FRENCH SICILIAN BREAD AND COMIC BOOKLETS

One of the ponds.

For those of you who asked about the cicadas, today I am getting the full brunt of them. Louise and I are in Rhinebeck, sitting outside, and working on Monsterwood. When I opened the backdoor to step onto the patio, it sounded (and still does) as if I were hearing a flotilla of sirens several blocks away. Quite a cacophony here. 

Meanwhile, and perhaps because of the din, I am singing the Go Go's How Much More? in my head. "How much more can I take before I go crazy?"

Many many hours later.

Isn't it amazing that you don't do the right thing, even when you know better? I had lots of things to say earlier and now that it is tomorrow, I am just plain old sleepy. And as we all know, that is nothing even vaguely new. I should have known better with a girl like me.

The weather was so beautiful, so right, you couldn't have paid for it if you wanted to, which might be a long-winded way of saying it was priceless. Just on the slim edge between warm and cool, which means completely comfortable. We sat in the shade in two Adirondack chairs, smelling the jasmine. 

Eventually, Louise was busily ploughing through my latest set of changes, and I decided to make Tuscan-style bean and tuna salad. I put edamame in it, so I don't think it was very Italian, but it sure was good. 

Sadly, the mosquitos got to my feet on my last evening in Brewster. There must be some way into the screened-in porch. I'll have to look for citronella candles and keep some bug repellant out there. 


I didn't really write about Calexico or the other events of Brooklyn. But I did manage to get in a nice catch up visit with my very most dear Becky MacGregor Clark and to finally meet her son! 

Landon Patrick Clark

And, as is often the case, I see the city with fresher eyes these days and want to photograph everything. Here are a garden doorstep and an interesting shop front in Williamsburg.