Tuesday, August 29, 2017

It's another cool morning in Maine. The little sailboats moored in the bay all point their noses toward the west, as if they're a herd of cows grazing in a field. Cars swish up and down the streets, and a woman strolls along the sidewalk with a cat slung over her arm.

Son Number 2 came home last night and immediately devoured most of a pan of lasagna. Tom has taken to calling him Twelve Thousand Calorie Boy. I guess canoeing for a thousand miles gives you a certain amount of leeway in food intake.

Today the compost people will be delivering my truckload of soil, but instead of raking out garden beds I will be at the mall (ugh) trying to figure out if we can get Twelve Thousand Calorie Boy's phone repaired before he goes back to college.

One of these days I will be a poet again.

1 comment:

David (n of 49) said...

The sentence about the placid little sailboats for some reason reminded me of the one about the sheep David Copperfield sees from his window. There are worse ways to start a day. Thanks. :)