Went to bed anxious about the debate. Woke up triumphant about the debate. Love that it was punctuated by a Taylor Swift endorsement signed "Childless Cat Lady."

How I hate that man and his evil party.

***

Here in the little northern city by the sea, the temperature hovers at 45 degrees at 5 a.m. I've timed this week's firewood-moving chore well: it's heartening to watch the basement fill with neat stacks; to remember that the chimney has been swept, the roof repaired, the big maples trimmed. The counter overflows with tomatoes, and today I'll make a batch of sauce for the freezer. Ah, winter, I am almost ready for you.

Yesterday I applied for my absentee ballot, I edited a manuscript, I made pappa al pomodoro--a simple Italian tomato and bread soup that has a heavenly flavor and texture. When T came home from work, he announced that he'd just ordered materials so that he can finally finish our kitchen. Cupboard doors this fall! I am thrilled.

There's a mood in this household, for sure. No more languor. It's time to get stuff done.