Working on a blog post for another blog, not my own.
Working with kids in a small rural high school - first day back since fall.
Working or hoping to work on making dinner for myself.
Done working on making kid poems big on 11 x 17 paper.
I may have mucked them up - I trusted the copier's auto setting to align the page pleasingly. The poems begin low on the page which is bothering me.
Never doing enough or enough right to feel I'm doing enough or enough right.
Names in the book were attributed wrong on a few poems.
I have bought more full page labels to remedy on each of the 150 copies these errors
than I will use in years. Will the stick-um fatigue? I am fatigued.
Clouds have returned after a warm, clear-sky weekend featuring the din of returning water birds and me walking the wetlands trail.
Sorry for neglecting this blog - I've been in and out of planes, trains, and automobiles without getting to room with Steve Martin or have the car catch hilariously on fire.
I was not stuck in Europe beneath an ash cloud, but I heard stories.
I'm at the Fred Meyer where there is wi-fi. There is no wi-fi where I live.
There is a warm bed, the hilarious novel THE ANTHOLOGIST by Nicholson Baker nearby. If you are a poet, it is funny. If you are me it is funny. Will anybody else titter into their William Blake motif flannel sheets? I bet somebody somewhere manufactures William Blake motif flannel sheets.