This morning there was snow; it's gone now.

The folks and the in-laws came to visit at the same time a couple weeks ago, and left at the same time.

The cardio rehab program is over; I continue to go to the hospital gym three times a week, and bike to work twice a week.

Did I mention that I got a new bike?

Saw a woman with impossibly thin fingers playing guitar—very well—and singing; I should get her CD.

Somebody maybe saw a bear near the house, but not me.

We're moving from the giant place in the country to a tiny apartment in town.

A couple teenage girls asked for the time on Main Street. I told them. Then they asked where the river was; I told them how to get to the river. One of them said, as they turned, "You have awesome hair." I thought that was much better than "Hip-peh! HIP-PEH!"

Took in a talk during the Brattleboro Literary Festival by John Irving, during which he said, "If you want to write short sentences, write ad copy."

This evening, I watched through the wavy-glassed windows at a group holding hands and walking in a circle, chanting at the bottom of the driveway on our dead-end dirt road; listening, I was barely able to make out, "Ring around the rosey, a pocket full of posey."