so it's Festival week

And they're off.  Most of 'em.  Most of 'em who are dear to me, that is, seem to go at the git-go, and are by now either in line at the gate or purt near.

Their absence and my near-going and Tracy's being out this week align with other psychical factoroids like so many planets in a system of inkling indications lining up as if to say "Take it easy."  And take it easy I shall, regardless, well okay with some regard, there-regarding.

Rec'd my first postcard in the poetry thing; it became, per instructions, my stepping-off point for the next one I send, going out today to Manchester England England.  It was from one Celeste, in the town of my birth.  That was cool.

The new international postcard stamp is round.

(click for bigger)