Low Pressure.

Weird weather. A low came in from somewhere — easy guess is west or south — and gave us what amounted to an extremely docile blown-out low-level hurricane last night and today, which is to say, we had rain wrapping around itself and the signature blank center you get with landfalling storms in July and August. We keep adding rain to the total. I want for one of those crystalline spring days, but it's hard to cheer against rain. So. Here's to the big red L on all the weather maps on all the stations. We're meant to be unsettled tomorrow, too. Hang on, robins.

Phil, next door, on his cell phone, navy blue golf shirt tucked into his khakis, putting wiper blades on the Caddy: Well, if you have a Cadillac, you can't put just any blades on that baby. The person on the other end seemed to agree.

He's been so well-dressed since he bought that thing.

What else to say? There is not that much else to say. My favorite student asked me how I was today, and I said I wanted to quit my job. Then I changed my mind, and I told her I wanted to graduate. Then we sat in my lawn chairs and talked poetry until 6:30, gray hurricane clouds spinning by, blue sky opening up and closing back down, cool wind, warm wet air, green everything. Probably I don't get to complain.