Checking in after quite the analog weekend; we know we're in trouble when the dial-ups fail, but at least half the packing is done! [My dear B:  Email that story to your editor this morning.  Remind me to get in touch with the Boston Globe guy in Sarasota]  Getting back into the swing of things with black ink in cups and Peter Howard.  L back from France tonight, M to Ireland on Thursday (a month together and we got no time alone, my fault, I know).  No sharing of house, big as it is.  How now for the week to come?  Content.
    
    2003-06-30
  
  
  
   Rachel
   
  
    
        
  
  
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 - timing After we made love we went out for dinner....
 
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; 
'They called me the hyacinth girl.' 
 
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, 
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not 
  
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither 
  
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 
Looking into the heart of light, the silence. 
  
Od' und leer das Meer. 
-- T.S. Eliot 
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