All these things that have been pressing to do.
And un-pressing things: I bake a peach pie. I pick up thread and buttons for a dress I want to mend. I buy bits and pieces, make CDs to mail to write-a-thon sponsors, mail an encouragingly large stack of them.
I go to lovely brunch with a small group of poets where we ate waffles and fruit and read poems on a balcony overlooking the Sound.
Jim and I walk down to the new neighbourhood deli and pick up dinner.
Then come home and collapse.
For my listening, reading, and writing news and a day from my 1997 trip to Scotland, see Les Semaines.