a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of

July 24: littoral

I don't need much: just a job that earns enough to pay the bills, books to fill my time when I'm not working, and a littoral place to call home.

July 25: forte

What is my forte? I am the best at remaining absolutely quiet until there is something worth saying.

 

    Milestone: this is the 2100th post on ye olde blog. It barely seems possible, thinking about it now, that I could have that much to say - or that y'all could have that much patience to read. Thank you for coming back. I will keep trying to earn it.
     In the interest, then, of quality (rather than mere quantity), I'm checking out for a few days. My sibling is having a party and I'm going to see if he goes through with it. There are all sorts of associated nightmares and dreamscapes attached, so prepare yourselves for stories when I settle back into this chair. There is always the possibility that I will have some time on my hands and will post on the fly, but I wouldn't count on it.
     Before I go: two photos that sum it up nicely.

[the title quotation is by Katherine Mansfield, and reads in its entirety: "The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind."]