It’s Sunday night, June 1. I have packed my worldly possessions for the Great Trek south tomorrow morning, I’ve cooked a nice meal for my family, and now I sit in my backyard by the fire, blogging and thinking.

I’m alone, because it is 9:00 and I fear it is too late to call anyone to see if they’d like to come sit and drink with me. I know that’s wrong. I know at least one Lichtenbergian is sitting at home, wondering if there is fire and drink to be had anywhere in the Society, but I fear rejection. Sorry, guys.

I’ve watched Patagonia go up in flames, I may have mentioned that I weeded a couple hundred books from my collection at school: 25-year-old treatises on various countries that were above K-5 reading level anyway, and now wood is joining the fire.

Brief interlude, in which I have gone across the street because the neighbor lady’s young dog has been hit by a car. It is dead. Grayson and I have dug a grave for the poor thing, after assuring its owner that it is actually dead. I had just actually met the dog this afternoon, although it has been living there for at least a month after having taken up with the neighbor. Bless everyone’s heart. It is something of a mystery to put a still-warm being into a bag.

I have a new blog to read, World on Ice, written by my old friend Robyn Ice, an attorney in NYC. It was she who, years ago in the UGA costume shop, who first figured out there was something between Miss Henninger and myself and who asked about the nature of that relationship. I told her I was not sure what Miss Henninger felt, but I was certain that she was The One. “Then go and get her,” Robyn said. And so I did.

Robyn’s still-young blog sounds just like her: literate, warm, charming, witty. So far, it seems to be a lot about the great mysteries of being a Grown-Up. How did we get here, and how do we keep fooling the rest of the world?

I was going to bid on another Utilikilt on Ebay, but I missed it in being called to deal with the dog. Oh well. I should know by now that I should just order a new one and be done with it. (Although the model I was bidding on does not seem to be available right now from utilikilts.com.)

As I try to seal off my life here and get out of town for the summer, Jeff Bishop has written me asking me to contribute heavily to his article about the history of musicals in Newnan. I don’t like musicals. That’s why we did them only every other year, and why we never did the Top 10. But I’ll write something nice for public consumption.

Yes, I’m rambling, but it’s been a long day and I am coming to a point.

Here’s the point: tomorrow I drive to Valdosta to perform my duties as the assistant program director for the Georgia Governor’s Honors Program. All the data we have indicates that we are not bragging when we joke that we’re the best summer gifted experience around. If we’re the best in the U.S., then more than likely we’re the best in the world. And I’m the person with the most direct influence on what goes on in the classroom. I love this.

So other than working from 6:00 a.m. until 11:30 p.m. for six weeks, what do I hope to accomplish? Here’s a list:

• Write two or three more songs for Day in the Moonlight.
• Revamp “Sir Christémas” to include tabor and crotales along with organ.
• Revamp my old handbell arrangment of “Come, Jeannette, Isabela” for the Welcome Christmas competition. It dawned on me to try to reverse the instrumentation: rather than handbell choir and soprano solo, turn the handbells into wordless voices and the soprano into French horn, the required accompaniment this year. It could work.
• Take another look at IV. Lento. Since my work with Craig, I’ve actually had a couple of insights. So far it’s all mental. Let’s see if I can turn them into reality.
• Take a poke at my suite for double bass.

And of course there’s the Lichtenbergian/Lacuna production of Coriolanus. So far, so interesting.

Does anyone have anything else they’d like me to work on?