In the old days, in Harmony, I used to start a fire in the wood stove as soon as I got out of bed and then start the coffee on the kitchen range. But in town I've lost the fire-is-the-center-of-my-life habit. So this morning I fumbled around a bit, trying to do both tasks at once. I figured things out, though, and now I am drinking hot coffee and watching flames catch in the kindling, and outside rain is pattering against the windows, and this is exactly how a wet October morning in Maine ought to start.

This wood stove isn't big enough to combat real winter weather; I'll have to revert to the furnace soon enough. But in these transitional seasons, it's perfect, and we've got plenty of firewood, so at least on the days I'm working from home, a morning fire makes sense. Besides, it is so extremely pleasant. Why not wake up to beauty?

Yesterday was restorative: a slow waking, an unstructured day. In the afternoon T went out to visit with some acquaintances, and I thought of coming along too, but suddenly my introvert buzzer went off and I realized that I needed at least one day when I wasn't in a classroom or a reading or a writing group--a day to be comfortably unsociable, keeping myself to myself, storing up energy for this week's onslaught of publicity.

So, instead, I brought in fresh parsley and mint and hung them in the back room to dry. I took down the already dry basil and packed it into a mason jar. I baked a walnut cake. I sat by the fire and read about King Philip's War. I went for a walk and then, later, another walk. I roasted two small whole mackerel with preserved lemons and fresh oregano. I roasted kale and potatoes and made a tomato, feta, and mint salad. I tried to stay away from screens and rest my weary eyes. It was a quiet day, homebound, slowly busy, and I tried to make the most of it.

Because today I am back in the thick of things: first, prepping hard for tonight's book launch; then switching over to an editing project that has been languishing . . . a day of cranking out work, making sure I get onto my exercise mat, taming my nerves, babying my eyes--in short, putting myself together for a show.

Here's the link again, should you be interested--7 p.m. this evening. The event will run like a webinar, I'm told, so I won't be able to see your faces, though I will see a list of attendees. 

Talk to you tomorrow, on the other side.