Hello, it is Beckett Graham with a little message.

Poor Maya Angelou.

What do I mean?

Let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, a few weeks ago, every single local member of my family had been vaccinated.

And we decided it would be okay to have those only vaccinated people over for brunch.

Now I don't know about you, but the bulk of our cleaning happens before guests come over

and after a year of not having looked in the corners of any room in this house, we looked

around and were sort of devastated at this giant hill of work out of us.

But having people that we love come over for orange juice and egg casserole was more important

than anything else.

And so we did some kind of blitz scenario where a lot of things in the house got shifted

to alternate locations.

You know the drill.

Pre-thanksgiving kind of cleaning.

But imagine nothing's been done in a year.

You know the horror.

So in that process, all of my notes for Maya Angelou, I can only assume got thrown away.

I cannot find them.

No one can find them.

And so I have spent the time, since that fateful day, trying to reconstruct all of my notes

for part two from little pieces of paper and turned down pages in all of these books.

...