Weeknotes: June 8–13, 2026
I waited too long to start my run. It's 5:30, and the air is stifling as I head up Forest toward campus. On Lowell, a green Subaru beeps acknowledgment. It's Annie. Her birthday was yesterday. A mile later on Hamilton, two musicians, tenor sax and drums, play hard bop through an open window. East down Spring, and over the bridge past Huron Landing, I detour to avoid a family of geese on the sidewalk, their five goslings still in fuzzy adolescence.
The peppy chiptune announcement of an ice cream truck looms behind me. As the driver pulls abreast, he leans out his window and hollers "Whassuuuup!" I'm tempted to flag him down — maybe I could stick my head in his freezer. When I catch up with him at the intersection of Prospect and Cross, his speaker begins playing Beethoven's “Für Elise.”
Home is a relief. I sit at my table with a towel around my neck eating cold watermelon. Out the kitchen window, my 12-year-old neighbor feeds bread crusts to a mallard who has wandered into our driveway.
Weeknotes: May 19–24, 2025
Monday, May 19
I reach for the clutch, but it's not there. I'm back in my automatic Hyundai. I had just gotten used to driving a manual transmission again and forgot how much I enjoyed it. I've scheduled a buffer day to recover from my vacation. I'll log in to work tomorrow, but today is for catching up on personal affairs.
I feel the rejuvenation that good travel brings. I'm happier with a more optimistic outlook and a heightened creative fervor I haven't felt all year. I hope I can make it last. When I got home yesterday afternoon my neighbor had mowed my lawn. If you are lucky enough to live next to good people, your life will be infinitely easier. My morning glory seedlings survived, but I missed the rest of the purple irises and most of the lilies of the valley. The giant pink irises are in full bloom, though, and the peonies are getting close.
I drive my brother and his girlfriend to the airport, returning the favor he did for me last week. They're off to Maine for a week of birds, lighthouses, and coastal wandering.