May 1, 2013

Before noon yesterday I had photographed the new flowers of the garden, set a tiny garden up that might twine up DJ’s deck, prepared and mailed manuscripts whose deadline was April 30, done an hour of step aerobics at the Y, chatted with Tom at Starbuck’s, filled in the trench under our cars in the access road (shoveling in rocks the plumbers dug up and vegetable debris that my neighbors leave, inexplicably, against my fence), and I wasn’t even especially tired. Sore now, but that is well. Auditioned at Montford Park in the evening, and saw many faces I’d missed and was glad to see again, but that enterprise felt, finally, almost mystically wrong. I don’t think the gods want me going that way just now.