Hold that thought.
Where have I been, and why am I blogging at night, with this glass of unpleasantly warm pinot grigio, gearing up for a (probably unsuccessful) attempt at making progress reading My Son's Story by Nadine Gordimer (for the book club I facilitate)?
Because this is one of those shitstorm weeks, in anticipation of a whirlwind week, when Jeannine and I hit the road for Fredonia to visit Aimee, then back to Akron for Jeannine's visit and reading at UA. This might not seem like a big deal, but when you have two kids and six pets and many students, even little trips feel big. Not to mention all of the wardrobe decisions to be made. This week it's still summery, and I've had just about enough (while still loving it). I promise to post Steel Toe Tour photos for your enjoyment next week.
On Friday I made some progress on my TFS, or tiny fall submission of the non-simultaneous variety. Get this: I even wrote the labels out longhand to make them more personal. I print up a mean 5160, but when you're only sending to one journal it seems silly. We'll see how this goes. I really thought about what to send where, and that made me happy.
In a couple of days I visit a colleague's Writers on Writing class to talk about Prairie Fever. I thought it might be fun to bring a snack that's mentioned in the book, and then I realized there aren't many portable and appropriate foods in there. My new manuscript has cupcakes and snowballs and all kinds of possibilities. I can't believe I just referred to it as a manuscript. But with at least one new poem a week, that's what it is turning into.
The art below is thanks to my five year old daughter, who apparently has also attempted reading My Son's Story, or similar, after a long day in the office.