September 7, 2019

Bright days continue. A flight of helicopters came over as I was digging room for new iris. The sound of invasion.

My first try at begonias has been a resounding success. Dug a new bed for iris, and then put them somewhere else. The new bed was not murmuring “iris.” 

Dreams last night of theater productions, probably related to the big reading downtown tonight. They were doing one of my plays, and one scene had everybody’s head poking through blue plastic. I asked what the hell that was about, and was shown in the script where I had specified that scene happened in the water.

David Lee Garrison writes that he knew me at Johns Hopkins. I was miserable at Hopkins, and assumed I was as invisible as I felt. Delicious to know that somebody remembered. I do not, in fact, remember him, though I’m going to drive out to my office and delve through the Baltimore journals till I find him.