Beautiful heavy rain last night, hours and hours, with little wind. It actually got rather cool. I went walking in it, under my K-Mart golf umbrella, getting soaked from the water I kicked up with my flip-flops, but keeping my glasses dry. Reading Edmund White's The Married Man: realistic in a surprising, almost Flaubertian way, showing the dignity that the imminence of death (AIDS) confers even to silly, inconsequential men; like the 'Peter' of the story, so justly despised by 'Big Lucien.'