Cicadas creak in the darkness. The air is heavy, heavy, and finally we seem to have real rain on the way, forecast to start mid-morning and continue into the evening. It's hard to believe in it, but I am hoping.

Today will be another long desk day. At least I am making progress, and maybe I'll find a chance to step briefly back into my own work. I've been reading Lori Ostlund's short story collection The Bigness of the World, and that has been a respite: it's a very good collection, and now I am eager to track down other books. I discovered her in a Best American Short Stories volume I picked off the street, and these other stories are, for the most part, just as good as the first one I read.

Late yesterday afternoon I baked homemade hamburger rolls and then, before starting dinner, a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Tom was out at a meeting so while I was cooking I had a little private dance party, cranking my "Happy" playlist to eleven and bouncing around the kitchen. A bit of joyful noise is always a good idea. I should do it more often.

And I rode my bike in the morning, and today I'll grunt through my exercise class . . . I am reading, I am writing, I am hugging the wicked cat . . . I am trying hard to keep my carapace shiny, my heart bumptious, my brain astringent. Staying eager is such hard work.

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FYI: I want to remind you of an upcoming Frost Place Studio Session, led by poet, athlete, and environmental activist Ian Ramsey. "The Path of Poetry: Words and Practices to Carry Us through Challenging Times" is a short, inexpensive, Saturday-afternoon gathering that will focus on poetry as way to care for ourselves and others. It's open to anyone, at any level of experience. I hope you can join us: August 27, 1-3:30 p.m. ET, via Zoom.