9:30am, October 8, Edsonatra Hotel:
Waiting for Shimeles, but not really waiting. I’ve learned my lesson by now. I’m finishing up this book that mom gave me, Goodbye to a River by one John Graves… Damn thing is strumming my nostalgia like a lute. I love the book, think I’ll recommend it to Hans, seems like it might appeal to him. I wonder what that boy’s up to right now? Working hard, I’m sure. So this book, it’s about a river, and about history; about wisdom and solitude and finding yourself, and finding your land, and how you fit into that land and how it fits into you. It’s about windy November skies and cloudy grey waters and hunting ducks and a little about cowboys and Indians, too. And, it’s a love song, in a way.
Damn I’m homesick. How did I ever survive four months in Europe? Where are my cloudy grey waters, my windy November skies? Where am I?