No rain yet, but it's imminent . . . skies low, air still, earth at the ready.

My new strawberry bed is planted, and while I was out buying topsoil I rescued three shrubs from a Paris Farmers' Union 65%-off sale. The poor things were in sad condition--lanky and shriveling--but at $12 apiece I figured I could take a risk on rehabilitation. After pruning and coddling, they already look much better. So now I have a red hydrangea, a pink andromeda, and a white spiraea planted in the hill country along the driveway. If all goes well, they'll create a soft hedge between our property and the neighbors'.

I wanted to remind you I'll be zoom-reading next week, Wednesday, September 2, at 7 p.m., with my friend Linda Aldrich, who is a member of my poetry group here in Portland. The reading is sponsored by the Portsmouth Poet Laureate program, and it includes an open-mic segment from 8-9 p.m. If you're interested in attending/contributing, the organizers would like you to send an email RSVP to info@pplp.org, preferably by this Sunday, August 30, with  "Zoom Hoot RSVP" in the subject line. I'm planning to read some new work, maybe the piece I wrote about the guy who knocked on my door.

This weekend my normal house routines will be in an uproar as Tom will be tiling in the kitchen. So I'm not sure where I'll be holed up, amid the rain outside and the mess in the kitchen and the boy in my study. Imagine me perched on a stool in the bedroom or stomping through puddles in the cemetery.