I've been at my parents' house, compulsively snacking, for almost forty-eight hours. Yesterday we played tennis. And by "played tennis," I mean, my parents hit balls at us and Hattie and I kind of made a lazy effort to return them. I hit five balls out of the court. "Home run!" I said. As in bowling, I have a strong arm and zero aim.
I'm deep in Anna Karenina. I took a Woodstock beach towel out to the backyard earlier, and read in the sun for a couple hours. Then I painted my nails. I'm on my favorite kind of vacation schedule, which is allowing for as few plans and as much lesiurely reading time as possible. I feel I've earned it, after dedicating my life to small children for months.