February 22, 2019


Millay’s birthday.

I requested Reems Creek Nursery to get me a mulberry tree in March of last year. The phone call came yesterday. I picked it up in the driving rain. I have one, but this one seems destined for me. I want the rain to slacken no I can begin playing in the dirt.

After spectacular and numerous mishaps at Staples, I finally have my new computer set up. Lascia ch’io pianga is the first sound that came out of its speakers. I tried to boot the old one, but it apparently cannot ever again. The new one came at exactly the last possible moment.

I sat in the car for a moment when it looked like, after much misdirection, the day was going to end well. I wept bitterly, thinking of how faithless I am, assuming the worst, summoning rage and despair at the first cross. Every time I panic and things work out nevertheless (which is almost every time) I chastize myself about this, but the lesson seems never to be learned. I have not the faith to move mountains, or even a mustard seed. I am afraid and alone. I hope this is some sort of an excuse.