Wed. April 29, 2026: Working, Slow but Steady

image courtesy of johannylisbeth10 from Pixabay

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

Waxing Moon

Partly cloudy and cool

Here we are, in the middle of another workweek. I hope yours is going really well.

Why oh why am I getting job listings for “hybrid” in a different country? How the heck would I be able to fly to Warsaw twice a week for what they’re offering? Especially since I’m “responsible for commute-related expenses.” I mean, come on, people, have a little common sense. Not to mention that I am quite explicit about only being interested in working fully remote copywriting jobs with this particular agency. Stop wasting my time.

I may just remove myself from their roster.

I caught up on the email from yesterday, and got a few things sorted out, which is always good. Got some work done on BETTING MAN, but not enough. Got the bench and the bistro chair uncovered and oiled out back. I oiled the bistro table on the front porch (which will move out back today, if it dries in time). Crawling around, I got oil on the shoulder of my shirt, so I had to make like a wardrobe person and get the stain out. Sigh. But don’t ever let anyone tell you theatre skills aren’t applicable to life. Did the marketing rounds.

Now, we find out that the “shooter” never fired a shot, never even held a gun, and was on a different floor. This whole lying escapade is to introduce a bill for the ballroom. Then That Thing shouldn’t be allowed to golf out in the open every weekend. He already shouldn’t be allowed to charge the taxpayers for using the facilities he owns. The corruption is off the charts, and Congress just goes along with it. Useless, all of them.

Did some work on contest entries, and did a nice chunk of work on the ghostwriting. Sent some information I promised to a colleague. Got my act together and walked to yoga. The scents from trees and flowering bushes were lovely.

It was so nice to be back in the studio! Familiar faces welcomed me, and there were a bunch of new people, too. It was a really great session, which helped my hip a lot. I also saw/felt the difference consistently showing up in my home yoga practice daily has made to being in class.

Walked home, heated up leftovers, sat on the porch after watching the light change. I’m trying to give my brain rest periods now and then during the day, and that lessens the headaches.

Received an email from someone at a theatre I don’t know about submitting to another theatre I don’t know for a reading in early June. It doesn’t even say what state it’s in, or how they have my information (maybe I submitted at some point in the past)? Completely confused.

It’s the day after my reading at LAVA Center, so I couldn’t do it anyway.

Woke up from a dream that it was snowing to find I’d kicked off the covers and the temperatures plummeted. Rather a direct correlation, I would say.

Up at the usual time. The morning routine went well (yoga/meditation/free write). Today is Day 250 of the free write sessions, and it’s helped a lot. I had an idea (maybe overnight?) for BETTING MAN and for something to happen later in the series that I could spin out in the session before I forgot.

On today’s agenda: work on BETTING MAN, work on contest entries, work on ghostwriting. This evening, WAM’s literary committee reconvenes for the season, and we discuss three plays. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again, and welcoming any new people in.

Either tonight or tomorrow night, we’re supposed to have another hard frost, so I guess there’s more delay getting the back set up. I might put down the rugs today and arrange the bench, chairs, and bistro table anyway. Maybe put up the chimes, but wait to set out the birdbath.

Along with the novel writing, playwrighting, and art in the next few weeks, I need to start tackling the comic horror cleave poem I want to bring into the residency this autumn. It will take me six months to get the first draft done, I’m sure. It was inspired by a phrase from one of Judy Hoyer’s poems that she brought in two years ago that made Kyle and I both shudder. But it’s stuck with me, and I’m using it as my jumping off point.

There are multiple leaf blowers being used around here before 7:30 in the morning (over at the college). One is bad enough, but more? Inexcusable. Leaf blowers should be banned. Period.

Back to the page!

Published in: on April 29, 2026 at 6:33 am  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , , , ,

Tues. April 28, 2026: Shakespeare & Sonnets

image courtesy of Adriano Gadini from Pixabay

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Waxing Moon

Sunny and cool

Here we are, in another week! I hope yours started well.

You can read the Community Tarot Reading for the Week here.

