Yesterday started out in Vermont, where my two of my nephews comically pretended to be waiters and cruised around the living room taking orders for Mother's Day breakfast, and ended in Massachusetts, where my third nephew comically gave himself a Participation Award for coming in last in a card game.

In the middle, I had a sunny two-hour walk and lunch with my own sons. It's been a long time since we've all been in the same place, though we were sad we didn't also have Tom there with us.

Now I am lying in bed staring out into spring forest. The pale green maple leaves are bright against the dark conifers, and somewhere a bluejay is squawking.

I apologize for forgetting the link to the essay I posted yesterday, but it's there now. I've gotten more response than I expected to the piece, which makes me happy, of course; but rereading it this morning has also reminded me of the melancholy I lived under when I was writing it. I was so homesick.