OK, home at last. Nobody here but Boris.
This–I mean, after a couple weeks’ absence–is when you get to find out what your house smells like to strangers. Answer: A not unpleasing melange of house plants, carpet shampoo, and Boris.
Way behind on email. Mountain of snail mail. Magazine deadline this pm. Back lawn out of control. (Kind neighbor did front lawn–thanks, Jim.) Nose to grindstone.