NO ONE TELLS ME ANYTHING

Today's book: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

I am catching up, gradually. I had no intention of starting this book today, but it was here, and next thing I know I'm over 200 pages into it. It's marvelous to see Harry display some flaws and meet with misfortune; it's very refreshing after three books of "Oh, don't worry Harry, you're very rich and here is some delicious candy." GoF was a little harder-edged but only at the end; that was more "Don't worry, Harry, you're incredibly brave and look, you've succeeded at everything!" It's nice to see him mad. I hope this means Draco gets a sympathetic moment or two.

Today I walked to Hyde Park Square and met a woman trailed by a little girl blowing a whistle. "That's getting old already," the mother sang our wearily to the empty air, then she saw me and smiled. "We're going to find a way to lose that, I think."

In front of the post office is an iron garden sculpture of a person holding his arms out; a basket of petunias had been hung from each arm, but they were blasted and brown. I suppose they fried in the heat. The effect was delightfully grim and got me hankering for fall. This year I want to harvest something; I want to play the role of Death, even if it's just putting up a bunch of dried herbs. On the walk back I passed the Baptist church and noticed with a start that one of its stained-glass windows has a sickle as its centerpiece. It felt like a secret cool breeze.

Today's plant: Assorted foliage from the Bigg's garden aisle. I bought it months ago to put in a new pot I had just made for my gentleman-caller out of an empty White Castle coffee bag. The thing is now three times taller than the bag. I repotted it yesterday and it resembles a tree.