We've had two in a row, but the weather-guessers say cloudy, 50s, and maybe rain for the weekend. Maybe next month it'll be summer. I planted more beets, another basil plant since the first one got frost nipped last month, and a yellow pear tomato plant today. I helped Mom plant some geraniums, marigolds, and herbs in pots on her balcony. I love playing in the dirt.
June 5--Man Ray, Le Violon d'Ingres. Leo loved his violin, the sensuous curves, the warm amber varnish, the tight scroll above the tuning keys, all gave him pleasure. He had played the violin since he was almost too small to old the instrument. His first (everyone remembers their first) was an old, beat up fiddle that his grandpa had bought off a riverboat on the Ohio. She was scratched and scarred from years of use but she had a passable sound. The bow was adequate but Leo had thought it was elegant because of the tiny disk of abalone on its tip. She had served him well though school until he entered the conservatory when a patron had bought him his one true love. She was Italian, of course, from Amati. He loved her with a burning passion. In the morning his hands trembled as he lifted her from her bed. He wore a cup for concerts so that his ecstasy was evident only to him.
Leo, you perv.
--Barbara
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