Spent a terrific morning trying on wigs at Macy's. I was frightfully drunk, of course, but the clerk didn't seem to mind. I passed out on a divan at one point - when I woke I was in my garden with a sack of plastic swim caps. Curious. Just feet away, Rafe was slouched over another one of his tiresome canvases, painting visions of tulips and God knows what else. I put on a swim cap and told him to stop fouling my garden with his oily ambition. He thinks me a scold and a prophet and he is half right.