For more than a year T has been planning a photo trip into Aroostook County, and all spring he's been watching the weekend weather and sighing heavily as one rainstorm after another barreled across the state. But finally, this weekend, he's found his opportunity, and today, after work, he'll head north for a few days alone with his camera.

So Mr. Ruckus and I will hold down Fort Alcott. I'll be teaching tomorrow but otherwise have no particular plans, other than a couple of dinners out with friends. I've embarked on a big digging and mulching project in one corner of the yard, and I'll probably do some planting. I'll argue with the squirrels who've been carousing in my flowerpots and biting the heads off my tulips (though thank goodness they are no longer living inside our bedroom wall--a very unpleasant few weeks we had with that, until they decided it wasn't a good nesting site and T was able to board up the hole). I'll read and write and cook for myself and listen to baseball, and I hope I'll do a lot of sleeping, and I know I'll think happily about T being happy. Perhaps it's odd, but we are a pair that thrives on reunions. We like knowing that the other person is out doing something in the world. We like the sensation of being temporarily unyoked. We like sending each other little newsy updates. We like welcoming each other home. These days I'm mostly the one who's on the road and he's mostly the one who's staying home, so switching roles is also tonic. He's glad to be lighting out for the territories. I'm glad to be standing in the dooryard waving the dishtowel.