Weeknotes: April 13–17, 2026
Monday, April 13
An early spring balm has seeped into the room. My jeans, left overnight on the chair, have a clamminess I associate with deep summer. Outside the open window everything is busy living, expanding, rising. On Saturday, I raked the perimeter of the house, pruning the overgrown sage bush, clearing debris, and pulling up endless bunches of yard garlic. I even mowed the lawn, mostly to mulch the thousands of accumulated twigs.
After my A.M. class, I work at my desk, watching the mercury on my window thermometer climb to 80°. I can’t help but feel like I'm missing out on the season. April 13, and I'm already panicking like it's mid-August.
Back by the fence, I trim back the raspberry bushes and clear old pots from the abandoned garden. I never know what to do with this area. Last year it was a half-baked sculpture garden. I was given a sack of wildflower seeds for my birthday — maybe I’ll till the weedy soil and scatter them. The lilies of the valley are sending up their tiny spears and a single red tulip has bloomed, hidden behind a thorny barberry bush.
Around 8:30, a thunderstorm marches in. Not a lot of rain, but noisy and theatrical. Nick and I stand on our porches, barefoot, talking across the driveway.
Weeknotes: April 14–18, 2025
Monday, April 14
Islay lifts her sweet face and peers over at me from her end of the couch. I lean over to hug her and she gives a few contented snorts before re-composing her limbs into an endearing tangle across her dog bed. I've promised myself I'll take her camping again this summer. It's been six or seven years since she slept in a tent and gave me the worst poison ivy rash I've ever had. We'll have to stay vigilant, but I want to make sure she gets more adventures outside our neighborhood. How many summers does a little dog have?
I ran my six mile route earlier in the day and it inspired a mood of supreme confidence and ambition which I haven't felt in a while. Those rare triumphal runs make all the ordinary everyday runs feel like part of a greater plan you knew you had in you all along. In my head I plotted out my next four marathons, one each month in a different city. I'll train harder for these races than I ever have before, all while going to school, working full-time, and recording a new project. What's more, I'll manage to shave 25 minutes off my PR and finally qualify for Boston. No problem. I carried this ambition back to my doorstep, inhaling the spring's first pollen, certain my strength of conviction would last.