Steph is teaching a piano lesson right now as I type. She and her student practiced Bach’s "Minuet in G Major," which is a piece I’ve always loved. (Just to show my age, I still think of it as "A Lover’s Concerto," a song recorded by The Toys when I was a preschooler, back when the earth’s surface was cooling.)
With the coming of the vernal equinox, I hope, will return some energy and desire to write. I’ve been taking baby steps back into writing by posting more regularly to this blog, but that’s been about it. I wrote in my diary during my three o’clock break this afternoon, and saw that the previous entry had been a week earlier. Quite a far cry from when Steph claimed I was compulsive about it!
But this comes and goes in cycles, so I know that this, too, shall pass.
While I’m at the peace march Saturday in Washington, I hope to eat at Wok and Roll, a Chinese restaurant on H St., NW that had been Mary Surratt’s boarding house, the meeting place for the conspirators who carried out Lincoln’s assassination. Maybe being there–a landmark in an event has inspired much fiction and non-fiction since 1865–will spur me on.
Melville at the Customs-House 