We're still a few weeks out from the teaching conference, but I think the faculty plans are pretty much ready. At yesterday's meeting we all felt good about our arrangements, both as individual entities and as intersecting conversations. We were excited but also relaxed . . . it's just so strange  and peaceful not to be fretting about things like lunch orders or whether or not the toilets are working. And yet last night I had sad dreams, as if I were mourning the loss of the conference. In real life I'm not at all mournful: registration has been strong, with lots of new-to-the-program participants, and I am so glad not to be responsible for housekeeping and physical-plant disasters. Still, after more than a decade in New Hampshire, I do feel a surge of melancholy.

But the sunshine will shake that out of my head. Today I'll ride my bike, get a tiny editing project off my desk, compile handouts for the conference, email various people about various things, do some weeding, maybe spring-clean another kitchen cupboard or hand-wash winter woolens.

My thoughts are tired. I don't want to be in charge of anyone's words.