Up at 7 feeling just fine

Yawn and stretch . . . big glass of orange juice, a few hits on the pipe. Life feels good.

The visualization of my wonderful friend Tanya as the chemo. I can see Tanya hugging me, then explaining that she has to do something that might hurt or be messy, but it has to be done. She enters my body and beats up every cancer cell with no mercy whatsoever. She calls to me to remind me that she'll have to jump around on my stomach in order to get a good shot at the cancer in my left breast. 'Sorry, but I gotta do it this way, you understand me, right?' (I know there's a different phrase she used all the time, but I just can't remember it.)

Tanya's image comforts me soooo much. I know if she were here she'd be all over me, helping me, doing everything she could do.

On leaving Marin on Thursday I found myself at the precise spot on the Richmond/San Rafael bridge which shows sunset to it's best advantage. The day had been clear, no fog had come crawling in, round wisps of clouds hung in the lower sky to the north of Mt. Tamalpaid. Brilliant copper light from the clouds as the sun was in decline was almost too bright to look at. Every few seconds on the bridge I'd look over my right shoulder and there was evidence of G-d in this world of hours. There's really nothing more beautiful.