Friday, I folded the laundry and put it away after breakfast, got some housework done, tried to reach maintenance and failed. I reached them later, and they planned to stop by either late Friday or early Monday.

Sat down and finished/did the polish on the ghostwriting. It took me until nearly 3, but I got it done and out the door – two days early! My next assignment is due May 6.

I decided to call it a wrap for the workday, and put the salmon with miso/honey glaze into the slow cooker. It turned out really well. It only needs two hours in the slow cooker, and tastes wonderful.

It’s the first time I worked with miso soup mix (I love miso soup). I may have to make those packets part of my pantry staples.

Maintenance didn’t make it by the end of the day, which meant first thing Monday.

I was waiting for a delivery that never showed up (although the tracking insisted it would be delivered Friday evening), and missed the closing of the gallery show.

Slept so-so into Saturday, up early. Housework. Most of the day was housework, including a deep clean of the bathroom (in case they had to switch the toilet out on Monday). I mean, it was time in the spring cleaning roster anyway, but it took much longer than I expected, because I moved everything movable out, scrubbed corners, wiped down crown and chair rail molding, cleaned the heating vents, scrubbed out sink, toilet and tub more thoroughly than the weekly cleaning, went through things that tend to pile up on surfaces, wiped the windows, bulbs, etc., along with the regular vacuum and floor mop. You wouldn’t think a small bathroom would take that long, but it did. Willa and Tessa supervised.

In between waiting for things to dry, I worked on contest entries.

The delivery showed up in the late morning, and Charlotte supervised that unpacking, then played in the box for the rest of the day.

The woman who lived in the upstairs apartment in the green house across the street (and parks next to me) moved out. I’m sad to see her go. She was a good neighbor, and only lived here for a year. I hope the next person who moves in is nice (and doesn’t try to take my parking spot).

In the late afternoon, I put on Real People clothes and headed for the gallery. Climbed a ladder and took down my wooden spoon sculpture, and retrieved the collage. Packed those into the car, and picked up takeout on the way home. We ate. I changed into Better Real People Clothes and headed down to Mosaic Gallery and the Elsewhere Shakespeare production of KING LEAR (my cohort colleague co-runs the company).

The place was packed, they had to bring out extra chairs, and it was a really well-done 6-actor, 90-minute version. The way they cut the scripts is always so interesting, especially in the way it informs the acting choices. I enjoyed it, saw a bunch of people I know and had quick catch-ups.

It was a lovely night to be on foot there and back, although the temperature dropped overnight back into the 30’s.

Unfortunately, I checked mail/social media when I got home, and saw the news of yet another staged “assassination” attempt, this time at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner. All so That Thing can have yet another hissy fit demanding his ballroom. There is no way in hell that a guy carrying that much hardware got through security. There is no way in hell that, if it was real, the dinner would have continued. They didn’t even do a good job staging it. I mean, the press secretary tipped people off ahead of time.

And yes, I know protocols and procedures in these situations. I make my living writing about them, and have done research/deep dive interviews with enough professionals in that field to know how it works, along with collecting a good shelf of procedural handbooks.

This was a load of crap. I could say so much more, but it’s not worth my time.

I was even angrier on Monday when it turns out the security team had the information on the shooter and allowed him in so That Thing and his minions could push harder for the ballroom. Corrupt, grifting jackasses all of them.

Up early on Sunday. Did the Community Tarot Reading for the Week, which you can read here. This is the last week with the Green Witch Tarot and the Green Witch’s Oracle. Next week we switch decks.

We were supposed to get yet another hard frost Sunday into Monday, so I didn’t dare do any more of the teak oiling.

I papered both the inside and the outside of the kitchen door with the peel-and-stick paper. The inside went well, and I’m proud of matching the panels so carefully. The outside was harder, as though the proportions were slightly off. I’m not sure I like the outcome. I will live with it for a bit. If I don’t, I can always peel it off and try a different pattern.

Instead of going to the artist talk, I stayed to dig into the contest entries. They have to be finished this week. I hadn’t promised anyone I would be there, so I wasn’t letting anyone down. This category has the most entries. I like to go back to the ones I think are the strongest. The first read-through is always how it stands alone. The second is looking at the strongest choices and looking at the details in relation to each other to find the strongest pieces.

