What happens here stays here. But nothing ever really happens.

After a terrific weekend in Maine and New Hampshire with Josh and James and Geof and Pat and Marina and Nathan and Steve and Julie (cousins and uncle and aunt) J, J, and I stopped in Harvard to say hi to my parents (grave) and to grab some lunch at the Harvard General Store (for the first time since it has an actual place to eat since I was a kid, when it had a lunch counter, but since lost it in a long and dull story having to do with town sewer). At lunch, we got to see Sue and Worth and Billy—who all work or live right in the center of town.  The weather was perfect, the company divine, and just before we left, we dashed back in to buy Josh a coffee for the road, and that's when I saw them. New T-shirts and sweatshirts. I am not much of an impulse shopper, and lord knows I am not a T-shirt buyer. But I just loved this, and decided that in the spirit of pure and selfish joy, this was going to provide again and again. Harvard. What happens here stays here. But nothing ever really happens.