So much to write and I need to sleep. Sometimes I just mark the place here to remind myself to come back. i've been writing in my mind off and onn all evening, while doing routine things like taking out the trash. Being past sixty is so odd. I really do have a twentieth century mind, still surprised dozens of times a day by the way reality is different from what I remember as a girl - so much if it the technologies and the way they affect thinking. And yet, I feel very much alive now and part of now, like every moment is precious and I get more aware how precious every time another friend gets sick or dies. I want to live well now, make a difference now. And the first step right now is a good night's sleep, but hopefully writing tomorrow.