Was reading today from the book, Insect Fact and Folklore, by Dr. Lucy Clausen, and came across this interesting tidbit: Sound from the flies' wings produces a characteristic hum based upon the rapidity of their wing beat, where the housefly beats 345 strokes a second in the middle octave key of F. I find it remarkable that even nature finds ways to make things like music and art, things we humans like to pound our chests and proclaim as uniquely us.
I had to go downtown today to do some work in the office. It felt a bit odd and strange to be there. Like I was an invader in some land that while familiar was not one that I immediately recognized. Such is life. Time moves on, and you forget people and yourself to some degree, too.
I was doing some Shakespeare reading earlier today, as you might guess by the quote. It's an appropriate one, speaking of the fleeting nature of our little lives and loves. Certainly I feel like I only had an hour to spend with thee . . .
I counted 36 Kia's today and number 33 looked just like yours. I also had a short email from you. Nothing really to respond to, so I won't bother doing so, as I might once have done. Once upon a time when you loved me, that is.
I am looking forward to this weekend and hoping the weather holds together because the next weekend I won't be able to drive myself anywhere and might be in the hospital the entire time. I love you still and miss you more with each passing day