After yesterday's all-night-all-day-all-night rain, the neighborhood is sopped. The black walnut tree droops under the weight of its water load. Puddles line driveways. Grass glimmers and sags. Tomato plants bow to the ground.

It's Saturday, and it's still early, and I wish I'd been able to sleep longer, but my brain doesn't turn off easily these days. At least I can sit here quietly in my corner. I can savor my weekends-only second cup of coffee, and I can enjoy not hurling myself into chores and duties.

It's been a stressful week, to say the least. The Vermont situation is, of course, the major worry; the fact that I'm sitting here instead of being there is just one of many untenable scenes in a long convoluted tale of magical thinking. But I've had work stress as well, changes afoot that are necessary but painful. I'm not enjoying all of this unexplained hinting, but at the moment I can't put my family on the blog gridiron, nor can I delve into the job shift until things are formally settled.

What I can say is that I am sitting in my couch corner, listening to the quiet house, as the cogs of my life chunk stiffly into a new harder-to-pedal gear. Well, that is how it has to be. I'll pant more, and sweat more, and my legs will get stronger. Here's hoping that the top of the hill has a magnificent view.