I apologize for the series of terse posts, but terse was how was I feeling. However, now that I am the owner of a set of satiny-smooth rear discs and rotors, now that I'm not wincing through the Vermont hills feeling like I'm braking in a box of rocks, now that I have sailed smoothly and without incident over the Green Mountains and down the interstate highways, I believe my volubility will return.

Except for the brakes, the visit was mostly fun. My parents were in a reasonably good state of mind, my son and his partner were delightful, my nephews were a hoot, and my sister and brother-in-law were cheery and welcoming. The weather was decent, the neighboring cows were attractive, the game-playing was rampant. If only I hadn't been driving a machine of doom, it would have been a good weekend.

And now here I am, back in Portland, with a thousand chores yammering at me. Today will have to be laundry and housework and a visit to the body shop to get a rust estimate plus whatever garden and yard catch-up I can squeeze in. Maybe I'll have a chance to do some editing as well, but likely it will have to wait. I did fit in an afternoon of work in Vermont, when the car was in the shop and the kids were off on a big cousin outing, so I'm not too far behind.

In my email are the first page proofs for Calendar, the offer of a teaching gig and a reading, some registration notices for Poetry Kitchen classes . . . I need to meet with Gretchen to plan our next SideXSide session . . . I need to buy bus tickets to New York . . . I'm hosting a dinner party this weekend . . . 

Responsibility is weighing me down, but at least my brakes work really well now.