Sunday morning, and it’s raining

I attribute this mainly to two purchases. Yesterday I bought a) more bedding plants that love hot weather, and b) some supplemental garden watering equipment. I may be days before I get to test any of them.

The hummingbird wars are in full swing this morning. We’ve generally had 3 or 4 of them flitting around the feeder, but as if cued this morning, 7 showed up all at once and engaged in about 20 minutes of aerial maneuvers and combat. They made me laugh out loud at times.

Yesterday I went into Newport. I’ve taken on the job of emcee at the Nye Beach Writers’ Series, a once a month series of readings and performances. This is the best job I’ve ever had, no pay, but about once a month I get a new book free.

Last evening I had the pleasure of introducing one of Oregon’s truly fine poets, Vern Rutsala. Vern was one of my workshop leaders at an MFA residency, and I admire him as poet, teacher, and person. So afterward I joined him and his wife Joan at the Shiloh Inn lounge for what was to be a glass of wine and a few minutes of catchup conversation. We ended up spending about two and half hours of gabbing, story telling, and literary critique and made plans for a more extended session here at the farm in the near future.

The turnout at the reading was fabulous, lending weight to my request that we include more poets in our featured readers.

But I didn’t get home until nearly 1 a.m. I’m too old for those sorts of hours any more, and I’m dragging around a bit today.

So this will be a short post. I’ve some friends coming down for a late lunch, and I’m hoping the rain will let up a bit because I plan to barbecue. If it doesn’t, I’ll just move my truck and barbecue in the carport. But I need to do some tidying, prep, and stuff.

Happy Sunday, all.

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