The only thing worse than a wet dog ...

... is a wet dog that's gone. Marley was quite wet when he came in from his early morning visit to the back yard. before he and Sandra left at 4:30 to pick up Mike and head on to the day of travel.

So, Marley's on his way to summer camp. He'll have a good time, chasing the herons on the beach, chasing the whatevers in the fields and woods, absconding with Woody's glasses case. He'll be good company for Woody and Marian and they for him.

How many dogs do you know who ike balsamic vinaigrette?

As I write, the travelers are on the Maine Turnpike. Sandra will call me when they get to the Confederation Bridge. There's a chance that I might get to see them as they travel o'er.

Earlier this week, Prince Edward Island decided, in a move that was both tragic and milk-through-the-nose funny, to reduce the hours of its suicide hotline to regular business hours - 9-5, Monday through Friday. (Dunno about holidays.) "We care. Leave a message." Anyway, the province has relented and restored 24-hour coverage.

For me, today is just a day at work. I'll work from home tomorrow morning and then tend to some things at my college's reunion weekend tomorrow and Saturday afternoon. Tomorrow night I'll stay at home, Saturday night at the camp. It sounds like a busy time, hard to believe as I sit in a house that's very, very quiet.