Partly

Today was the best day in I don't know how long. Spring, she has sprung. 72 yesterday, but gusty, so it felt cooler; 66 today, with light breeze and blue sky, and real warmth. I feel bad for Aimee, who woke up to lake effect snow. Eek. I once dated a girl from Cleveland and the few times we made it up there it was always frigid, snowing. We left Tuscaloosa once, in March, warm already, and drove to Cleveland in one miserable shot because of a death in the family. I could watch the temperature drop with the miles. While there, I got locked inside the church by the priest. It took a while for someone to miss me.

But I was talking about today. I've read, wrote a new poem, restarted Veronica Mars from the beginning: I got about halfway through before getting derailed. So I'm on disc 2. If Buffy were ever to be recast, Kristin Bell is the only actress for the job. The show is, I think, probably the best structured long-form serial ever made. And I've only seen half of it. It's that good.

This afternoon I went for a walk and ended up at the local convenience store. An older man held the door open for me and said, "You wouldn't happen to be any relation to Rip Bohannon, would you?"

"Yes, sir, he's my grandfather."

"I thought that's who you were."

We talked for a few minutes in the very Southern idiom that is not my usual way but that I know, of course, in my bones.

I walked back, sat in the sun, nodding off.