Just a short post this morning. I didn’t rise until nearly noon today after staying up half the night watching the first four episodes of Veronica Mars, a show for teens that features a surly high-school detective and her misadventures with a pack of rich kids and a local biker gang. I was looking for something to stream on Netflix before going to bed, and was reminded of a positive review for Veronica Mars on NPR from a few years back. It’s nicely done. Good storytelling, and the lead actress, Kristen Bell (also of Heroes fame), is incredibly appealing. Once I started watching, I couldn’t stop. My present vulnerable emotional state makes me more prone to admit things that I might otherwise keep to myself.

I guess my brain needed a break from yesterday’s record writing haul. I finally caught my stride, making major contributions to four new stories, finishing working drafts of two, and revising my Alaska essay into something approaching final shape. If I had been this productive from the first day of my sabbatical, I would have written the great American novel by now. Or at least the good American novel. Or at least a novel written in America.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s day of letter writing. I’ll repeat my offer. If you comment on this post and write me an email with your mailing address, I will write you a letter tomorrow. And I’ll send it to you in the mail. It’s ok if we don’t know each other. In many ways, I consider the prospects of writing to a stranger a more intriguing challenge. But perhaps you’re too busy eating hot dogs and waving sparklers to check in this weekend.

For those of you in my current queue, I wonder what I’ll have to say to you tomorrow. Be prepared for lengthy observations on the monkish life. I have little else to offer these days.

In case you are hoping for a photo (I know I need one right about now), here you go.

The Fourth is always a day of major celebration on the tundra. If the fishing schedule allows, people from all along the beach gather for a massive pot-luck featuring everything from casseroles to Akutaq (pronounced a-GOO-duk), or Eskimo “ice cream” made from seal oil and berries.

After the pot luck, people gather along the bluff to watch Pyro Dave (who works as a demolitions expert in the off season) dramatically explode drums of fuel or boxes of black powder. It’s one of the highlights of the season (to give you a sense of the lack of other entertainment to be found in Coffee Point).

Here’s a video from a few years back, if you care to partake.

This afternoon, I’m heading off with friends to a crab feast and fireworks of the more traditional kind. But it’s nice to be able picture what my family is up to today.