Death has never been a comfortable subject for me. I have not accepted my own eventual demise. I wonder what it will take to do so. Having it stare me in the face like this is like being swallowed by a black cloud.
Yet as I finally gave up and got up, forgoing the comfort of the little Stretch, who lay tucked and purry next to me, I thought of other things. Of getting a picture of Stravinsky on the chorale web site. I am going to do that now.