There was a lot to worry over today. Not the least of which concerned the remarkable growth rate of the peonies. If the stalks do not stop this absurd upward charge, we will have to build more sky into which they can ascend and pullulate. And the worry, as worries go, is that they will loom heavy and darkly beautiful over the house, and cast a shadow and a powerful murk until the apocalypse, or at the very least mid-summer.