Tuesday, February 26, 2019

A home day, thank goodness. I've been craving alone time, though, truly, it's been fun to be so sociable. My teaching residency is going well, and I like my co-teacher. The central Maine party weekend was of course a joy, and I'm beginning to feel more relaxed with my poetry group. We're hanging out a bit more, gossiping and kvetching, not only talking about work. But I love days of quiet. They're like cold water in July. Tom and I had an excellent quiet day on Sunday: together, but also busy and solitary, as the rain splashed the shingles and leaked through the basement window. Today I'll work, walk, write. The wind is still gusting like an infant hurricane. I want to stride straight into the gale.


Ruth said...

I love that last line. "I want to stride straight into the gale."

David (n of 49) said...

Ditto. :)

Carlene M Gadapee said...

(The Gale is the river in Franconia)
(Striding into the Gael could be a skirmish)
(Striding into the gaol could be defiant)
(I should get more coffee, and I loved the image it called up, and I like wordplay)

David (n of 49) said...

Haha! And reading gaol would be a ballad...