My son called yesterday afternoon to remind me of our upcoming project: we're going to spend the summer reading Anna Karenina together. He's going to bring his copy on his canoe trip, and I'm going to carry my copy around the house with me, and then when he gets back we're going to have a confab. Those who know me may be surprised to learn that this was entirely his idea: I did not twist his arm, or even suggest that we should read something together. But I am, of course, very excited about having a Tolstoy reading project with my kid.

An odd fact of life: you long to have a baby, and then you do have a baby, and then you are really distracted/exhausted/overwhelmed by having a baby, and it never occurs to you that someday your baby will grow up and the two of you will read Russian novels together and emote together over the phone about baseball and birds and beef stew, just like best friends.

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Tonight is the big Maine Literary Awards gala at Bates College, and what should I wear? Ugh. I tell you: there is always something to worry about. Thankfully, one thing I don't have to worry about is driving because one of my salon friends has offered to tote a carload, which makes me very grateful. My vision is poor, and my night vision is worse, and my night vision on highways is abysmal, and nobody wants me to be in charge of a car in that situation.

As I think I mentioned, two of us salon-writers are finalists for the poetry book award, so if Maureen wins I can be cheerfully excited for her, and if the third person wins, we can be ironically bereft together, and thus I hope the evening will be manageable or maybe even enjoyable. These things always make me nervous but at least this time I'll have a posse and won't be prowling around the edges like a stray cat.

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In the meantime, I have a day to get through. I need to mend a hole in a sweater, and clean the bathrooms, and vacuum and mop, and finish a small editing project, and flomp through my exercise regimen, and read someone's short-story ms, and revise an essay. Yesterday, finally, my semi-lethargy began to lift, and I spent the morning vigorously planning my part of the Writing Intensive sessions that Teresa and I will be running together at the Frost Place. It's an elaborate concept project that I cannot reveal here, for reasons of fun and surprise, but the two of us are having a great time sussing it out.

We had a freeze warning last night but didn't quite hit the frost line. Still, things are pretty chilly out there. I haven't planted any tender summer crops yet--tomatoes, peppers, or the like--but my beans are sprouting, and I hope they're okay.