A sleepy, sultry Sunday summer morning in North Carolina. No chores, no gym, no Zoom meetings, no obligations. In terms of indolence, it doesn’t get any better. A little bit of fog, as expected for this time of year; it would burn off by midmorning, leaving that shockingly blue Carolina sky punctuated by popcorn cumulus. The sun itself was still just a hazy orange orb peeking between the pines. Perfect for banging the plane around the patch, knocking the rust of my skills. At least, that was the plan. What actually happened was Plan B.\
