April 5th, 2016

The Red Tree

Postcards from Apricember and Apriuary

Yesterday morning, when I made my entry here, there was a shitty little scum of snow on the ground. But it kept snowing, and it kept snowing all damn day until just after dark. Before it was over, we had five or six inches. In fucking April. This will do nothing good for farmers, and likely our spring greening has been pushed back weeks. I sat here, unable to think, playing loud music loudly, trying to drown out the muffled, smothering silence that comes with snow, the excruciating stillness. I spent most of the day and night in an opiate haze, which just barely made it all bearable.

"The pain must feel like snow." ~ David Bowie

Currently, it's 28˚F, but the windchill has us at 18˚F. I think last night's low with windchill was 7˚F. The sky out there will blind you, then eat you alive.

In April.

From last night:

But at least we don't have to worry about finding a new place to live anytime soon. The house has sold to someone who's not raising our rent, so at least there's that. It's a bittersweet relief, since I don't want to be in Rhode Island, and that certainly includes this house.

Sanders will likely carry the day in Wisconsin, but not by a spectacular margin, and with Clinton's forthcoming New York win, it's too little, too late. With superdelegates, Hilary Clinton is now a mere 330 delegates from the win.

There's really not much else worth saying about yesterday. Late, I watched Gregory Peck in Robert Parrish's The Purple Plain (1954), based on H.E. Bates' novel of the same name.

Aunt Beast