Ithaca is dating

Is this a good idea? Plus: Send me a letter.

We’ll be dining on this for years!

The wood chips on the playground, across which my black dog is now trotting, call to mind my Oregon forest childhood—fir trees way up high in the blue sky, dark pitch-redolent shadows down below, carpenter ants, crows cawing, time stretching slowly.

A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you anything good. B…