Partially Trimmed.

Ran out of little skinny pieces of wood. Still, it's coming together.



We're just beginning week three of our one-week catbox project. Things are going swimmingly. Can't blame the weather any more, either: the pattern has for sure shifted, leaving us hot and even a little dry, not a ton of humidity to speak of, no real fighting chance for afternoon showers. The tomatoes are going gangbusters. Flowers and ferns in their pots, though, not so much. Haven't really yet had to water this season. Am trying to remember what the rhythm of that feels like.

Am trying also to remember the rhythm of going outside every day, hearing people talk, writing down what they say. Most of the sentences out back right now are feeling very Hall-of-Presidents. Only one in ten feels like I want to ask it to the prom. Maybe I shouldn't complain. Maybe one in ten is enough to get things going.

New building, new book. Feels like I have to teach myself to write all over again. I need to hang some new doors out there, get some better light in. I need a damn screen door, is what I need.