mrissa | "I'm singing for the love of it; have mercy on the man who sings to be adored."

Josh Ritter in concert is good. Good recording artists don't always mean good performing artists, but Josh Ritter is having an awfully good time on stage, and so are the guys who play with him. I expect that I'll want to get to future shows of his, and

timprov and

elisem seemed to have similar reactions.

In other news yesterday, I remembered when I was walking the dog that I got my first glasses in the fall. I remember what a revelation it was that you could see the individual leaves on trees, that they weren't just a blur of one color with sometimes shading into others. I appreciate that again every fall. I know that sounds all breathy and rose-colored, but it doesn't hurt to remember that some things actually are pretty nice, all things considered.

I've been trying to revise one stupid short story -- all right, it's not stupid, and that's the problem: if it was stupid, I could trunk it and walk away. But anyway, I've been trying to revise this same story for quite awhile, and I've gotten a phrase here and a paragraph there and gone back and redone some of the redone phrases and paragraphs. The time it has been sitting here waiting for me is far out of proportion to its length. (Far. No, really. Farther than that. Very far.) And then yesterday while I was standing looking at a stand of poplars gone yellow and waiting for the dog to finish adequately sniffing a particularly fascinating clump of grass, there was a plot point neatly wrapped and tied with a bow, wholly relevant and fitting the spot where something needed to go, and all of a sudden the story looked un-stupid again. And also the book revisions continue going well, so in general I am very cheerful about revising. Which is most of the writing work I'm doing for the next few days, so good cheer in that area is pretty meaningful in the rest of my life, so...good then. Definitely good.