August 18, 2010

Heavy rain, then heat, then heavy rain. Planted ferns today, and transplanted a little volunteer spruce tree, so I am glad of the rains.

I’ll need to stop reading the news of the university from e-mail. It’s distressing. You’d think the university would be the one institution that would resist cant and fashion and hold to the Good, but it isn’t. I’ve read the histories of Oxford and Cambridge, though, and they fell for absurd ideas in their long history, they championed the temporary and second rate, so nobody gets singled out. I’m out for a semester, so maybe I should just let everything be and hope the wheel has turned again in four months. A description of the creative writing program implies that it began with Rick. I have vanished from my own history.

The novel is well and truly finished, though tinkering follows, and what revisions I cannot yet know.

I am sleeping too much. I am spending too much time putting off the next enterprise.

Lovely letter from DV, quoting Yeats as though it were the outpourings of his own soul.