I saw the rainbow's end in my front yard. It always rains on my birthday. It fell in great white sheets and the light in the dark clouds was yellow. A double rainbow separated the day light from the half light from the dark light of gradated clouds churning above. The cascade of waterfalling deafened us. We stood hushed and wide-eyed at the unprecedented torrent and wind whipping the trees, sun shining from the west and glinting off the rain drops, glaring off the wet streets as the rain splashed, soaking and saturating the the face of everything, permeating the essence of all things. In ten minutes our entire back porch was an inch deep in water, the gutters in the streets were filled to the curb, the narrow front walkway drowned beneath rainwater.

I love the rain. I love living in the land of rainbows.

Sunday I danced with a green-gold veil that moves like water. The cabaret theater was softly lit with quaint little lamps on the tables, and the stage lighting was perfect. Intimate but also removed, enough room for everyone. After the performance we went with wonderful friends to the Greek restaurant next door and ate delectable food and drank wine from Nemea and listened to S tell the story of Nemea in Greece, Nemea the tiny little town where Heracles was born, where he killed the lion whose skin he wore as a cloak. S tells the best stories and I fall in love with him every day.

I picked the Belmont winner Birdstone because of the way he walked and he looked leggy, coltish but with good heart and bottom because I know such things about horses, but given the chance I would have bet on Smarty Jones out of hope that he would win and make that scary looking corporate man have to give up the five million promised the next Triple Crown winner. The race was fun to watch and almost made me regret that we don't have a television, but not really. Our friends made mint juleps using peppermint we brought from our yard, and served them with cheese & crackers.

I have had two three-day weekends in a row and now Ronald Reagan died so it looks like I get another three-day weekend because all the federal buildings and banks are closed Friday. How nice. So long as they don't go and put his mug on the dime.

Until whenever, my dear ones. I'm off and running, and you won't catch me in the backstretch.