Frank is awake, preparing to depart. I get up to visit before he leaves, and I have some early work to do once he does. Today I need to finish revising and submit the craft article on erasure that I submitted to a Canadian literary journal that requested a re-write. Told them they’d have it today. Meanwhile, the boy wakes and wants to exercise with me (join me on my walk). So we go off to climb hills and visit brooks and swamps and find any blackberries that might still be ripe on a vine. A dozen or so, with my very good eye, I find for him. Some quite small, but delicious anyway, and he gobbles them up. Then we hurry home so I can see my client. Two clients today, both working on interesting writing. This evening, it’s the night before back to Montessori pre-school tomorrow. It’s bubbles he wants with me. There is a very fine rain falling on us after I blow bubble after bubble for him to catch. I lose track of time. His mother comes to get him for bed before it’s dark. What a summer we’ve had to remember. My article goes off before dinner. I’m pleased with it. I wasn’t psyched to hear they wanted a rewrite, and I wasn’t highly motivated to do it. But I enjoyed it, and it’s much better and I look forward to their response, which could be anything, but I hope it’s one of approval. In the background the news is on. I’m worried about loved ones in the Tampa area. Frank’s father was due to fly here tomorrow to join Frank for their annual weekend of tennis. Flights canceled, of course. My dear friend has also evacuated up the coast. I wish everyone in Florida safety and comfort during this terrible, impending storm.