I'm running a bit late this morning because it's trash day at the Alcott House, which means that I spent a very long time scuffling around the basement in my bathrobe, where I was collecting and breaking down stacks of moving boxes into pieces small enough to jam into the recycling bin, while also trying to keep the cat from climbing into every single box I was trying to eliminate.

In the end, I did manage to stuff an extraordinary number of boxes into a relatively small space, and I did not accidentally recycle the cat. So, success!

And last night's essay class was wonderful. Such interesting participants! And such a beautiful conversation! We talked about three essays: a craft piece by Philip Lopate and then Joan Didion's "On Keeping a Notebook" and Ocean Vuong's "Surrendering." The participants' sensitivity, acuity, and generosity were just lovely to behold. I feel so fortunate to have been a witness.

So today: bread baking, and a curriculum meeting about my upcoming high school residency, and errands, and maybe even a chance to do some writing. Already the sun is shining, and the world is busy and alive, and I am fidgety and cheerful and a little bit disorganized and distractible--very pleasant feelings for a Friday morning, and I plan to let them take charge of my day.