I'm glad to report that Chuck's gut troubles are easing. The poor guy came home from the kennel with diarrhea--not at all the fault of the kennel owner, I'm sure, but more likely a flareup of his chronic intestinal issues. You may recall our battle with Giardia last fall, and how I was cleaning the litterbox ten times a day and chasing the kitten around the house with wet wipes. Young Charles has improved a lot since those days but has never been perfect. Now, with the relapse, I've been focusing on not letting him get dehydrated and trying to get his gut bacteria back on the job. And he's so much better! I'm feeling quite proud of myself, and also very happy we haven't had to rack up another vet bill.

This afternoon I'll head north for an overnight in Monson, so T will have to deal with the Chuck regimen. And this morning I'll be shipping an editing project, going for a walk with a friend, catching up on conference paperwork, and fidgeting around with various this-and-that tasks. I did get the housework done yesterday and am more or less caught up with travel laundry, etc. Funny how long it takes to settle back into the rhythm of household chores.

I'd like to settle back into a writing rhythm too, but that hasn't happened yet. Of course the trip to Florida was all about making new work as a collective, and the Bangor presentation was all about helping other, possibly reluctant people make new work, but neither was about the private me as a poet. I'd like to think that I can find some space next week, but who knows.

In the meantime, I'm rereading one of my very favorite books, Elizabeth Bowen's The Heat of the Day. And possibly this head cold is improving. And this weekend I'm going to buy some garden seeds.