September 24: Swaddling Him, Too Tired, Tomas Transtromer, "From March '79," Adventures of Stickman

It was in fact a blessing.  An ability to sleep more easily and deeply had come to him during the past few years.  where he used to toss and turn and drive his wife crazy at night, no sooner would he now lay his head upon the pillow than he would fall asleep.  But not into that sleep of old age, but into the sleep of a child, an infinitude of possibilities swaddling him.

Yes, I've used this passage about sleep before, probably when I was really tired.  Like Ives, all I need to do is lay my head upon the pillow, and I'm gone.  Thursdays are not good for me.  Most of the week, I get about five hours of sleep a night, if I'm lucky.  This week, I wasn't lucky.  I've been averaging a little over four hours per night.

My book club met tonight.  We read Harper Lee's Go Set a Watchman.  My take on the book:  it's a good first draft.

I don't have much more to add tonight.  Too tired.  Ready for bed.

Saint Marty doesn't even have enough energy for complete sentences.

From March '79

by:  Tomas Transtromer

Tired of all who come with words, words but no language
I went to the snow-covered island.
The wild does not have words.
The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions!
I come across the marks of roe-deer's hooves in the snow.
Language but no words.

Adventures of STICKMAN