Cooked dinner, sat on the porch for a bit. I was tired, and my hip bothered me (it’s been grumpy since late last week). I went to bed early because I was tired, and the hip woke me up a few times. Weird dreams.

Up at the usual time on Monday. We’d had a hard frost – let’s hope this is the last. I want to get things set up outside. The next planting day isn’t until Friday the 1st, so I don’t have to worry about seeds. There are quite a few planting days in May, so I should be able to get in all the seeds.

Posted the Intent for the Week and the Tarot reading. I’m having trouble getting into the computer. I had trouble 3 or 4 times on Monday morning. It better not be going on the fritz.

Maintenance came and worked on the toilet, but the first fix didn’t work, so they had to go out and get more parts for the next fix. Good thing I deep cleaned on Saturday. All I had to do was move things out of that alcove again, and give it another sweep with the broom. But it meant the morning errands had to be moved back.

There’s a big kerfuffle about Xandra Ibarra’s nude performance at the MFA Boston. You can read about it here. The people getting all huffy and offended need to get over themselves. If they don’t like it or agree with it, that’s up to them. But saying it shouldn’t exist/happen – nope. Ibarra made a good point – how much revered art depicts violence against women or nude women? Why aren’t there more conversations about the acts depicted and those histories, as well as the technical skills of the artist? I don’t think it’s a “mockery” of traditional art, as one poster declared it, but a prompt to communication and different ways of viewing the human body in art, policies around the body, and the parameters of a subject’s consent. Laughter isn’t always humor and/or mockery. It can be a defense mechanism. The piece itself was performance art to provoke conversation and part of the museum’s event offerings. It’s not like she just wandered in and started performing. It was a planned performance. Would it have made me uncomfortable if I’d been in the room? Probably, and that means it achieved what it meant to do, and made me look at the issues from more angles.

I’d also like to see the commissioned Buddha sculpture on the High Line in NYC. I’ve never even been on High Line since it was opened. The last time I was in NYC, I was focused on the reading of my play, and didn’t make it over there. You can read about it here.

The toilet was fixed. I’d done admin work during the repair, stuff where I could get interrupted as necessary. I also put together the marketing content calendar for May. I am putting the radio plays into the mix now, too, along with the anthologies in regular rotation. There’s no reason they can’t keep growing their audiences.

Once that was all done, I headed out to the library and then the grocery store. I had to drop off/pick up books. I swapped out the decaf for regular coffee. I showed it at the courtesy desk and the woman burst out laughing, agreeing that me holding a bag of decaf was obviously a mistake, and to just switch them out. Nothing like people in town knowing your quirks! I also picked up a couple of other things.

Home, got everything upstairs and put away. It was too close to lunchtime to start anything else, so I had my lunch and then settled into some work for a few hours. I finished the literary committee work, dug into the contest entries, then switched over to the ghostwriting for a couple of hours.

I didn’t get as far on that as I hoped, but I put in some time and then switched over to contest entries for a couple of hours.

I put on Real People Clothes again and headed down to the R&D Store at MASS MoCA for my colleague’s Sonnets in Conversation event. He’d chosen four sonnets, and five poets created work in response to them, an ekphrastic exercise. One of the poets was from the cohort on which I advised, and it was great to see her again and hear her work. Her work is really wonderful and layered.

The event was interesting, and some of the work resonated with me more than other work did. Which is how it goes. I caught up with a few people, and walked home with someone from the event who turns out to be a neighbor, one house over. We’d never met before, just seen each other on the street. This neighbor is moving out soon, but only about a half a block away, and works at MASS MoCA, so we are likely to keep crossing paths, especially since we’re both Shakespeare lovers.

Heated up some leftovers. I had hoped to get some more contest entries done in the evening, but I was too tired. Instead, I strung the summer lights up on the porch and we sat out there watching the light shift.

