It’s working out really well.

It simply worked out today that I was on my own route Shade, even on my day off. And that is barely a morsel at an entire banquet table, with dessert first, I hope.

God really is so good and so kind that when we pledge our hearts first to him, he returns them more full than we might have imagined, and there is plenty to give away. I get giddy, sometimes, thinking about what that means, and how it is working out. Painfully slowly, but still . . .

Today was fairly glorious. Incredible music paired with this weather made for a lot of joy today and when I mix in a miracle then, well, like I said “giddy”.

But I am going to think of another word. Gimme a second . . . oh, “gaga” is fine because I just remembered that Lady Gaga was on the cover of Vogue today. Of course, I delivered it and only glanced at the cover. As far as magazines go, top honor goes to Variety. It is a gorgeous, large, matte-finished cover—what Rolling Stone used to aspire to before they gave up trying.

Only one house on my route gets Variety, two got Lady Gaga today, and only one gets The New Yorker.

And only one went to Burning Man this year.

And I know where they shop, and what else they read, and when they have birthdays and weddings and deaths and what they are cooking for lunch or dinner and who fights and who gets along and how they vote and much of what they believe. I know more, of course, and they probably have no idea.

I can be counted on to keep it secret and sacred . . .

It’s past my bedtime.

As John said thirty minutes ago, “Sweet dreams.”

Photograph “Synecdoche” ©2018 Timothy Waugh