Even in my dreams I've been juggling desk work, errands, travel prep, class prep, gardening, laundry . . . I wake up at 4 a.m. with to-do lists streaming like banners from my subconscious. I'm not anxious at all about this coming trip; I'm wholeheartedly looking forward to it. Nonetheless, I've got a thousand things to remember to finish, find, clean, dig, and pack; so when the springtime birds start screeching in the near-darkness, I'm instantly screeching right along with them.

Yesterday started off cloudy but gradually morphed into gorgeous. And today, apparently, will be gorgeous from beginning to end. First thing, I'm getting my hair cut--a fine start to a fine day. Who wouldn't want to embark on an adventure with a fresh haircut? Then I'll spend the rest of my day sifting through my various tasks and trying to be outside as much as possible.

Packing for this trip is an interesting challenge. I need to bring as much of my own food as possible for my long day on the train: that's three meals and snacks. I need to carry along a few comfort items for the train--travel pillow and blanket, simple toiletries--plus my reader/writer/time-filling materials: laptop, notebook, novels, crosswords. I need to save room in my suitcase for the teaching materials (participant manuscripts, webcam) I'll use to run next Sunday's zoom class from Chicago. I need to pack clothes and shoes that address the variability of spring weather and the likelihood that I'll be walking for many miles plus going to fun big-city places where I ought not to look as if I've just rolled out of a sleeping bag. I need a hat to deal with the sun, a raincoat to deal with the rain. And I need to be able to cram all of this stuff into a small rolling suitcase, a small backpack, and a not-too-large-or-heavy picnic bag.

You see why it's taking me an entire week to figure this out?

In and among such distractions, I did manage to do a bit of gardening yesterday--planted two new perennials in the backyard: a golden spikenard in a shady corner and an azure baptisia (also known as false indigo) in a sunny spot. I bought a few bags of seaweed mulch and spread them over the new lily bed out front and around the Japanese maple bed in the back. And I ate my lunch at the new table in the back garden, ensconced cozily among flowers and laundry.

I also cooked a meal that made me very happy . . . what I'm calling tagliatelle carbonara alla spring in Maine--a delightful, if nontraditional, concoction of bacon, white wine, eggs, and a big handful of parsley, garlic chives, and green onions fresh from the garden, tossed with flat noodles, served in blue and white bowls, and garnished with violets. It was a lovely sight on the table.