My newest venture: poetry class at church... and the weekend!

Finally Friday. Not that it's been a bad week, just a long one. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow: I have the day sort of free to do some poem work. I also need to plan the reading/writing/reflection workshop series I'm going to be hosting at church that focuses on poems by Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, and the book of psalms. I have a couple of people who have emailed me already that they are going to attend --and I don't know them!-- so I need to make sure to have all of my poems figured out. The series will run for four weeks, take a couple off for Thanksgiving, then have one final session with the goal of assembling a small booklet of poems to offer to the parish. We'll see how that goes. 

And I'll have time to figure out my own book tomorrow. I hope. And I want to make herbed butter. That isn't time consuming, except for the prepping of the herbs, and it's good to have on hand all winter. I should think about submitting some poems to journals, too. G will be at work, and Meg et al are going to do something (museum?) with Holly. So-- just me, my thoughts and words, and the dog. Or so I hope. 

At any rate, I have no papers to grade this week (by design), so I can have a breather for this three-day weekend. I'll have Holly all day on Monday due to everyone else's work schedule. It's my intention to take her to Windy Ridge to visit the animals, get some apples that are not ours (!!), cider, and then come home. O, and donuts. I can't forget the apple cider donuts. 

The place will likely be over-run with late-in-the-peeper-season tourists, but if I plan to get there right at opening, it should work out. Besides, I'm not there to pick our own (though we should do that next year), but to pick up and go. We'll hope for the best. 

Autumn is bringing on a whole lot of memories, washing through my brain and heart, and I'm trying not to succumb to the incipient melancholy. I've got part of a poem started, so maybe that'll help put some things back in their boxes. Or not. Maybe it's time to let them spew forth, deal with them in daylight, and let some things go. I mean, things that go back--way back-- more than forty years. Ugh. I need to do some mental housework. 

But today, there's work. It's a good distraction, if nothing else. 

Take care, hugs all around, and be safe. 

C