It’s “strolling” along country roads, not walking. Sorry about that. I’m on Neil Sedaka today, shoot me.

A sequel, Triggertreat asks. And I’m so glad that he did. There are two. One is sketched out, one’s still a thought. Crane Flies has a beautiful happy ending that I’ve had to choke down. It’s a love letter to marriage. There are domestic terrors, yes, but Howard and Ellen survive them in the most beautiful and romantic way, as I think people should when they’re married, I believe in it, marriage. Divorce, I think poorly of. I think it’s weak.

Still, I’m one of them. Real-life stories are sometimes not as romantic and happy. And so the sequel, the one sketched out, the one I’ll probably finish in a day, is not sweet at all. There’s a seedy Craigslist story in it. A seedy girl, I might call her Racquel. There is brutal and heartless deception, there’s destruction; there is, of course, murder. And oh, yes, castration.

I promise you, too, it will be funny.

You asked. About the sequel. It goes something like that.

I am supposed to be playing with grapes right now, that was the plan. Champagne with my breakfast and then grapes. But I’m at the end of this thing, this book, and it’s due to ship today. Well, it’s done today, anyway. The shipping is all just for show. Today is the last read-through, the last one, and so I forewent the grapes. T. and C. are sweet so I’ll dedicate the whole thing to them; they didn’t get mad.

I’ve forgone other responsibilities, too, not just grapes. The carpet, for instance. I called and no one called back and so I need to call back, but I haven’t, I’m reading a book. I’m reading out loud, it went much slower yesterday. Today it’s going fast, it’s fun to read. I’m almost done.

The paint, then, is done it looks lovely. As do the new walls. The carpet, though, isn’t done.

But I am done.

Really this time.

(Seriously, almost done, come by.)

Last night I went to Thistle, it’s a restaurant. I went with J. and now J. is in Medford, he flew on a plane. Thistle is new, it’s on Evans Street and J. had black cod and I had beets. We had a wonderful white wine, too, it was local. I loved it (but not like T.’s wines) and I don’t remember now what it was. Thistle is in Food and Wine this month, they’re also in Mix and the tables are sweet and cozy. J. is in Medford.

(And really. Today I’ll be done.)

I miss the grapes, it was necessary though.

Done, today I’ll be done.