Reading Day.

Here's what I can tell you, friends and fans: It's 11:30 again, and Your Source for Local Weather can easily report that today's forecast — what remains of it — will be dark and cloudy. And a little warmer. Something's riding in. We were nearly sunny all day, storms back west but held up, and so what we had was a kind of half-clouded punch-bowl sunshine, a flashlight through a sheet, sort of or almost. You could tell that other people somewhere else were having weather, and we were having the edges and lees of that.

School's out. For summer. Except that I have a class tomorrow, what's supposed to be a final, the end of a workshop, the last four or five pieces that came in right at the end. And I have conferences. And I have a passel of grading. And I have six other things to check off before I can hang the Do Not Disturb sign on my school email. Or sixteen.

Somebody else in NYC wants to see the damaged novel. The beagles keep barking. My tomatoes are probably not getting enough sun.

I haven't looked at forecasts or radar, but I'm going to say that here at ANYLF we like the chance of rain in the next give or take 24 hours. It just feels like it. It also — I hate like hell to say it — feels like one of these days soon we're going to snap right up to 90. It's time. This is what happens. We'll snap back again, but it's getting close to the end. It'll be reasonable until July, but we're sliding. July is out there.

I picked mint and chives at 9:00 tonight. It was still light enough to see what I was picking. I do love these long days.