No riding to the market this morning — it’s pouring and will rain all day. Good for the garden, and good for work. I’m proofing the Midlife Solo manuscript and meeting with my young tech guru. After a few glitches, the book is once again on its way.

Thursday, again to soccer camp with the boys, once more celebrating the diversity of size, ability, and ethnic origin on the field, and the fact that Eli’s team, losing at half time, roared back to score four goals. Or whatever they’re called. As he played, I noticed Ben mesmerized at the edge of the field — watching a group of East Indian men play cricket in the school yard next door.

Later, a lesson in parenting. For Xmas two years ago, I gave Eli a dwarf hamster, whom he named Nugget and has tended with love. But hamsters only live two years, and Nugget isn’t as feisty as he was; Anna is afraid he’s sinking, and that day he was particularly quiet. She told Eli, gently but honestly, that Nugget’s time is limited. The tall boy dissolved into tears, held tight by his mother and then his Glamma. Nugget has a small plastic box to give him a change of scene, and so we put him in there so Eli could spend time with him; both, happily, revived. Those moments of tenderness and compassion, especially needed for boys, we hope will resonate for a lifetime.

That night, at home and exhausted, I turned on the TV and saw beautiful Italian interiors; it turned out to be a fascinating chronicle  of the life and times of Gianni Agnelli, wealthy Italian industrialist, head of Fiat and national icon. A fascinating story, a Greek — no, Italian — tragedy, a magnificent man who cared deeply for his company’s workers and his country but not his own son, whose death by suicide devastated his father. The Italians are surely the most beauty conscious of any nation. Everything in the film, every interior, almost every person, was beautiful.

Yesterday, dear Ken treated me to a birthday lunch on Church Street and we talked about where we oldsters will end up living, a subject a bit closer to Ken’s heart than mine. Yet.  73, coming down the pike. Hooray!