Well, the snow (which was at least half sleet) has ended, and now the windy cold has set in. We are forecast to reach a high of 9 degrees today. I've got classwork and editing ahead, tonight a meeting of my poetry group, tomorrow night our first salsa class (unless Tom and I chicken out), the torture of sitting for a new author photo on the horizon, maybe finding time to cut out fabric scraps for an apron, practicing Mozart . . .

In a day or so I'll post the next RIII schedule. I'm still slogging through The Birth of the Modern, which is both fascinating and boring, but I don't want to give up on it in case I miss something good. Dante is not boring at all, of course, but copying is always a slow process. I've got a couple of poem drafts on the burner. Tom spent all of yesterday designing stereo shelves for the living room. I made blueberry cake and chicken cacciatore and washed the floors and submitted some poems and finished hand-sewing my dish towel. We lead a poky life here in the Alcott House.