Since the last time I wrote here:

• Gasoline prices have fallen from 180⁹ to a low of 116⁹.
• The wheat has gone from green waves to amber, and now to a khaki stubble.
• Wild turkeys have seemed more abundant than crows.
• Joshua has flown to Utah to visit the girlfriend and to camp at Moab. His flight home was delayed, so he couldn't get home in time to depart with the family for Virginia. Instead, he slept at the airport after his arrival in Kansas City, and the mom picked him up there on the way to Virginia. His younger siblings voted against picking him up, but they were vetoed.
• The family has journeyed to Virginia to enroll the firstborn at the university he has chosen for his second year.

  At their journey's farthest reach, they camped at First Landing State Park on the coast, where they wet their toes in the Atlantic for the first time. They returned from their journey with shells, T-shirts, small shampoos and soaps, a Gideon's Bible, a phone book from Morehead, Kentucky, and an appreciation for the new AC/DC TV/VCR combination for the van.

  (While they were away, I remained behind to work and to keep the home fires grilling sirloin, ribeye, and porterhouse.)

• I have journeyed for a day into Kansas City where I worshipped briefly at St. Barnes & Noble on the Plaza. I replaced Desert Solitaire, a book I'd given to a friend, and I replaced a copy of James Wright's collected poems, a volume that (having forgotten that a book lent is a gift) I had lent to a friend. I also bought a volume of criticism to help anchor the Wright poetry to my shelves.

  I bought two volumes of James Carver's short stories. Having gorged myself happily on one, I have wondered if just the one wouldn't have been enough, but I am a sucker for the gritty promise of his titles: Will You Please Be Quiet, Please? and What We Talk About When We Talk About Love.

  I returned home from KC in time to dash into the house ahead of a hail storm. The Metro remained outside beneath its elm and suffered the hail. The insurance company's estimate of the car's damage is $1059. Although that seems high to me, it is lower than it might have been if I hadn't agreed to some newfangled, paintless method of repairing the dings.

• I resubscribed to a newspaper and rediscovered the pleasure of a venerable technology. In early June, a young man (part of a troupe from Kansas City who canvassed the town) came to the door selling subscriptions to the Kansas City Star. I like the paper. Although it's a standard Knight-Ridder product, the Star has a few writers worth following. Joe Posnanski on the sports pages comes to mind immediately. But I can read it online.

  "What about coupons?" the young man asked.

  "Online," I replied.

Rain began to fall, and he asked if he could sit it out under the cover of our front porch. I allowed him to remain.

A few minutes later, the rain was still falling. I checked to see if he was still there. He was. And for reasons that remain unclear to me � but which I do not regret � I changed my mind and wrote a check for a three-month subscription (which I'll probably renew in September).

• Because of my desultory attention to my nutrition but despite my daily exercise, when I bought some new khakis earlier this month I discovered that my waistline benefits from an additional inch of fabric. My height remains unchanged.
• I have enjoyed Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, but I have delighted in the essays in Kathleen Norris' Dakota: A Spiritual Geography.
• The two hermit crabs that we adopted from the high school over two years ago � Evil Knievel and The Shy Guy � succumbed to whatever hermit crabs succumb to. Ennui, I think.
• Taylor has earned his open-water scuba certification and has grown more beautiful.
• Owen has grown taller and more beautiful.
• For a few minutes one day, Joshua was less choleric, a temporary change in behavior that might presage an end to his adolescent angst and anger. He, too, has grown more beautiful.
• Finally, I have spent the second week of this month at my school's main campus in central Kansas, where I enjoyed a good week with colleagues learning methods to engage students in the creation of multimedia projects, and where I enjoyed gorging myself at the company's trough. While there, I also spent many free hours visiting the Cheyenne Bottoms Wilderness Area nearby. Snapshots to follow in the fullness of time.

Reading: A translation from Spanish of Burning Patience by Antonio Skarmeta, the novel behind the film Il Postino, and a wonderful, brief read.

Watching: The Postman. Jeez, Costner!