Still no rain. I dread the sight of the water bill. But I did pick the first two big tomatoes yesterday, and used them in one of our favorite summer dishes--corn salad (with purchased corn, of course: the gardener at the Alcott House regretfully draws the line at a corn patch).

I've started reading Edith Wharton's The House of Mirth, which oddly enough I've never read all the way through. You'd think Wharton would be a regular of mine, but for some reason younger me did not fall in love. (Older me recalls that younger me may have been in more of a Henry James zone at the time.)

In other news: car passed inspection (phew); friendly ex-neighbor scared the bejeezus out of the cat by honking at him; weird beetles are annoying me; Sassy Groundhog has disappeared (not my fault!); new poems are coming along; people tell me they plan to attend my book launch (phew, but naturally I'm pessimistic and expect that the only two attendees will be reluctant family members); several people have expressed interest in reviewing CR (very thrilling to habitually non-reviewed me); and I hope to spend this afternoon making masses of pesto with one of my dearest friends (must write pine nuts on grocery list).