So today is my 44th birthday, and I am "celebrating" by kicking my online heels in the Boston Red Sox Virtual Waiting Room, where I am trying to buy ALCS tickets for my son. I have been waiting for so long that probably they are all sold out and I will be relieved I never said anything to him about it. Outside of this boring interlude I am having a pleasant birthday. It's a lovely northern New England autumn afternoon, I haven't written one word of the Phaeton poem, I deposited a paycheck in the bank (not an everyday occurrence), and I'm almost finished with the Robertson Davies novel I've been working on. Now if only I could escape from this Red Sox red tape.

Later I will go to Harmony's last soccer game of the season (though I am not forgetting tomorrow's thrilling parent-student debacle) and hope that the heroes will add a triumphant flourish to their so-far perfect season.

Too much sports talk in this entry, but you know how parents get trapped.