Decent night’s sleep, up at the usual time, the typical routine. On today’s agenda: get some of the teak oiling done on the furniture out back, work on BETTING MAN, work on the ghostwriting, work on contest entries. I plan to finally get back to Tuesday night yoga classes tonight. I have to get through a bunch of email – things came through last night that I was too tired to look at, including notes from the ghostwriting assignment I turned in last Friday.

Once I’ve wrapped the contest entries and submitted those, this coming weekend, and ROOTED is open, I need to look over my stage play notes and get those back into the schedule. I need a couple more ten-minute plays, a couple of 20-40 minute plays, and I need to finish up some of the full-lengths. I also have to turn around the edits for the anthology story, but I have until June for that, so I don’t need to rush. I just need to keep it in front of me, so I don’t forget it.

I hope you’re having a great start to your week.

Published in: on April 28, 2026 at 6:39 am  Comments (3)  
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Thurs. April 2, 2026: April Rains

image courtesy of Saskia Plötz from Pixabay

Thursday, April 2, 2026

Last Day of Full Moon

Rainy and chilly

You can read the latest on the garden at Gratitude & Growth here.

April is poetry month. I’m trying to read more poetry in general, but in April, I try to make a point of reading one poem every day. Yesterday’s was “Marking Time” by Michèle Roberts, from her collection ALL THE SELVES I WAS, which was a gift from a friend. It’s about her sibling’s final days. My sense is that it’s her brother, although gender is not specified.

I’m reading at least one poem a day all month (often more), but I probably won’t talk about all of them here!

I got some work done on BETTING MAN, but not enough. I packed up the books and headed for the library, where I dropped off a big stack and picked up an even bigger stack. Swung by the grocery store to pick up what I forgot yesterday, and then another errand on the way home.

I was tired.

The ghostwriting gave me another set of revision notes on the latest 20K, and I turned those around in 4 hours. Hopefully, I can invoice today.

Did my marketing rounds.

I got the notification for the domain renewal for Grief to Art, and I’m going to let it go. Much as I love the idea of the project, I don’t have the capacity to build it to what it needs to be, and it’s time to let it go. It makes me sad, somewhat, but it’s also the right decision.

There were some really toxic “pranks” anecdotes going around yesterday, and so many weren’t funny at all, but were cruel, especially a lot of the ones husbands did to their wives. Way too many toxic relationships out there. I’m tired of blaming outside influences, too. Unless that cruelty already lived somewhere in the person, it wouldn’t have room to grow.

I’m delighted that Artemis II launched successfully. I am of the generation that grew up with the Apollo missions, and I still think they are the coolest things ever. Hate SpaceX. Love NASA. I was a fully grown adult when I visited the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in DC years back, and felt like a giddy kid.

Read a bit in the evening, but felt unsettled and tired and very depleted. It started raining again and rained hard all night. It was soothing to wake up and listen to it in the night, though.

Morning routine was fine. I have online meditation group, which will make Charlotte happy. I will tromp down to the post office to mail a few things, work on BETTING MAN, and do some ghostwriting. I have to bake for tomorrow’s gallery opening, too. And work on contest entries.

The rain just wants me to curl up with a book and a cat and do as little as possible!

Published in: on April 2, 2026 at 7:13 am  Comments (2)  
Tags: , , ,

Wed. April 1, 2026: Literal and Metaphorical Stormy Weather

image courtesy of Ingo Jakubke from Pixabay

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

Full Moon

April Fool’s Day

Rainy and warm

New month midweek. That always feels weird to me.

I would prefer our April Fools to be like the Tarot Fool, not the ones currently in power.

Yesterday did not begin the way I hoped. My mom felt terrible. I managed to get her an appointment in the health practice, but with a different doctor, and right up the street at the hospital, so off we went right away. The doctor was so kind, and did the most thorough exam my mom has had since we moved here. He really spent time with her. We ruled out lots of bad things, but aren’t sure what’s left, so we’re monitoring. She felt much better by the time we left. But most of the day was elder care, although she improved steadily all day, thank goodness.

On the way back, I picked up her prescription at the pharmacy and then nipped into Big Y to pick up a few things.

