Rain

I will not complain. Rain. The river is running much as it did when I arrived here, 40 years ago when the river was navigable and the garden seldom needed watering. We have taken to tubing; grand-daughter all by herself on a yellow ring. I have beaucoup sugar snap peas and I eat them at least for two meals. While the west roasts in record high temperatures, it is cool here in the mornings, cool enough for a quilt at night. I can not complain. Though the clothes on the line appear weary.

WE ARE IN REHEARSAL AGAIN: LOOSE THREADS in performance the 2nd and 3rd weekends in July in the black bog theatre at VA Tech. Susan is coming out today so that we can read over the script together. The space of this theatre confronts me with a panic push into NOW where I can still fumble lines, struggling with the sheer emotional surges the poems urge in present time. It is wonderful, frightening and illuminating.