Out for flu shot, TDAP, SSRI refill for the happy new year. Four new pandemic pounds—your weight’s still in the normal range, says the doctor, are you happy about it? Do I look like I’m happy with anything? I don’t hate my body as I once did, this is what our truce looks like and it’s unattractive, like any compromise.
Planting a desert garden out front. The agaves were here when we arrived. I gave them some gravel, added ceanothus and manzanita and a small palo verde that lost all its leaves as soon as I planted it. They do that; the bark is still green. But I’ve worried about it for months.
Still no rain. The wish for rain.