Gray, cool, damp. But heat is forecast for midweek, though daily it gets less extreme, first 3 days in the 90s, now 1, by midweek maybe it'll be gray, cool, damp.
A strange night, my head full of banjo visualizations or musical phrases for a chamber opera.
Couldn't ask for a more exciting day of footbol than yesterday, Netherlands coming from behind, then Ghana tragically blowing it. We'll see what today offers.
A leisurely day, I expect, with two soccer games to pay attention to. Practice banjo, read. Likely won't be back into full project gear until Monday.
The blues festival is on but I haven't paid attention to it for years. Got too big for me. In its first years, though, I really enjoyed it. One year I heard it from the river, cruising around on my raft amongst the fancy boats. That's when I had a small studio apartment downtown and the raft, always inflated through the summer, took up most of the room. I'd carry it on my head in the afternoon through the busy city to the Hawthorne Bridge marina, put it in the water, and row to Ross Island. Ah, the life of the eccentric writer. I was relatively poor, living on grants, but I felt like a king.
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