Note to self

the new pot gets ferociously hot quickly: keep an eye on it.  Managed to burn all the liquid out in time it took me to run downstairs to grab a towel, an onion and a look at the recipe for Egyptian lentil soup.  Next time.  At least I was able to get it clean. (And the lentils themselves didn't actually burn, at least they don't smell. I put them in the fridge to deal with later.)

The fog is dry, it irritates my lungs when I breathe, and I cough.  Reinjured the throat trying to sing last night.  What if it's permanent? Losing the ability to sing is more heartbreaking than losing the full use of my right hand, I can learn to use the left one.  I suppose I could learn to dance.  And if I lost the ability to talk, I suppose I'd learn sign language.  Writing letters is eloquent, but not immediate, and texting lacks the emotion and nuance of spoken language.  I'm being melodramatic, still it doesn't get better, and I am impatient.

Gulls/L.Herlevi

Meanwhile, the fog burns off, rising higher and higher to reveal blue sky, and the seagulls cry out from the rooftops in droves because it's lunchtime.  They are hunger with wings.