it's a beautiful day. it's about 40 degrees and clear skies. i'm sitting on my porch with this computer and some coffee in a sweater and a green bay packers hat. the melted and melting snow has made a bog out of the low part of the yard that was a small skating rink only a month ago, and the grass that's not beneath it, that has been buried for near five months in snow, is smooth and soft looking on the little ring of a hill put there to keep the water in one place.
it's difficult for me to post anything at all, anywhere, on a regular basis. for this reason i find it difficult to believe that i could ever have a good relationship with a publisher. i could never write on demand. it doesn't get done that way for me. instead things have to fester and ferment for a while and i never have any idea when they will be ready.
the air is crisp and there's a slight breeze, just enough to bring the surrounding smells to your face to be sampled, tasted. one side of the street is grassy and slightly green, a little gray, and looks like spring, and the other--literally across the street--where it's shady is mounded up snow, 2-3 feet of it still.
it's not spring yet. at least not safe to call it that. about a week ago we had a pretty big snow storm. about 15 inches in 2 days. so it's still snowing. there is a difference in that it melts, but that means flooding. and flooding plus the remaining threat of cold means, of course, that the whole countryside, at least in low spots, may yet turn into a skating rink before june.
Julie Sosebee once referred to me as an avid northerner and i doubt i could come up with a more pleasant way to describe myself. i love it. in all of the seasons and the weather and the details i feel, smell, and taste home.