3aug23

The garden is basically a dead zone now. I have a few flowering plants, and some living berry plants, but everything else has been smashed, frozen, parched or drowned by the weather. Or eaten by snails and slugs. Or dug up by squirrels or foxes. Autumn and winter will be about planning protection for next year.

Home alone for the next four days or so, and I really need to shake things off and get some stuff done. So I’m setting up for thirteen hours at the keyboard today to see how much of a dent I can put in the list.

I also need to get the newsletter done, and possibly to ask the hosts if anything can be done about the thousands of Hotmail bots who subscribe to it but can’t get through the two-factor authorisation, leaving a zillion “pending” accounts in the system. I’d rather the newsletter was going out to actual people: fuck the “growth” rate.

INBOX: 96
LISTENING: TAMALPAIS (AT ABOUT 6), Tuluum Shimmering
LAST WATCHED: Rewatched half of SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, which remains an elegant adaptation.
SLEEP: 7hrs 57mins. My Fitbit is telling me my sleep debt is such that I need to sleep for nine hours and thirty seven minutes tonight. Fat chance.