Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

Half day at school-- ostensibly, to get grades caught up and so on, but also to allow for folks to go to the playoff game (boys) that is way down on the bottom of the state--they are headed to Epping. I may try to watch the livestream.  This all means I'm out at noon. Which, to be honest, is going to be great. I have been too busy of late, and a little time --yes, merely an extra hour-- is more than welcome. Add to that, I've decided we are going out for dinner. I'm not on strike, but I would like a moment's peace. It will be a busy-ish weekend, so why not?  I will collect my thoughts on the loss of Sir Patrick Stewart. All of the online tributes are apt, of course, but no one has yet mentioned his deeply affective version of A Christmas Carol, and that is where my thoughts are trending. Yes, Picard. And yes, X-Men. And of course, all of the stage plays. Add to that, his iconic " Ice Bucket Challenge " -- he was pure class, with a wry sense of humor. And one ...

Thursday, 28 degrees. The girls' soccer team won, so both of my school's teams advance. The season goes on... which is a good thing but it does shake up the schedule a little. At least these games are Friday afternoon and Saturday afternoon.  I am hopeful that I can/we can get some outdoor things done today after I pick up Holly from school. The weather is glorious, but my time has been so limited. G put away two full tons of pellets yesterday. It's nice he took a vacation week now, so things can get "buttoned up" (as he would say) for the coming winter. And he's supposed to set up the dragon today-- which is always a lot of fun and fuss, in equal measure. Holly is excited about it. I am too-- it's kind of fun to look out in the darkness and see a nine foot animatronic dragon with fire in its belly flapping its wings, glaring balefully at all passers-by.  That must say something about me. As does my actual excitement that three of my sophomores have chosen...

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...

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...

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...

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...