I was wrong about the rain, I'm happy to say. I woke up at 4 a.m. to the sounds of a downpour--not a steady soaking by any means, but supposedly that's coming later in the week.

I'll be back to the editing desk this morning, then talking to Teresa about Byron in the afternoon and, I hope, staring out the window at showers and puddles.

Tom and I ate dinner in front of a movie last night: Hopscotch, a sweet and silly ex-CIA-man caper starring Walter Matthau and Glenda Jackson. Just before we sat down to eat, Tom told me, "They released Trump's taxes." Immediately we both started giggling. And that was before I learned he'd deducted $70,000 for hair care.  That's what you get for $70,000?

Call me childish, but I've got to say: the giggling felt pretty good.