. . . Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night be too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'

Excerpt from Robert Frost, Acceptance

Wintry rain and the brook is a lovely swirl of bare-branched trees. Before I’m even out of bed a helper is here to work on the master bedroom clean-up. The day is a bluster of persons in and out. The fire chief here, I shake his hand, give him many thanks, much praise. So much gratitude. He is quite proud of their response time; and should be! Frank is busy with all the comings and goings. I have two clients and handle some e-mails. My poem, “August, Old Brickyard, Chilmark,” is published in On the Seawall today, and I am very pleased and gratified. Makes my day. Even though I had a good, long walk with the special one and dogs, I crave a run in the afternoon; a break from sitting. So, I drive to the high school track and take a three-mile run. I needed that. I listen to the This American Life Podcast, a re-run of David Sedaris’s Santaland Diaries; have heard it many times, as they re-play it year to year; and it’s still laugh out loud funny. I needed that, too.