By the time we got home and up the stairs, it was time for brunch (since we left before breakfast). I scrambled some eggs and made toast, and that was that.

A submission call landed on my desk for a short story due that day. I looked through what I had to see if anything fit the guidelines, and I had something. Yay, me. All I had to do was write the cover letter and pop it out. Because I was in no shape to start work on something new after the stressful morning.

I also closed out one of the contest categories, submitting my winner/finalist list and the winner’s review. I’m close to closing out the second category. I should be able to do it this weekend. The third category is much bigger, and will take me longer to finish, but I have until early May, so I’m okay.

I plowed through a couple of hundred emails, and set up April’s content calendar.

I was delighted to learn that my short comedy, “Dawn and Dorothy in the Afterlife” about Dawn Powell and Dorothy Parker stuck together for eternity in drunken luncheons, will get a staged reading at the LAVA Center in Greenfield in June. This is my second play with them, and I had such a wonderful experience last year. It will be such fun!

That was a nice uplift to the day.

I cooked a nice chicken and vegetable stew. I tossed a handful of currants in near the end, and that was an excellent choice. After the meal, I sat out on the porch reading WRITERS ON WRITING VOL. II, essays that originally appeared in the New York Times. My copies of both volumes are in storage, and I wanted to re-read them, so I ordered them from the library.

Diane Ackerman’s essay particularly delighted me, the way she uses language so beautifully. I ordered both of her books mentioned in the essay, one prose, one poetry.

I enjoyed the other essays I’ve read (re-read) so far, too, but that, in particular, stayed with me the most.

Synchronicity –there’s an essay from Michael Holyrod in there, and his huge Shaw biography is on my reading list (re-read, I’ve read it before) as background for the May Morris play.

We had a cracking good thunderstorm at night, with lightning. We turned out the lamps and watched it roll past through the windows. The lightning looked like serpents snaking across the sky.

The cats weren’t bothered at all, although Tessa was fascinated.

Slept okay. My mom seems a little better this morning. I have to get back on track with the work today, since yesterday was somewhat derailed. Tessa and Bea are scampering around, playing and having fun, which is great.

Have a good one!

Published in: on April 1, 2026 at 6:21 am  Comments (6)  
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Fri. March 27, 2025: Pens and Paints

image courtesy of Free Photos from Pixabay

Friday, March 27, 2026

Waxing Moon

Rainy with the temperature dropping

Happy Friday, and I hope you have a lovely weekend planned.

Today is World Theatre Day! Celebrate the theatre and those you know in it.

Bechdel Project is fully funded for next year, so I think now is a good time to talk about how to work remotely together. Since, you know, they claim to like my work and all.

I got an email from the cat anthology that seemingly contradicts what the editor sent me a few days ago, so I need to get in touch and sort that out. The editor gave me a date and promised details on the contract. This email goes into maybe-someday territory. So I want to find out what’s actually going on. Also, the editor’s email was specific to me and to my piece, and this email is a “dear author” email.

Contradictory information annoys me. It’s one thing if things need to change, and it’s clearly stated that it is changing. It’s another to pretend the original conversation never happened. Which is one of many reasons I do everything in writing.

Meditation was lovely, and Charlotte was happy.

I finished the March newsletter and got it out the door. I set up the document for June’s newsletter, so as things happen, I can do little write-ups, and it’s all set to pop into the template when it’s time for format and send.

I went to the grocery store my own damn self and had such a good time shopping! I was even in budget, although it was temping to just Buy All the Things. But I didn’t need all of it, just some of it, and restocking some basics. I got to catch up with the fishmonger, too, which was great. And treated myself to a bundle of purple tulips.

It was all I could do to keep from bursting into song, as though I was in a musical.

Oh, and suddenly, they have cooking implements back, but moved to be between the canned fish and the soup. With plenty of packages of wooden spoons! At least I know if I screw up this weekend, I can get more.

Came home, hauled everything up the stairs, put it away, set up on the porch, and painted the first coat on the next set of spoons.

By then, it was time for the marketing and the #FreelanceFriends chat. That was lively, and a lot of fun.

