It was frigid yesterday, and this evening an inch or so of snow will fall. But by next week temperatures are supposed to rocket into the 60s--classic March weather hysteria in Maine.

Meanwhile, I'm making progress on my many pre-Florida obligations: turned in an editing sample to the press, printed out my MCELA presentation and gathered poem possibilities for the reading, dealt with conference registration questions. In the afternoon I went for a walk with Betsy, then made Manhattan clam chowder and finished rereading Little Drummer Girl, possibly my favorite Le Carre novel . . . not only one of the best depictions I've seen of 1980s-era western confusions regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict but also an incredible foray into the way in which men, even supposedly good guys, manipulate vulnerable women into committing heinous acts.

Today I'll get back to editing, and in the afternoon I've got a zoom meeting with Teresa and Jeannie regarding a linked sonnet project we've been working on. Then I'll roast a chicken and probably somewhere in the interstices start prepping for next week's Monson class. And no doubt I'll fidget a bit more with the new manuscript. At the moment I'm calling it Traveler, and it is making me cry.