Shingles shot yesterday gives me a rough night. Frank gets me Advil when he wakes early; my daughter makes me coffee, and by 7:30 a.m. I’m determined to get up and do what I planned for today. I go to buy the seedlings for the vegetable garden in a pleasant, light rain. I am the first customer, and this is a wonderful garden center I’ve been recommended to check out by Kathryn. I have all the time I need to find everything I want. Cherry tomatoes, cucumber, celery, onion, eggplant, yellow squash, zucchini, zinnias, fennel, basil, lavender, lettuce, swiss chard, green beans, peas. . . All day there are clouds and soft precipitation. Wave helps me clear some prickers in the yard. Frank comes home from tennis and we work in the garden, planting and planting. All the good scents of fresh plants in so many varieties. I rake and I plant and so does Frank. We have bought a second compost bin. Tired, and happily so, we both have late afternoon naps. Before my nap I try so start a poem for tomorrow and I cannot find what I want to work on. After my nap, I let everyone eat leftovers and I find a poem and spend the evening of a new draft. It’s sent off. All the tendrils, all the tiny rooted things in the good soil in their new home.