I finished ‘Du côté de chez Swann‘ by Proust. That was my quarantine read. There are 5 more volumes but not yet. I liked it when Swann idealizes Colette through Vermeer portraits. Vermeer portraits are beautiful. Krista Tippet, on the On Being podcast, interviews Stephen Batchelor about ‘Finding Ease in Aloneness’. They talk about Vermeer portraits.

The new album by Fiona Apple reminds me of Frank Zappa. I am no music critic. I just like it. My husband would probably disagree about the ressemblance, he is a big Frank Zappa fan. 24 years ago, when we started dating, he would listen to it all the time. When we lived in Paris, there was a bar in Rue Oberkampf that also played Frank Zappa. We named it ‘El Zappa’. It has probably been gentrified. I started a Tumblr where I put songs I like.

My cat Rasputín has stress. He overgrooms himself. We have hormone diffusers and a cream that he licks from his paws. I thought about giving it to the kids on days where they fight non stop. I haven’t. Yet.

It is 10am Saturday, I am wearing my ugliest pyjama, drinking coffee from a mug painted by my daughter, there is a lonely banana in the fruit bowl. The kids play video games. My neighbor has been cleaning the garden with his kids for an hour. I thought about unfollowing him to avoid the guilt but this is not Instagram. I am going to have a second coffee instead.

Good morning.