Improving Conditions.

Everything was different today, right from the moment we let the dog outside: I'm not saying it was cool, but by comparison, it certainly seemed like life could be going on at such a temperature as that. We yes of course heated our way through the day, but we've dropped back down tonight maybe not to attic-fan weather but at least to reasonable, to the kind of weather that doesn't make you want either to switch religions or choose one. It's raining nearby, but not here. These are signs. The gods are still trying to kill us, but not as specifically or immediately or concertedly.

The pots — impatiens, vinca, petunia, geranium — need water. This is a task that's already weighing on me for the morning. But it's a knowable labor. Cup of coffee. Shade out front. Fifteen minutes.

We've got one cut hydrangea in here in a vase on the kitchen table. There are green tomatoes on the vine. Goddamn I love this square of land.