It's raining lightly now, but that's only a temporary condition. Tropical-style torrents are on the way: we're may get up to 4 inches, with flash floods and high surf, and I am not happy that Paul is supposed to be flying into Portland in this mess.

That's scheduled for later in the afternoon, though, so cancellations could happen. In the meantime, I need to swath myself in a raincoat and lug the trash to the curb, then endure my morning exercise class, and afterwards finish editing that novel. I worked so hard on it yesterday that I think I've got a good chance to meet my maybe-too-hopeful goal.

With all of these obligations, my brain is feeling kind of peaked, maybe a bit starved for imaginative oxygen. Sometimes it gets that way when I edit.  A long lunchtime walk helped yesterday, but I doubt that will be in the cards today. So I've got to find time to read poems, or at least to copy one out . . . something to help me air out my synapses.