August 27, 2007

Red rose and yellow rose in a vase on my dresser, the roses finding a way to come back from this drought, even the one buried under tomato vines, its gold flowers pushing out beside the green fruits and tendrils.

Jack and Leland took it into their heads to give me a party for my birthday this Saturday. The fact which I keep as secret as I can is how dizzily excited I am about this, like a schoolboy, wondering who will come and what we will do. Will there be cake? Will the people I quarreled with but whom I put nevertheless on the guest list come, and peace be restored all around? I looked at my near-rapture over this last night, considering the simple things which make us joyful, which we did not know we desired, or, if we knew, did not know how to request.