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Language Log

Monday, Jun. 06, 2016 - 10:17 a.m.

My mind has turned to mending-- mending paper, mending the environment. Last night I dreamed of darning and mending sleep. The boys woke now and then and I wove their sleep back together.

Don't know how far I can go with it. Maybe I won't love it after a spell.

Working on turning my pile of squash vines from last year into paper. They are dry and brittle now, I may have overdone it. We'll see. I am going to try just grinding them with my feet, wine-making style.

Working toward a slow practice. I certainly am slow, I've got that going for me.

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