April 6, 2019

Full spring. Rose early and went to work out, but it was too early, and the Y stood dark. Wrote industriously last night and this morning on the Hiram novel, which I had not expected to do. I found where I’d left off before, and why I had to stop, and discovered how I could move on. Taking a rest from writing, I went to the garden, where the day was a full triumph. The lawn is just now perfect with violets and forget-me-nots. Planted canna and rhubarb and a tremendous quantity of gladiolus I must have gotten for a special price. Jose is mowing. Glad I saw the violets before he started. 

Have an appointment on Tuesday to see the Dean and the Provost about my transgressions as a serial harrasser. By any objective measure I am blameless and most cruelly put-upon, but I have learned not to expect the matriarchy to take the straight way. I fear in the end it won’t matter what actually happened. Even to assert the facts will be looked upon as not quite getting the point. But also, I don’t care very much. Mostly, I resent having to think about it.

On the same day (unless I’ve been fired) , Evan and I do our reading in the Laurel Forum.  It is the first the world will hear from The Falls of the Wyona.