It's still pouring rain out there, and I'll be rushing out the door into the morning . . . first to haul the trash to the curb, then to drive across town to help staff the Monson Arts table at the Maine Council of English Language Arts convention. I used to staff book-fair tables for CavanKerry Press, so I know how this works, but I'm not naturally good at face-to-face sales chatter, and I fear the day will be long. However, I will grit my teeth and do my part for my program. At least I don't have to drive far.

Otherwise, what's new? Editing, housework, trying to get things arranged for our upcoming travels . . . cat sitting, eclipse glasses, meal plans. This will be a working trip for me--I'll be teaching in Monson and editing in West Tremont--but Tom will have a real week off and is arranging to spend some of it on a photo project, so he's figuring out his parallel itinerary.

Our twice-yearly travels to Mount Desert Island have been really good for Tom and me. We get to spend time with a dear friend and help her out with things in the house and garden. We get to live in a little cottage we love, beside a little cove we love. We don't have to spend money we don't have. But also, because everything is familiar and regular, our daily lives can slip into this world comfortably. I find it easy to work in the cottage: I don't feel the pressure to be on vacation, to manufacture fun. And yet my sleeping and waking schedules relax, even as I putter through my obligations. And when I can step away from that work, Acadia is waiting.