A Nice Day

Sometimes saying you had "a nice day" isn't a platitude or just an end-run around the disappointing details you know no one is interested in hearing. Sometimes it means exactly what it says. I had a nice day today. Slept well, got up not too early, had a proper Maine June breakfast - bagels, smoked Maine salmon, local strawberries. (Okay, so maybe the bagels and lox reveal it to be a proper suburban Portland June breakfast.) From nine to noon Tristan and I joined Brian Danz and the local NEMBA crew building some new singletrack in West Falmouth. Tristan had such a sense of pride at his contribution, he zipped out into the woods behind our house after lunch and started raking out a new trail. (He did come in after a half hour or so and reported that "it's a lot harder when you're all by yourself.") I hung a mirror and some shades in the guest room. Grilled some sausages the old-fashioned way, on a little charcoal grill. Parsleyed egg noodles and fresh peas and some inexpensive wine that really understood me, notwithstanding my profound snobbishness. Bit of unapologetic Facebooking. A nice day.