August 20th, 2009


"The most merciful thing in the world..."

And here we are again. On this day in 1890, 74 years before my own birth, Howard Phillips Lovecraft was born. Think of him today, warts and all. Myself, I would be planning on visiting his grave this evening, were it not for my run in on this day one year ago with the Nazis who are Swan Point Cemetery security. Not really up for that again. Instead, I'll remember him in other ways. Maybe I'll read "The Colour Out of Space" for the thousandth time.

The promised rain did not materialize, and we're still baking here in Providence. Spooky and I are hiding in my office with Dr. Muñoz, who can just manage to keep this room and the adjoining bathroom bearable. I have to get some work done. No more running from the heat. Between one thing and another, August has been a grand distraction and hurdle, and I must get back to writing, and do it today.

Yesterday, we got out of the House as early as we could. First, we stopped by Jerry's Artarama (formerly Art Supply Warehouse), because they had moleskine notebooks on sale absurdly cheap. Then, we drove down to Peace Dale, and I spent the day in the library there, reading and making notes for the next novel, the one to come after The Red Tree, which currently has the working title Blood Oranges. That title may or may not change when I actually begin writing the book in September.

After the library, we stopped by Spooky's parents' place in Saunderstown, and picked apples and blueberries. It was late enough that the sun was setting, and the day was finally cooling off. We also got yellow squash and eggs and a cucumber, and Spooky's dad commented that this weather feels more like the Philippines than Rhode Island (he's spent time in the Philippines, studying fisheries there, so I figure he ought to know). On the way home, we stopped at Stanley's (since 1932) for burgers, because my red-meat craving continues. I think we were home by about 8 p.m.

There are photos. Usually, I find myself photographing Nature. So, yesterday, I decided to concentrate, instead, on man-made things:

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Last night, we finished watching Space: Above and Beyond. Not great TV, but pretty good TV, by the last few episodes. I just can't help but dig space opera.

Also, please do have a look at the current eBay auctions. And I haven't forgotten about the tree photo/art contest. I've just been too hot and distracted to go through the 250+ entries and choose my favourite. I promise I'll try to do that tonight.

We get Duncan Jones' Moon at the Avon on Saturday or Sunday night, and while it looks like Hurricane Bill will be veering out to sea and pose no threat to New England, I am looking forward to the 18-25 foot waves that we're expecting this weekend.

In memorium. In defiance.

This is the photograph from HPL's grave last August 20th, the one the security guard tried to force Kathryn to delete. Previously, I have printed it only in Sirenia Digest. It seems the least I can do today, to put it online:

There are two more behind the cut, two I have never shown before:

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And I will note that one year after a security guard threatened to call the police for having photographed the grave, the Swan Point Cemetery's website, which has a long list of forbidden activity, still does not include photography of graves as something visitors are not permitted to do.