Yesterday was a flurry of laundry, bathrooms, floor washing, groceries; plus writing and sending out a newsletter, responding to emails about said newsletter, posting class info on social media, solving invoice issues, and other such unnatural chores; plus squeezing in some revision time; plus taking a long chattery afternoon walk with friends; plus diving into a bunch of other piddly tasks I've forgotten to remember. It was a day crammed with event, and I was glad to sit down to a beer and a big bowl of shrimp and asparagus linguine at the end of it . . . even if that meant I had to make the linguine.

But now it's Saturday, and I slept in till after 6, and the heavy housework's done, and I don't have anywhere I need to go, and Tom's not sick anymore, and I am looking forward to an unstructured and undemanding weekend. I do have to read contest entries, and I do want to haul my cold frame out of the shed and set it up in one of the garden boxes. But otherwise the weekend winds can waft me where-e'er they list. I might toddle down to the fish market. I might convince T to go out for oysters and poutine. I might take a nap by the fire. Anything could happen.

Yesterday brought me another bit of good cheer: a friendly and unprompted invitation regarding my as-yet-unplaced manuscript Calendars, which has been floating for several months in the contest aether. So today I need to make some decisions, though I'm pretty sure I know what I'm going to do. A bird in the hand, as they say.

People are signing up for my classes. A publisher reaches out to ask for my collection. Friends text me and say, Let's take a walk! Things are not going so badly in my neck of the woods.