May 14, 2019

Amos Lassen in Jerusalem writes, “You’re a beautiful writer. Reading Falls now, Will post review later.” Suzanne writes that my characters are haunting. SS says I must be the most ecstatic writer since Blake. Since Blake is my god, at least I am keeping the right company.

Moderate gardening, mostly the pulling of noxious vines.  The sheer weight of the biomass is astonishing.

Last night the cats were agitated, and there was a howling and barking of dogs–in my yard. I went out to look. A huge woolly white dog which I took to be a standard poodle ran up on the porch and greeted me, snuggling me and hitting my arm with his paw. I read somewhere that helper dogs will seek out humans if their human is in trouble, so I was prepared to follow him, but he plopped down on my porch like he had lived there forever. Down on the driveway a beagle sniffed maniacally, over and over in the same place. Every now and then they barked and lunged at something in the back yard, I assumed a bear, though there was no sign of any presence like that this morning.

Decided to write Emma Truvain’s poems for her.