I'm home after two days in a very hot but surprisingly mosquito-free state park, where I hiked, camped, dashed through thundershowers, and wrote about the natural world with a group of remarkable high schoolers. We sat on a mountaintop and wrote. We marveled at mushrooms and granite and starfish. We imagined ourselves into other times and lives, and we tried to live inside questions that we had no answers for. These kids were game for it all, and I loved it. But I wrote some weird stuff, including a brief short story that turned out to be a romantic comedy. I will not be submitting that piece for publication.

And I need to acquire a better camping mat. Ugh. My hips felt like they were drilling postholes all night long.

Today, believe it or not, a plumber is scheduled to check out the possibility of actually doing some plumbing in this house. No guarantees, but some day soon we may no longer be storing the dishwasher in the living room. And, gosh, a kitchen-sink drain that doesn't involve a 5-gallon bucket: what an idea!