Saturday

It has been a properly slow Saturday here at the house. A morning meeting, some tennis with Z, lunch, a nap, some reading. Making my way through McPhee's Coming Into the Country, a 1977 book about Alaska. I had bought a copy of it for Natalie in Breckenridge at the used book store there, but then it disappeared into the maw of her library when we transported her back from New Haven. So I bought another copy (for a mere $3) at the marvelous Circle City Books and Music in Pittsboro last Saturday when I went down there to get the fuck out of the house.

As anticipated, it is really nice to have Mary home. Last night after dinner we ended up sitting together on the couch first with my arm around her, then just leaning on one another when my arm started going to sleep. I think even she missed me, though she is not given to expressions of longing when not applied to the children.

Unfortunately, now I have to cook dinner.