The forecast is for 90-degree heat today. The lilacs will be amazed.

Today I begin my reimmersion in Robert Frost's notebooks. Last year these were a key piece of the work that Baron and I did at the Frost Place conference . . . or what I should say is: a week before the conference, Baron sent me his copy and said, "Invent something to do with this every morning before classes begin." After silently cursing him, I began randomly reading snatches of the notebooks and copying down pertinent comments. And as of course Baron expected, it took me about an hour to find more than enough in this volume to talk about for a week.

So today, as a first offering, I give you this Frostian scribble:

"I had these higher thoughts long before I had to have them as a refuge in trouble."

If you're looking for a bathroom book or a middle-of-the-night distraction, these notebooks are almost as good as Fraser's The Golden Bough or Samuel Pepys's diary.

Dinner tonight: couscous salad with chicken, kalamatas, baby leeks, and baby arugula. Cold cheap beer. Popsicles.