7/1/93 - Thurs.
Derek's in a mood yet again. I wish he'd give it and himself a rest. When he's in a mood, the whole House is in a mood --- not just its inhabitants, but the very bricks and mortar of the place. It's as if the houseplants quiver when he stalks by. I haven't see the cat in days. As for myself, I just have to avoid him --- the energies that emanate from that man at times like these give me a raging headache. I wonder what he picks up off of me on "bad hair" days.
It all has something to do with our house guest who'll be arriving on Tuesday --- Nick Boyle. Derek called a quick meeeting to make the announcement before he caught his flight to Albuquerque. No details --- just that Mr. Boyle was in having some legal troubles in LA and would be staying while he got his life sorted out. Though he didn't say, my guess is that this is Maj. Boyle's son. Derek's never said much about the major or any other past member of this House. I think they were close, but you'd never be able to tell it by our precept. It's just something I sense from him whenever the name has come up.
I can't tell if he's excited and wants Mr. Boyle here or if he's anxious and in this mood because he'll be here. It's odd --- you'd think it would be easy to read another person with "Sight" as strong as Derek's, but, somehow, he throws up a wall of static whenever he chooses.
I'd have liked to have gone with him to New Mexico. Maybe I could have helped. I worry about him when he goes off alone like this. It's silly --- he's a big boy, but I still worry. He hasn't been very forthcoming lately --- about anything. Under the circumstances, it's better that I didn't suggest it. I'd have probably had my head snapped off or, if I had gone, I'd have been begging for a parachute somewhere over Nevada.
Oh, well. London House has just dumped a bucketful of slop in my lap. It looks like I'll be busy until Xmas sorting through a cross-analysis of ghostly sightings and high activity sunspot episodes during the past 20 years. Why me, Lord?
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