Several important events have happened today.

1. Poem comes out of the manuscript. This is the shaggy manuscript that hardly anyone has read. I was recently reading this manuscript on a plane, making notes on the poems, thinking of alternative sequences, acting the part of a poet with my pen in hand, when I happened upon a short poem, just eight lines, in couplets. I got immediately overcome with the tedium of my task, closed the manuscript, and turned to some other activity, like thinking about how much I wanted to get off that plane.

Fast forward three weeks. I have the manuscript open, I'm making notes, considering my previous notes, etc. etc., when I come upon the same short poem. And was immediately overcome with the tedium of the task, closed the manuscript, and turned to some other activity, like "lying on my bed" without the distraction of "editing."

That poem is outta there.

2. My camera is in the mail. A few days ago, I started getting a glitchy shutter and an error code on my camera. WOE. After googling the matter, the consensus seemed to be that I had to send it to the factory. Across the country. To be fixed. WOE. So now I am waiting with bated breath for the healing to begin.

3. I have fully contemplated and comprehended the depths of my indolence. It is deep, the people. Deep.

4. Granola that you have made yourself is an all-purpose snack. That is all.

After the shouting.

This week, after the departure of my brother and his family from the region, and after my folks came down from the mountain, aka their condo up in Park City, I have accomplished the following:

• saw The Dark Knight again (with singing son)
  
• mailed my manuscript to a friend who very kindly offered to read it and give me advice
• saw The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2: The Streets (with make-up artist daughter)
• read three novels
• took several naps
• made cookies
• cooked lots of vegetables
• sat outside in my chair to observe the morning
• taken daily morning walks with Bruiser
• bought a beautiful yellow shirt
• bought purple moccasins at Target, which, according to The Sartorialist, everyone is wearing (although the ones on the blog aren't from Target)
• had lunch with make-up artist daughter, her husband, and the darling grandson
• rode my bike to the post office and the bank
• saw Pineapple Express tonight with the historian
  

It has been, in other words, quite a wonderful week. It's the kind of week that could persuade one that ambition is for suckers.

This morning, when I was walking Bruiser, listening to Le Fil (Camille) on my little shuffle, the sky was trying to make up its mind about raining or not. The whole time, it sprinkled, and I had a wonderful feeling, made up of equal parts of pleasure in the coolness and the music, a sense of physical well-being, and a measure of unspecified nostalgia, maybe as a result of the fact that it's late summer. Something about the weather also made me feel a change in the air--though there will still be plenty of sun and plenty of heat.

Maybe I'll figure out a way to make a poem of that, maybe not. But right now, I have to get back to my novel.