Apparently, we are trapped in a loop of endless April. My vegetable garden may be a loss this year, but on the bright side the songbirds seem to be enjoying the perpetual cold rain, the terrible backyard is finally turning into an arbor, and I'm not worrying too much about sunburns.

Yesterday I finished an editing project, then muscled through conference paperwork and went up to Bowdoin to rehearse with conference faculty before having a sweet evening out with the San Francisco writers. Today will be more conference planning: figuring out my reading plans, pulling together poems for sharing. I've also got to prep for readings this Friday and Saturday, and then there's Lori's reading to attend tonight . . . life is kind of head-spinning this week, but at least I've now got an editing gap so I can pull myself together without too much panic.

Planning for the conference has been complex, mostly because our theme is complex. Last fall Teresa and I decided to focus on varieties of collaboration--not only in terms of communal projects but also across disciplines and time. As a result, all of the faculty members have been pulling each other in as performance and teaching partners . . . which is delightful and deeply engaging and interesting while also making me feel like an eight-armed, wild-eyed, schedule monster. What will I forget? Something vital, no doubt.