Friday morning; another pre-storm day. Southern Maine is supposed to get 8 to 18 inches tomorrow, last I heard, and I am happily planning to go nowhere.

This has been a busy week, and I might allow myself a bit of a breather today. I've got housework to do; of course, the editing goes on and on; but I've also been slightly under the weather for the past couple of days . . . not enough sleep and a little gastro-intestinal upset, and I feel like maybe I ought to coddle myself just a bit, until I can shake my body back into order.

Last night at the salon, despite not feeling 100 percent, I wrote two decent draft blurts, and I'd like to spend time with them today. I need to start working on my John Donne homework so that I can talk to Teresa about it. I've got various non-editing desk things to sort out, and I really need to clean the floors.

Yesterday the movers came and hoisted T's 250-pound printer up the stairs into his study . . . two massive, cheerful young men, curious about what the machine was for, cozy with my cat, showing me photos of their cats. After they left, I remembered again how much I miss my own young people. It is hard having them so far away, and this stupid March snow pattern had better not mess with my trip to Chicago.