July 31, 2025

Turns out that D who wanted to repair my Wikipedia page is a scammer–  at least searching his name online reveals only a female Asian banker. Turns out there’s no such thing as a Wikipedia head editor, which he claimed to be. 

Haircut, washing of my poor foundling car, grocery shopping, much sitting with the air conditioning on listening to the radio in various parking lots, and still Iris had not finished with the house. I was berserk with impatience. I realize nothing stops me from coming home while she’s still working, but that’s one of Those Things Which I Do Not Do. 

Cannas and Joe-pye in bloom. 

A Furnace of Beryl

 July 30 2025

Reading MJ's memoir. He warned me I’d be in it, so I looked first thing, and there I am, primarily to do a good deed which I had forgotten: introducing him to his second wife, S, who was my roommate at the time. She asked to move in while divorcing her first husband (whom I thought was exquisite: a handsome abstract painter), which I didn’t realize until now was probably a set-up concocted by her and MJ to get her away from her husband and into a space where they could carry on their passion. . . which they did. No matter. It was an interesting time.  The book puzzles me a little. It’s a lively read, but I can’t imagine its having an audience beyond those mentioned in its pages, and still alive. 

P & I talking Blake on the porch while the thunder blasted in the east. The Male is a Furnace of beryl; the Female is a golden Loom.

 

July 28, 2025

News from Scotland: Trump creates a trade crisis, then gets credit for partially resolving it. That America should always have the better deal is not what our forefathers fought for. 

D, the editor of Wikipedia, wants to edit my page and improve it by taking away tags, etc. I say yes, and miraculously manage not to take a look. The last time I looked at the page was 2019 or so, after disgruntled student Z B-S libelously vandalized it. Such laborious malice is hard for me to comprehend.

Watched Olivier’s Henry V. Wonderful!

Thunderstorms each evening. They don’t cool things down much, but they allow my garden to get through the heat wave. You can hear the thirsty roots sucking. The wet lasts until morning, evaporates in the first hour of brutal sun. 

 

July 27, 2025

Maybe I prosper in the record-breaking heat, or maybe I just endure it, but recent days have been full of accomplishment. 

Publicity for GMC’s Christmas concert is horrifying. It’s meant to be a bearded drag queen in a sleeping cap (not unlike Scrooge, you see) but it’s weird and un readable. It’s not necessarily a good idea to let your boyfriend do the art. 

 

July 26, 2025

Furious personal message from TE, from Ellet, scolding me for the horrible things I say about Trump, “the greatest President America has ever had.” He’s memorable from high school and Boy Scouts mostly for his extravagant stupidity, which was rather sweet in its way. I wonder why stupid people don’t check themselves before going on tirades. Do they not know they’re stupid? Do they think stupid goes away when they really, really mean it? This is the same guy who was asked to resign from his county school board after he advocated that police use live ammunition to quell Black Lives Matter demonstrations. Judging by the illiteracy of his message, the greatest offense was his being on ths school board of anywhere.  I resisted the opportunity to correct grammar and spelling and send the message back.

The Asheville Cantos

 July 25, 2025

Mother’s birthday. 

Modest weeding, planting of a purple elderberry, copious watering against the crushing heat. 

Finished The Asheville Cantos last night. Sat on the porch with my Buddha-gong, thinking how perfect everything was. 

 

July 23, 2025

Early to the riverside. Cloudy. Everywhere was shade. Two herons chased each other up and down the river, croaking in a way I found unusual.  Wrote until my hand cramped grotesquely and I could physically write no more. Wedding anniversary cocktail with J and DJ and L and M. M corrected my Italian grammar.