Today I need to make bread, get a tire fixed, take a boy out for a haircut, edit a special-ed textbook, and continue writing a lecture about Paradise Lost. At the moment I am, as usual for this time of day, sitting at the kitchen table, drinking strong coffee, and watching bird fights at the feeder. Blue jays versus morning doves is the 7 a.m. feature.

Maine is presently enjoying its ten minutes of summer. The air is heavy with the scent of roses.

Tomorrow evening I will drive to Portland on my new tire and attend the Maine Literary Awards, which this year seems to be set up to mimic the Academy Awards. We don't know who will win but we have to make sure that our acceptance speeches are ready anyway. I think I won't win, which is fine. But it will be a long drive to Portland and back with no baseball on the radio to keep me awake.

This is a dull post, I know. I blame its dullness on the tire.

A few people wrote to me about yesterday's post, which they said made sense to them. I was relieved. Sometimes I get carried away.