i sit on the back porch while the dog pants and drools at my legs; she's already had about half an hour of throw-the-ball, but she's ready for more, and doesn't want to go lie down if there's any possibility that more is forthcoming. it's cooled off a little; yesterday the temperature shot up to 105 while we watched it, practically; it went right up through the nineties in the afternoon and finally we got our air-con to work and all settled in to sleep at night. the boys are in camp these days; one has sports camp and then art camp, so he wants to wake up in the morning and that makes a big difference. in some sense it's like summer when i grew up, where you can go outside sometimes, and you run around and do good stuff. you keep busy. in the true south, the summer is too muggy to do stuff, and once the daytime settles in you have to go inside and drink tea. there's a little bit of that here, but because it's dry, even now i can be on my back porch. i've watered the plants; i'm thinking, if it stays this way, i could sit out here for a while.

came back from kerrville moved basically by my encounters with the rainbow people. they were not too concerned with the news, what had happened in oklahoma, who was winning in baseball, or what to do with the water supply. instead, they traded notes on where they were pulling random searches that included dogs, or where they still fired people for smoking legal substances. opportunity for them was a place to work, to eat and to camp, with plenty of time to play music, and friends around. it was good times, and they got right to telling stories, socializing, sharing whatever they had. when i got home i was inspired to finish my 2013 poetry edition instead of doing some of the other stuff i've had on my plate. that poetry edition is now at about 730, but will probably be pared down as i've found a lot of doubles or repetition as i've gone through it with fine-tooth comb. i also want it to fit into a printable volume that i can continue to give away; as it is, it's 32 pages but the first one is front matter (that could go in the cover) and the last one is blank. so i have a bit more room to expand out into, and i will, but i'm not sure if i'll actually add a page or not. it turns out this poetry really needed a lot of work and if i concentrate on it i almost always find something that could be better, more professional. it's an ongoing project, and i try to make it the best i can each year, but my standards have been going up, and

so it's unspeakable luxury, to sit here in a back courtyard, the garden and flowers watered, my wife frantically overwhelmed and off to work, and the kids pleasantly occupied swimming or running or whatever, and all i have to do is worry about poetry, but there's more out there too, and this dog won't leave me alone, she could use a whole morning of this, apparently, and keeps pushing the wet slimy ball into my arms as i type. my wife wants me to haul concrete for her yard=decoration art project, these bags are quite heavy, and i've had a sore back since before i went to kerrville which comes maybe from being old or maybe from just digging the garden. doesn't matter, slowly i'll ease it back into shape, and get firm with the dog who will leave me alone and take a huge nap like the cats do in the day. when the aircon was down i could hardly imagine that they could even sleep in the day, but they manage to do that, one way or the other, while we go out and run around and do our people stuff. they're sitting there going, you do what you want, i'll sleep, and they do. nighttime, while we sleep, they stand by the window and listen for the birds. or whatever.

can't type; the dog is on me too hard; i'm going to haul concrete or whatever, keep moving, so the dog can rest.