On the spur of the moment, Tom and I decided to take the ferry to Peaks Island and spend a few hours walking along the beach road. Peaks is one of the Casco Bay islands, the closest to mainland Portland, a 20-minute ferry ride from downtown. Though it's technically just another city neighborhood, it feels like a different place entirely: beach cottages, rocky ledges, grasslands, even an oldish forest in the center of the island. And yet it's so easily accessible: just a cheap short boat ride away.

After strolling and climbing on rocks and staring out to sea and looking at eiders nesting on spits, we came back to town and ate fried clams, then drove home and took a nap, then did nothing much for the rest of the evening except listen to a baseball game. It was a fine summer play day.

Today will be less fun: there is nothing enjoyable about having to take my car to the shop to discuss a brake job and a reluctant air conditioner. And it's going to rain again, and get chilly again, and I still haven't managed to vacuum, and I've got a stack of desk work and no idea what I'll be making for dinner.