Fog drapes thinly over the bay, and already the humidity is intensifying.

I'm back at my desk today: no morning walk past the cruise ships disgorging their thousands. I have a wagonload of editing work to do, and I also have some hopes of dipping back into my poem-in-progress. I also have endless painting work to do, so who knows what will transpire?

Yesterday evening Tom and I went to the tile store and sort of narrowed down what we like for the kitchen floor (grey slate or its porcelain twin) and the counter backsplash (red glass). Tom will be building the cabinets of fir, and I think we'll have white countertop. And he got word from the city that they're about to issue our building permit. I guess that means things will be shortly be hustling along.

I'm feeling good at the moment, despite also feeling overwhelmed by duty. My two days among the teachers were revivifying, and I'm glad to have so much steady editing work. My new garden is producing new greens: this evening, I'll harvest a batch of kale and chard. I've been playing music, and hanging out with friends, and carving out a small space for private thought.

But Puerto Rico.