This morning I am finally getting a haircut, which might not sound like a big-enough deal to mention, but two months ago the stylist had to cancel our original date because she had Covid, and then two weeks ago I had to cancel her replacement appointment because I was in Vermont, and thus, as you can imagine, my hair is in a dense and crazy state. I cannot wait to get rid of it.

Yesterday I worked and grocery-shopped and washed floors, and then in the evening walked to a poetry workshop, and meanwhile the street construction sprang back to life: irrigation guys removing our temporary pipes, backhoes shoveling gravel out of our driveways, and then the paving getting underway. There's a lot more of that to get done, and I expect today will be yet another day of noise and dust.

I brought a very raw draft to last night's poetry workshop, and people were helpful about it. I'd like to spend some time on revisions today, if I can dribble in a bit of writing amid the editing. That editing pile is high, which makes me nervous, given the looming Frost Place conference. I think I can get it done, but then again, given how weird my life has been lately, who knows.