Days like this are great - a big blank square on the calendar, just home. I'm not talking about do-nothing days: my brain has that manufacturer flaw - no on/off switch. I am in the middle of so many projects, books, magazines, writings, ideas.
Today I've got a tall stack of student essays to go through. By now I can hear their voices when I read their work. Their writing is insightful and interesting, with the occasional amusing textual mishap, like escape goats and an unfinnished draft.
But the home part is that I can put on my scruffiest clothes, sit in my soft-back chair in the room that's most full of light, drink coffee and mint tea all day, break for apples and granola, turn on the space heater when it's chilly and damp like today.
Sometimes I get caught and end up making an unexpected run to the store dressed like a rummage sale. But if I've planned it right, I won't have to leave the house at all. I wouldn't want too many solitary days, but I wouldn't want too little either.