. . . and it's Monday again, and my desk is full of obligation again,
Fortunately, I'm ready to go. I had a productive yet unstructured weekend: I processed lots of harvest vegetables (green tomato sauce, peppers, kale, even a batch of wild mushrooms) and did a lot of garden culling and transplanting, but I also listened to two very exciting and stressful baseball games. I baked bread and dusted rooms, but I also lay on the couch reading in front of the fire. So I feel as if I can step back into weekday desk life without too much regret for what might have been.
And thus today: editing, manuscript reading, class planning, followed by grocery shopping, punctuated by an exercise class and poem revision and some tomato-sauce simmering and the inevitable laundry. Always, the work work work. But mostly I thrive on it. And I earn hardly any money, so maybe the house versus word schedule doesn't count as craziness. Or maybe it does?