We got some rain yesterday--not a lot, but enough to smash the peonies (as expected) and to give everything a mild drink. Before the downpours started I pulled out or pruned various greens that were going to seed, thinned beets and carrots, planted succession crops of carrots, arugula, and lettuce and fall crops of kale and collards. My peas are disappointingly thin this year, and some insect keeps eating the beans. But the greens look pretty good, and so far the groundhog has not popped up to destroy them.

I've been tearing through books lately: Mary Karr's The Liar's Club, Toni Jensen's From the Hilltop. More slowly: Rilke, and my friend's manuscript. Now I'm taking a brief rest with Barbara Pym's Excellent Women. Tom wants me to cut his hair today, which could be a huge mistake, but he's getting desperate.

These are all such small things.

* * *

Lord,

              when you send the rain

              think about it, please,

              a little?

[from "Untitled" by James Baldwin]