Wherein the author has a taste of her own medicine, and it tastes AWESOME.

Have you ever looked at an outdoor staircase and thought, damn, I would like to rope those stairs off with a seat belt thinger and pack a bunch of snow inside? If that's the case, then move to Akron, and you can see plenty of the above. It's really just a measure to cut back on shoveling, methinks, but it's still kind of hilarious when it's right outside the library. The yellow rope makes it look like fun. Perhaps if you queue up in front of it someone will eventually let you in for a frolic.

So far this has been an interesting week in the department of things lost and things found. This story became a lot happier a little while ago, when my son's long-lost comfort item was recovered. The other day we were visiting my friend, and it was dark when we left, and Baby (Ray's little stuffed animal lemur) somehow disappeared. We searched everywhere. But then my friend and his kids found Baby on a snowbank, miraculously unscathed. I can't wait to reunite Baby and Ray this evening. This is the first time one of my kids has had a consistent comfort item, and I was seriously upset about losing it.

The rest of the story? The part that actually has something to do with writing? Well, that would be the tale of the lost manuscript, or at least the lost sequenced version, which had been MIA for months, and finally reappeared. Once I found it, after I did a little jig and high-fived all four people who are in the office working this week, I three-hole punched the pages (terribly, I might add...think swiss cheese) and put them in a binder.

I had never tried that before.

Which is funny, because I have my thesis students put their poems in binders.

The thought had never occurred to me.

I mean, my mss have to be, you know, spread out across a hardwood floor.

But it is so easy to flip through and make changes!

And then read it all over again.

Completely awesome. I have no idea why it took me this long.

By the end of the week it'll be formatted and out in the universe.

Thank you, Saint Anthony.

In other news, if you look to the left you'll see the widget for our new Akron Poetry & Poetics fan page. Check it out for information on our new venture: The Akron Series in Contemporary Poetics, which I am co-editing with John Gallaher. I'm so excited to be starting this new series, and we have a fantastic lineup for the first volume, but I am also sad that John won't be publishing any more of his own poetry books in the Akron Series, now that he's part of our editorial staff and all. More on the new series soon.

Today I keep thinking I still have my hat on, but I don't. Do you ever feel like that?

I mind snow a lot less when it has those big sparkly flakes. I am getting some bizarre snowblowing muscles. I like the relative peacefulness of snow removal, but I would be very happy if it stopped for a little while.

Here I am on the way to the Press this morning. At least I don't feel like I still have my hat and hood on. Note bleak winterscape in the background, minus the students, who don't return until next week.