I had my lunch break, then did the next coat of paint on the spoons. Because it was clouding up and getting more humid, it took longer for the paint to dry on this batch.

I kept thinking yesterday was Friday, but it was Thursday.

Switched over to the ghostwriting, the project that was originally due this week, but was pushed out to Monday, due to the switch. I’ve been struggling with it, but I think/hope I’m doing some solid work. I didn’t move ahead as far as I hoped, but I was pleased with the work I did.

Heated up leftovers for dinner. It started raining by then.

I attended the virtual reading my fellow Boiler House Poets read in. All the work was really interesting, but their work, in particular, was terrific. I’m so glad they invited me!

It was bucketing down with rain by the time the reading was done. I sat and read for a bit with the cats. Bea wanted attention. Tessa wanted attention.

I slept reasonably well, and woke up around 4. I lazed in bed until 5, then got up and started the routine. I was up before Tessa had a chance to start yelling, and she was quite surprised. The rain seemed to have let up, so I fed everyone and did the day’s yoga practice, then hauled the laundry to the laundromat. I had trouble with the card reader – it said, “network error.” Fortunately, I had some cash on me and the coin machine was working, so I got quarters and put them through. And about a half hour later, I got a notification that the card payment was put through. Twice. Guys, I am not paying nearly $30 for a single load of laundry that should cost me $10.50. So I will be in touch with their office AGAIN. I want to switch back to only using cash there.

Very frustrating.

Hauled all the laundry home and up the stairs. It’s raining lightly, and I can feel the temperature drop. It’s supposed to snow tomorrow night. Urgh.

On today’s agenda: ghostwriting and the two art projects. I hope to get to where I need to be on the ghostwriting today, because it’s due at the end of day Monday. I would rather spend the entire weekend focused on finishing the two art projects. But we will see what needs to be done.

Tomorrow, I have a community obligation to attend (if you know, you know) for a few hours, and housework, but the bulk of the weekend will be finishing the art.

Next week, we end one month and start a new one. A full moon on April Fool’s Day is the universe having a good laugh at our expense, I think. Plus, with the regime in charge over here, every day is a day of fools, and not in the positive sense of the word.

I have a book review due today, so I will get that out after breakfast, and then get back to work on the art and the ghostwriting. I also need to do my 30-minute meditation and my 15-minute free write at some point.

It will all get done, and I’m excited about the new things I’m learning working on the art pieces.

Have a great weekend, and we’ll catch up on the other side.

Published in: on March 27, 2026 at 6:34 am  Comments (2)  
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Wed. Nov. 19, 2025: Unnecessary Chaos

image courtesy of PublicDomainPictures via pixabay.com

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

Dark Moon

Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus, Mercury, Jupiter Retrograde

Cloudy and cold

Time is flying so fast. Not fast enough for Mercury to go direct again, but there you have it. Although I often miss the big Thanksgiving gatherings we attended for 30 or 40 years in Maine, with 60+ people in a rented hall, the driving, cooking, and cleaning up was getting to be too much. I’m grateful for the years we had it. I am equally grateful to have smaller, quieter Thanksgivings at home right now. And next week the weather is supposed to be awful, in addition to Mercury being retrograde, so we will  just stay in our little blanket fort and cook.

I mean, they’ve been telling us every day is awful weather, but very little has happened so far, although I have the barometric pressure headaches to beat the band. Headache medication does nothing for those. The only relief happens if it actually begins to rain or snow.

I lost the morning to filing response paperwork in protest of the 18% rate increase Berkshire Gas has filed for with the state. They already raised my rate 125% in 4 years, and 45.9% of that in the past year. They shouldn’t be allowed an additional 18%. And why weren’t these other rate increases regulated, as they are supposed to be?

I had to file some other nasty paperwork, too, on a different issue. I am so sick and tired of systems punishing people for trying to survive. Burn it all down. All of it.

Walked down to the post office and mailed all the overseas cards. Way early, but at least they are out! On impulse, stopped in at a nearby store where I usually find the bags for my cookie platters, and there were a few in stock, so I grabbed them. Hopefully, I will have enough.

