It’s 6 AM. I wake up thinking about the calls I absolutely have to make today, at least ten, better write a list. Also have to work out next week’s talk on the creative process. That should come first. It’s for visual artists, so I have to skew it more in that direction, have to figure out where to insert visuals. Or will the audience look at the visuals then and ignore what I’m saying? Maybe I should put them at the end. But what about the garden? Tomorrow is already June. I decide to do my yoga, make breakfast, read the Times, do the crossword, and relax before settling in for the marathon.

While skimming the newspaper, I see an article in the HOUSE AND HOME section on recycling grey water, read it, and want to write a poem. I go to the computer, grab some scrap paper, and scribble: We all want to save the baby, Can we save the bathwater, too? Earth is going down the tubes, What should we do? Can dishwater provide us with a flush, Or will it bubble? Can we use it in our garden, Is that too much trouble?

Don’t have time to work on it now, and anyway underneath the paper I’m writing on there’s an envelope that needs to be postmarked today. I stamp it, 39 + 2, and run it to the corner mailbox. When I return I hear the bindweed in my front yard screaming at me, angry about that last blog. I start to pull it out. Endless. I imagine there’s so much bindweed because we got rid of all the other weeds, got rid of its competitors. Also know that pulling will probably stimulate growth, like pruning a tree. Thinking of this reminds me it’s time to write a new blog, better mention that the new bike rack arrived at Pick ‘N Save, and it’s very popular. I go back inside and turn on the computer, about 100 messages since midnight, at least 95 of them spam. Delete, delete, delete.“Senate approves Iraq money with no withdrawal,” spam or politics? The spammers are getting more and more clever, and I trash everything that creates suspicion. There’s the doorbell. The post-woman. I return to the computer, write my blog in shorthand, enter it into Microsoft Word, telephone rings. And now it’s already 11:30. I haven’t even written my list.