There was an awful accident just down our road today; an 18-wheeler went out of control and tore down a lot of power lines; our power went out at 1: 50 and was still out when I got home from the Cardiologists’s (an excellent report, I’ll write about it in the morning.)

The Lights came back out around dinner time. It was a miracle that the power company got the power back, given the mess the accident caused.

Ian McRae came over for dinner, and we had a two-hour fight about how to be a writer. It ended well, with a big hug outside. Ian has a new look, as often happens when he shows up.

There was the country shearer look, the Buddha look, the steelworker look, and today he looked like he stepped out of a  70’s movie about the Mob. I think I had the same look.

Ian likes the tough guy Jack Kerouac look. He brought over a short story for me to read and left it for Maria to read as well. It has some beautiful writing, but we will fight over the structure.

Ian is increasingly talking about being a writer, not just a poet. He has a natural gift for writing, but his life pulls him in many directions. He has a lot of decisions to make, and they are his to make. I’m there to support whatever he chooses to do.

I value this friendship; writing is not easy these days, and we are always kicking some ideas around. I told him I loved the new look. He’s started smoking again, but that is not my business.

Ian and I are good friends, but we have a complex relationship. We have some knockout fights. But we always send up even closer friends. Maria is gentler than I am.