because of my exposure to Hamilton fans this weekend. (This public version of a private message is not intended for all audiences.)


If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

~ Haruki Murakami 


Enough with this one-fingered typing. To those I love, may your day unfold as it should.


About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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