Return of the Thing

The rain came today, after four days of sparkling weather. Iris are blooming all over the garden (rumor has it that there are one or two black iris in there...) Rupert Everett's autobiography is a great read - nearly finished, after replacing the wire mesh around the chimney's rain guard - I'm satisfied that the dead bat I found in the living room came in through the chimney flu, so I braved steep ladders on a steep roof with an audience of p.o.'ed swallows to replace the tattered mesh.

After my workout, I decided that I wasn't so desperate as to sit in the hot tub under a steady heavy rain. The moon will be full tonight, and by 3 am it will be over the ocean, and by then the clouds may be cleared by the projected change in wind direction, so I've set the tub to heat to 104 by 1.

Such a sad, empty life.

JD came by the house to pick up his XBox. He stayed that night, and the following one. His chief comment about the card I had sent (in which I said that I hoped there would be no hard feelings, we just can't be together, good bye and good luck, do you want this XBox or not?) was disbelief that I had offered to let him sleep on the sofa from time to time, if he ever needed innocent shelter.

"The SOFA?! HELL!"

And he didn't build a wall of pillows between us.