Yesterday morning my car thermometer read zero as I drove through Harmony. Today Portland is supposed to be in the 40s, the rest of the week even warmer, before we have a flash freeze and drop into the basement again.

This weather seesaw is  unnerving. Also I'm feeling slightly coldy today and crossing my fingers the malaise will wear off instead of getting worse. I do not have time to be sick: this big editing project is due at the end of the week, and then the holidays tumble in. Fortunately, my teaching responsibilities are over for the moment. I won't be back in Monson till mid-January, so I'm hoping that once I ship this manuscript and slither through Christmas I'll snag a few open days for myself before the next onslaught.

Today will be cups and cups and cups of tea, a walk in the brisk air, and hours at my desk. Tonight we're planning to go out to watch The Third Man, one of T's favorite movies. I've started reading Anita Brookner's sad novel Strangers. I'll be getting a dead headlight replaced on my car and I'll be thinking about sonnets. I'll stand at the kitchen window and stare out at the squirrels. Duty, love, melancholy, and a small sniffle. The human condition.