june 1, 2017 |12:30am 6m | nuts

returned from california last night. san francisco. sea ranch. delayed only three hours as opposed to the five on the way out. i spoke with aaron today who asked what had happened to the blog; why no writing. i told him an array of excuses—a possible book coming up, wanting to collect materials, wanting to write exclusively for it. stuff like that. but then confessed that i tend only to write here when inspired and, well…

so i thought maybe i’d start again. chance-determining the minutes between 1 and 10 within which i can write. try to eliminate or avoid my ‘to be’ verbs. maybe do it just before bed? 

tomorrow an early ultrasound on my abdomen. second or third or fourth or fifth month of my nuts hurting, with no clear answer as to why. the doctor has recommended, of all things, hot baths. astonishingly, it hasn’t done the trick. so tomorrow at 8:30, an ultrasound. 

i like california. adam referred to me out there as a field mouse. ‘you do city-mouse,’ he said, ‘but really you’re a field mouse.’ i have to agree. in fact, my nuts didn’t hurt at sea ranch, by the ocean. the moon. the constellations. the whiskey and wine and beer and sweet incense of marijuana, a strong sensory anchor that sinks me me back to my childhood. vermont. in san francisco they hurt, my nuts. in new york city they do, too. now. but not there. not at sea ranch.