G. Love and Special Sauce were excellent. I wasn't overly familiar with their oeuvre, so it took me some time to get all the way into it. And the Troubadour has changed quite a bit since I was last there ... forty years ago (maybe only 35). I think Maria Muldaur was the last show I saw there. They have taken out the tables and it is all standing room now. At any rate, an excellent pizza dinner and delicious green salad freshly picked from my yard. And cocktails. Not a lot of them, but in my healthier condition, I felt a bit slow today. Oh, the pleasures of sobriety. I am coming back to you.
Thursday, Ides of March.
Sally Anne has been out of the writing pocket. Damnation.
Little bits of progress, and more reading. I think the reading has been taking up my spare thought cycles. And then there is The Wire. Almost through the second season. I finished Americanah.
This entire week, there has been a cloud show every day. Often with a cloud show, there is a nice sunset as well. Given the recent switch to daylight saving time, I have been in the garden around dusk to see it.
The weeds and the poppies are so happy with all the rain showers. They are going crazy. Hopefully, I will get caught up with a couple of things tomorrow and be able to do a bit more straightening up of the the backyard and weeding. I did get most, not all, of the bulbs planted and the first crop is, well, cropping up. Much to my amazement, a rose bush I thought I had killed is coming back to life. The Meyer lemon and the lime are rife with new buds. I finally installed the hummingbird feeder, up high so that I could watch from my desk window, but the cats have no chance of getting anywhere near them.
A purple freesia, the first of the year that I planted last year, is budding nicely. I put in a bunch of bulbs last year, but do not, of course, remember what all of them were. I see some gladiola shoots, more tulips, some narcissus, and not sure what the rest might be. The cats dig around and dislocate the bulbs if they are not planted deeply. One of my Mexican sunflower seeds has a shoot. The butter or whatever kind of lettuce, is volunteering in various parts of the yard as is one tomato, and one tomatillo, which already has flowers.
And more artichokes.
EXTRAORDINARY LENGTHS
The only justification
for extraordinary lengths
is extraordinary distances.
Yet you don't find this
in the majority of instances.
No, rather you see lengths
swagger from balconies,
ribbons of lengths rippling
languidly, lengths spooling
from enchanted cavities and
grots. Actually there is
hardly a spot of sky or pool
of water uncolored by some
extraordinary length or other.
Brothers fling bolts of gossamer
off buildings with spectacular
results. Bird negotiate an
aerial spaghetti, sure-footed
goats find themselves unsteady.
Poor people in brightly
lacquered boats just help
themselves to lengths
that tangle up and float
as pleasantly as kelp.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
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