It's frigid outside, and no Covid tests are to be had anywhere, but we don't have symptoms so are assuming the best? In other words, happy Tuesday!

Today will be mostly class planning, class website creation, student-poem reading, and such. I'd like to say I'll take a walk to see how the otters are doing down in the cemetery ponds, but the temperatures may not climb out of single digits, so probably I won't. 

Right now, though, I am sitting comfortably in my warm living room, admiring the bouquet of white tulips I bought Tom for his birthday, listening to the clock tick and the cat climb back into bed.

I'm feeling a little sleepy this morning, a little blinky and inarticulate. I don't quite know what I'm capable of, beyond curling into my corner. It's hard to imagine writing a poem, or that I ever wrote one. I expect this fog will wear off, but it's pleasant, in its own way.

But I do need to pull myself together. The editing project is off my desk, but only temporarily, so I need to snatch at this opportunity to do all of the other things, and all of those other things require me to figure out what somebody's poem is doing . . . mine, yours, theirs.

What an excellent job! Gosh, I wish it paid better.