The University of Dayton LitFest schedule is out, and I am psyched. Many familiar faces, including folks from the Poetry Center of Chicago, BGSU homeboy Brent Royster, and the poet that I am presuming to be the other Steven Schroeder not this Steven Schroeder.
Those who resonded to my last post: I did indeed write a poem in my office that day, and it wasn't half bad. Apparently being away from household temptations (gee that sounds sinister...) is a good thing. I will try it again. Of course, classes start Tuesday, so the constant flow of students may be an issue, but at least now I know that I can do it.
Winter is back and I am NOT PLEASED. To make matters worse, it's really windy, so I can't pretend that it's 56 again, as it was Friday afternoon when I was out picking up sticks in our yard. Not playing an engaging game of "pick up sticks," but actually picking up twigs and branches. I was so tempted to burn them on our driveway because they made such a tidy little pile, but I figured it was illegal, and I'm terrified of fire, and didn't want that damn Prodigy song in my head all weekend.
Onward, cozy soldiers.