I had a fairly uneventful weekend with BG. My mom and Jim came to collect her last night after their weekend trip (as part of a community service organization)concluded. The unbridled, unquestioning affection of dogs is sometimes heartbreaking. I think it would be addictive to have someone be so happy to see you every time you return.

I took the day off on Friday so that I would not have to abandon her for long periods of time in my apartment. Wanting to be sensitive to any sense of displacement she might have, aside from a hair appointment, I made myself available to sit with her, or just to be around doing chores while she lazed about.

The young coworker I mentioned some entries back lent me Jean Cocteau's 1947 Beauty and the Beast (la Belle et la Bete)--I had it for about two weeks and really needed to make good on my promise to watch it and talk about it with him. We chatted briefly about it this morning, and in the context of this discussion it came out that I am a poet (apparently Cocteau considered himself a poet, not a filmaker). He expressed an interest in seeing some of my work, so I'll bring some in tomorrow. I have been very blessed with several seminal associations with fellow artists. Good creative energy. Nice vibing, etc.

Am finally nearing the end of Northanger Abbey. I got emotionally distracted for a bit--also the book went through a boring, "too descriptive" phase that wearied me. Now that we've come out on the other end of that I am back at home in the narrative. When it's done, I will be on hiatus from JA, and will read Sue Monk Kidd's The Mermaid Chair for the December's book club.

Other points of interest:

Catchka will drive into town early to accompany me to class tomorrow night, then she'll stay over. A little pre-Thanksgiving fun. And the next day it's entirely possible that I'll have to report for Jury Duty. I won't know until after 5 p.m. on Tuesday what my fate will be.