The air is heavy and humid, more like July's weather than June's--a dense, sultry blanket, triggering restless dreams and a languid waking. Still, I love the open windows, the early vague coolness of a summer morning, slow cloudy dawn presaging a broiling afternoon. Birds clatter and trill among the maples--cardinals, sparrows, wrens. In the distance an ambulance whines, and the scent of peonies wafts through the darkened living room.

Today I've got a thousand errands and chores to juggle: grass mowing, first thing, before the heat sets in; then grocery shopping and bathroom cleaning and getting the back room ready for James's arrival. I guess I deserve a busy day, as I did a lot of sitting around yesterday: visiting with friends and watching Helen's baton recital, then spending most of the rest of the day lying in the backyard hammock, reading a Raymond Chandler novel and doing nothing useful. I've got stack of editing to deal with this week, which is making me anxious, as the house will be full of family and I really don't know how or where I can sequester myself to get the work done. I guess I'll figure it out.

Anyway, for the moment, I am sitting here quietly on the couch, drinking my small cup of coffee, gradually pulling myself together for the day.