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Time to do one's civic duty--

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Man o man, that hour change. It doesn't usually hit me hard, but it did this time. Maybe because I was a little restless sleeping, too, but yikes. Driving to work in the dark was not pleasant, but hey, the 65 degrees in the afternoon sure was.  Sunlight into the evening is nice, too. And the melting...all the melting. And mud. Well, that's not so great, but it's part of the package deal. Holly came home from school covered and wet, straight through her snow pants and her clothes. Tub time at 3pm. Luckily, I was in process with laundry, so in it all went.  Today is voting day in New Hampshire. In our neck of the woods, we do both the town ballot and the school one on the same day (other towns that still use voice vote tend to split them up to different sessions). I'm sure some folks will pause over a lot of the expenditures; prices of every damned thing are rising, town taxes went up, and yeah...when gas has gone up 69 cents in a week, it's hard to feel magnanimous. ...
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Kids' movies are looking pretty good these days...

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Well, it looks like Monday found me.  This week is going to be a little weird, at least as schedule goes. Today is normal, so there's that. Tuesday, we have students for a half day, PD for the afternoon, and it's also Town Voting day. I will definitely vote. I refuse to not have my opinions recorded. Wednesday, we have an assembly that takes my entire APLit class time. Thursday, hallelujah, and Friday, will be normal.  I'm going to try to schedule a hair cut-- wish me luck.  At least evenings seem to be on track, which is helpful. We'll have Holly every day except for Tuesday, so I will probably cook something for dinner that is not her favorite. There will be green vegetables, anyhow. Crazy kid doesn't like anything green, except bell peppers and grapes. Weird. But she loves the color green, as I'm told. (And purple, pink, and anything rainbow.) She's a riot. We went to see the new Pixar movie, Hoppers . It was definitely a fun movie, and it had a serious m...
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Fun times on the radio, and a few reflections on poetry...

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I spent a little over an hour chatting with Nate Alberts on the radio, talking about poetry and poems. Basically, why we desperately need poems, especially in difficult times. Whether those situations are personal or national/ global, words of inspiration, comfort, or companionship are critical to emotional and spiritual survival. We read poems at the important occasions of our lives: weddings, funerals, graduations, and the like. Why does our society then disparage poets? Poems are survival guides. Shelley said that poets are the "unacknowledged legislators of the world," mainly because they both capture the moments and they question them as well, no matter if the moments are individual or on a broader scale.  I shared a few of my touchstone poems, the ones I turn to when I need to feel a little more centered. One is Keats' "When I Have Fears," another is Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese," and the last I shared is Wendell Berry's "The Peace of W...
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Saturday--slowly getting going, and that's perfect

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It's Saturday, and I have a busy afternoon ahead. I say afternoon, because I am declaring the morning a "half day off"-- I am enjoying that idea immensely. I got up when I heard a huge booming crash. I thought someone had backed into the house. But no, near as we can figure, it was a huge chunk of ice coming off the roof. It's been a few days of melting, so that would not surprise me at all. Well, it did surprise me, woke me right up, but you know what I mean. So I came downstairs all a-flutter, and once no casualties were discovered, I went to my recliner and napped. Nice.  So, it's 8 am, and I'm just now getting a cup of coffee. Also nice. I'll rally soon, but for now, it's quiet and I'm content. G has a later shift today, so he's still poking around, too, but he'll be leaving shortly for work. This is nice for him; normally he's on the road by 5:45. But because he's closing, we'll have a late dinner, and it gives me a long st...
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Snow melting! Books!

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Friday, and the snow is melting apace. Now, I'm not so crazy as to think we are out of the clutches of winter just yet, but I was cheered to see high 50s. My front walk is more than "puddle wonderful"-- it's a slushy lake. So, boots can't quite do the job entirely, and wet socks are a reality. But it's melting! I'm studiously refraining from any direct commentary about all things national and global. Suffice it to say, I'm glad we won't be seeing any more cos-play Barbie outfits for a while. But now, we have an honest-to-goodness cage match fighter. Makes you wonder why the college degrees were necessary sometimes.  There's enough horror, destruction, and degradation to go around. It's hard to know where to look, what to get outraged about, and what to do about anything at all. Gas prices jumped 30 cents in three days around here, and heating oil is ratcheting up. Winter can't end fast enough for me; we just bought another ton of pellet...
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Media blitz? Well, drizzle?

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Well, I guess I am in the midst of a micro-media-blitz! The announcement about my radio chat dropped yesterday, and in this morning's paper, there's a (shortened/edited) news release about my little book #2. I'll take it. I dislike the sense of blasting out my own whatever-- some weird self-aggrandizement that I honestly don't feel-- so it's good to get the media hype, even this tiny bit. We'll leave it at that for now.  And today, it's neither below zero or snowing at the moment. And it's not even dark. Imagine that.  I'm not yet feeling springing, but yesterday's mid-40s temps melted a lot of snow. The puddles are deep, to be sure. We lost about a foot, including the new layer, by mid-day.  And so it goes. My eyes are healing, I did get a slight cold to go with the ignominy of it all, but the coffee is hot and I'm thinking about breakfast. Eating food at this ungodly hour is a discipline in and of itself, but alas, I must.  Have a good day,...
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Deadlines make me angsty

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Y'know, it's pretty darn stressful trying to birth a book amid global and national chaos.  Since Finishing Line Press is a small operation, they have a pre-sales quota that authors must meet in order for them to publish the book, and to be honest, that is the most stressful part of the whole process. I'm trying not to panic; there's still a month until the deadline. And likely, I'll just buy copies to fill out the quota, and sell them locally. But still. It's one little nagging thing, right? Sales are a lot slower this time around, and I hope that people are not just sick of my little poems and they are only clapping politely. (Imposter syndrome rears its ugly head.) And I *hate* reminding folks about the deadline, even though people are so kind and they will probably order a copy-- but sigh, the deadline. Sigh again. ( It's April 3 ) Anyhow, maybe the press release I sent to the papers will get published. And maybe people will listen to the chat on the Nort...
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