It rained through the night...

And until an hour ago, although when I was out between half past five and half past six the rainfall was very light. Unfortunately, Phoebus has not knocked his head through the clouds and it remains chilly, too cold for me to be comfortable really, even with my cap on. Must boil water for tea and put on the sweater. While I could plug in the heater, we are already counting down the month to the Kalends of June: it would be like turning on the air conditioner in Advent.

Saint Eugène in Paris is, according to what is displayed at YouTube, streaming the Mass in rogationibus at the rather odd hour of  (my time) 1600; am hoping that someone has made an error and that things will begin at 1000 here. But we shall see.

These days I do little more than skim the headlines at the Guardian and the New York Times. The silly rabbits cannot decide whether they want to concentrate on the inequities that the 'lockdown' (I am not and have not been 'locked down', thank you very much) causes (and this chiefly in the minority communities of people of color, or people of gender dysphoria, or people of feminism, or the rural poor, or the urban poor, or the disenfranchsed felons) or on the fact that the 'lockdown' is not everywhere as fiercely enforced as it is in Mr DeBlasio's imagination. Pft.

How can I not have understood that small containers of fresh pineapple are available every day at the supermarket at the cost of a couple of dollars?

The other tenant here is moving, off to his girlfriend's house in Springfield, so he tells me. He has a good deal of practical knowledge that comes in quite handy, considering that it's a miracle that this place still stands in spite of rain and wind and drainage troubles, not to mention whatever it is that I hear occasionally scurrying behind the wall.

I fell asleep in my chair, for what must have been close to two hours; good heavens. Thought that I had slept fairly well last night but I suppose one never knows-- the combination of the chilly air, the morning walk, and breakfast presumably worked together in aid of Nod; I ought not to have left Spotify's 'Discover Weekly' playlist on quietly, either-- it will have masked the beginning of the livestream on the other laptop tab: yes, Saint Eugène began its livestream at 1000 my time, not 1600. Ha; it is good that tomorrow and Wednesday are also Rogation days, with Wednesday seeing also the vigil Mass of the feast of Our Lord's Ascension..