Gray socks, gray shirt, ever grayer at the temples, genetics & circumstance conspiring to that end. Put brown under hair color on my passport application, a glance in the mirror refutes it. All clad in gray & brown, muddied & cold, nature turning to death.

Gave Peretz the last of the rice & pumpkin, his GI tract seems back on an even keel, but what the hell, he likes it.

Doing laundry. Thinking about record label business models.

Peretz is lying on the floor, head & forelegs in a sunny spot, smacking his lips. He's a good dog.