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On publishing, poetry, and soccer games-- the autumn chill is with us

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Eighteen degrees. Yes, it's clear that autumn has settled in. I'm still working/thinking about a poem that reflects this time of year, and it's eluding me. It's a pretty thing, but that's not what it needs to be-- I need to capture the dark, the darkening. So, it's a draft. Cool. I fuddled my way around signing the contract/agreement for Kelsay for my new book. I hate this whole digital signing thing-- the signature is a messy thing, and does not look at all like my own. Seriously, who could even use it as a justification for anything legal? It looks like a 7 year old scrawled. That said, I had a photo of my actual signature from another time, and I appended it to the reply email as well. I have my pride, I guess.  And so, we wait for the next step. I'm excited, but I'm also resigned-- this process takes a while. I've learned a lot about the world of smallish publishing with my two journeys with Finishing Line Press, and I have a couple of poet frien...

Book #3? How cool is that! Now, to get the paperwork done...

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What a surprise yesterday to get an email from Kelsay Books that they accepted my full-length poetry collection for publication! And I truly mean surprise; I still suffer from imposter syndrome, and it feels like a pity date every time a poem is accepted, let alone my third (!!) book.  I have to slog through the paperwork, sign the contract, and all that biz, but I'll manage that when I get home today. I was just too tired and had too many house chores to do yesterday. I did print off all the material so I could read it carefully, but the whole thing must be submitted digitally. I do not want to mess that up, so I --being old-school/just old-- printed it out so I could fill it out by hand first. No mistakes.  This is a big deal of sorts. And I can't quite wrap my head around it, to be honest. I worked really hard at putting this manuscript together, and I'm still uneasy about the title, but for now, it has found a home. And this time, I don't have to be the book-huckste...

It's Monday, and I have to be a grumpy teacher. Sigh.

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Monday, 26 degrees out, and the sky is wrapped in a magenta and grey bunting. It's pretty, even though it sort of reminds me of the Owens-Corning thick fiberglass insulation. At any rate, it's a colorful start to the day.  The weekend was good, in all the ways it should be. I got a lot done, we had a good time in Tilton, and I got decent sleep at night. Can't complain. This morning, I am jealous, though. G is on vacation this week. I wish I were wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket with a second cup of coffee like he is. That said, it'll be fine. At least when your teaching assignment is high school, you aren't quite as bombarded by the pre-Halloween ecstasies. Usually.  And it's Red Ribbon Week, so we are asked to wear red today. Lucky for me, I unearthed my one red top when I flipped the closet this weekend, so I'm all set. And apparently I have about six pairs of Halloween-themed socks, so I'm going all out. Another bonus of doing the clothing excavation and...

My clothing journey, or what to do when you have too many black socks and can't find pants.

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UP, and it was a night of disappointing dreams. Not quite stress dreams, but things kept being annoying or upsetting. That said, 5:30 came around, and the day looks like it'll warm up past the mid-20s it is at right now. G and I will head to church, then grab a quick breakfast, and head to Tilton for the day. I'm looking forward to it. We don't get to do things like this often, and yes, part of it is the necessary "load up before snow flies" trip to BJs, but still-- a change of scenery with him is going to be a nice thing, I think.  And it's flannel season.  I flipped my closet again yesterday, and put away all short sleeved work clothes. All the light cardigans. The lighter cotton pants. And in their stead are the sweaters, the corduroys, the flannel shirts, of which I have several. I am giving two of them to Meg for "bang around" clothes (she's lost a bunch of weight and they will be too big), because the colors don't work for me/my wardrob...

Busy day ahead-- why do I do that?

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I'm up, a little bleary, but coffee is being consumed. No ill effects other than a stiff/sore upper arm from the double vax, so that's heartening. Yesterday's all-day teachers' conference was much better than I'd thought it would be, and there are a few good ideas I will likely try. Well, one, anyhow. But it was a nice surprise to see a friend/former colleague there, and to spend the day with my current young colleague, too. We get along well, which is the greatest blessing after so many years of duds that were hired to "teach"-- not that I'm the end-all-and-be-all of teachers, but sheesh, what a string of terrible/ ineffective/ unlikeable people. It's been a slog. So, I hope that we are now on an even keel, especially since I'm hoping to work for only (!!) another seven years, if I can manage it. The stress I was under for all those horrid years aged me, I swear. I blame my gastritis issues and sleeplessness in part on having to defend my righ...

quick note and a book recommendation...

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Yeeps it is early. I stayed up to watch the Patriots lose. I knew they likely would, and it wasn't as bad as I'd expected, but ugh. Late night, early morning. I'm off to Plymouth for an all-day teachers' conference (idea sharing...woot). Then, later, having my flu and covid vax. Woot again. Do I know how to party or what?  It's cold, it's dark, but I have coffee and I'm traveling with my young colleague who is a lot of fun to do things with, so it'll be fine. She's driving.  O: book recommendation. I'm reading Atwood's Penelopiad. Damn, it's good. I finished Russo's new book, Under the Falls , and it was fine and dandy, but not as good as Empire Falls . He says it was originally intended to be a pilot for a TV series, and it kind of reads that way. Still, not bad.  I hope your day is glorious. Hold each other close, keep safe, and hang in there.  C

Poetry gathering was great, and students are cacti...

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UP, and it's 27 degrees again. It seems to be a thing. At any rate, it's a thing I must contend with: scraping windows, cold seats. Thankfully, the car has heated seats, so it warms up.  I am grateful for the pellet stove. I am grateful for a husband who gets up for work before me, by choice, and who gets the stove cleaned and going while I finish my sleep (he's up at 4--ugh-- and I tend to get up around 5:15). At any rate, the pellets are a lifesaver. I think the oil heat has only been on once, that we know of. And it's set at 58, so yes, the house got cold enough one night.  The poetry gathering at St Rose was a success! I'm so pleased (and surprised?) that so many people came out to talk about the interconnections among psalms, Mary Oliver, and Wendell Berry. I gave three writing prompts-- impromptu ones!--that worked wonderfully. Such kind, interested people! And those who volunteered to share had written really great things. I'm blessed, I guess.  That all ...