Yesterday was a pretty bad day. In the morning, when I was in the garden trying to beat the heat before retreating to my desk, I thought I heard a meow. So I crossed the street to investigate and discovered Jack's body in the bushes.

That darkened the day, and the Senate darkened the day, and then last night a bat flew into our bedroom, with chaos ensuing, forcing T and me to hunt for what little sleep we could get on couches downstairs. T did leave the bedroom window open and the door shut, hoping that the bat would find his way out . . . which we thought he had, until I pulled up the shade this morning and the bat fell on my shoulder.

It's a good thing the neighbors all have their air conditioners running because they would surely have heard my bloodcurdling shriek and assumed that a terrible crime was taking place.

But the bat did fly out through the window, and T thinks he's finally figured out where they've been getting in and will patch it tonight. So that's a speck of good news.

Today I'm going up to Bowdoin to rehearse for the Monson performance, and I'll squeeze in various chores around the edges--garden, house, groceries, packing. Yesterday I did manage to get the bulk of the editing project done, despite the Jack tragedy. Still, I'm tireder than I'd like to be, and sad, and angry, and still kind of freaked out about having a bat fall on me.