I spent yesterday morning with a group of alternative-ed high school students who'd come up to Portland from far southern Maine to spend a morning writing about place. They were cheerful and engaged and worked hard, but, interestingly, while they were eager to talk about how they were writing and from what sources their ideas had come, they were very shy about sharing their actual work. I understand that.

This morning I am again rushing off early, but this time to let the woodstove guy into the house so he can install the stove, repair a chimney crack, and fix a cleanout door. In the meantime, I guess I'll paint some On the Rocks onto the trim in the dining room.

This has not been a great week for getting my editing chores done. But at least there is island weather. And I did start a poem draft while I was teaching yesterday. It features a male character named Baby. Don't ask me where he came from because I have no idea. However, I am all ready to like him.