I'm almost finished with Pagan Resurrection, and a used book on Svante Arrhenius arrived in today in the mail, and... and... and this project is barely an embryo when, in my estimation, it ought already to be a vigorous youth, bright with the promise of a prodigious maturity.  But there's so much to do, so much to know, so little time, and so, so many tantalizing excuses.

Today I described the Scandinvaian 78 on another hike, to another female friend, along another shore, but this time with different bad weather.   It rained so hard that we almost might as well have jumped into Lake Washington.  The wind, again, was intense.  We did not talk so much Vikings, however, as physics, conversational dynamics, Jung, and architecture; I'm looking forward to her view, when she acquires one, of Arne Jacobson. 

To read: "Wotan"  (1936)  Carl Jung