No Portland No Cry

I am not leaving for Portland today. We will not drop in on Laura and Chris and Gigi, who are on vacation by the ocean. I did not call Louise or Suzanne or Fred to ask if we could crash there tonight. We will not follow up on a rare-bird sighting (little egret!). We will not check into the hotel tomorrow night, and Monday and Tuesday will dawn—a little earlier than Vermont—without Tim’s professional presence. I will not get a whiff of salt air. Our wide-open baby-bird mouths will not grace the hot new dining spots.

Lobster rolls remain unwolfed. Oysters yet survive unslurped.