Home, started making lunch and. . .no water. I contacted maintenance who said the whole neighborhood is out because they are “replacing gate valves” on Ashland Street, and they have no idea how long it will take. Now, that is not something that is an unknown. They had to plan and order these valves. Yet again, the city refuses to communicate. They could have let people know yesterday, so they could plan. They could have posted something on social media this morning, or even once the shutoff happened. There were four hours of office hours between the shut off and Public Service’s end of workday. Nothing. It’s not just dropping the ball. It’s a refusal to communicate. I contacted one of my city councilors, who keeps bringing up communication issues at the city council meetings, how this continues to be necessary.

On top of that, I’d received an email from a newsletter to which I’ve subscribed for several months, but I’ve considered unsubscribing because they have AI sponsors and advocate for AI, when supposedly they are all about high paid and high-quality freelance jobs. Anyway, I got an email that said they wanted to know something that was an issue in freelancing, other than low paying clients. My response was the type of client that tries to combine copywriting and graphic design into a single position, and still underpays. I got an automated response about a “support ticket” from a “university” which set off warning bells. Today, I got a response that hey, yeah, that’s a problem, and we’re rolling out AI tools to help. Um, no. In other words, it was not a legitimate information request, it was a way to get my email to try to sell me something (the newsletter already tries to upsell every time, and I ignore it, because constant upselling annoys me). I responded, saying if it was a so-called “tool” having to do with AI, I wasn’t interested, and to take me off the list. I got a very condescending response that “actually, AI has many uses” that I should learn, but if I still wanted to be taken off the list to let them know. To which I responded, “I am aware of the uses of AI. I write for a living. Do not ‘well, actually’ me. DO take me off your list.”

And yes, I’m unsubscribing from the newsletter, too. I should have, the first time I got the twinge.

Effing tech bro.

Why, yes, it was very much a Mercury Retrograde day!

At least I got the notification that the Level Best payment for the anthology is about to come through.

And then That Thing said to a journalist, “Quiet, piggy” and no one spoke up. Cowards. AND That Thing hosted a murderer and excused the murder. Every day, it gets worse. And NO ONE stands up to any of it.

I did my day’s marketing, and set up December’s content calendar, which will focus on the holiday short pieces and MURDER BELLS (since that is set around the holidays).

My fellow Boiler House Poets recommended the poet Ellen Bass during our studio time last month. I’ve been reading some of her work. There’s a poem in her collection OF SEPARATENESS & MERGING called “When I am a Zen Teacher I’ll Simply Throw the Pictures into the Fire” which is just devastating. Talk about a poem’s ability to just rip you down to the shreds, especially with all the conversations for which the Epstein files have been a catalyst.

Headed out to yoga (on foot). There are still big holes all over the sidewalks, now for weeks. Late this afternoon, they finally filled the big hole at the end of our street that’s been open for six weeks because they kept digging it and leaving it uncovered and then having to re-dig it when it filled with water and debris because they just walked away and left it for days at a time. The inefficiency of this project is just appalling.

Yoga was great, very relaxing. The service dog was there, and one of my friends from the gallery was there, too, and plans to keep coming.

Walked home. Still no water. While I still had coat and boots on, I trudged down to Cumberland Farms at the end of the street and bought 2 gallons of water. At least they were still working on the pipes. I was afraid they’d just packed up for the night and walked away. One gallon was for cooking and washing dishes, and the other was for the toilet. Yeah, not that I want to use designer water to flush, but that’s where we were, especially since no one would give us an estimated timeline of when we might have water again. If we had known, we could have prepared, but heaven forbid. I need to invest in Brita pitchers again, too. Mine are in storage, but they’re not expensive, and worth the investment. We had them in the residency apartment, which reminded me how good they are.

I remember, in Maine, going to the spring near my grandmother’s place years and years ago. I want to say it was the original Poland Spring, but it might have been some other spring. We’d just bring a carful of large jugs and fill them up. I think it was free, but there might have been a fee to enter the property. I don’t remember. I just remember pumping the water to fill the jugs.

Cooked dinner. The water came on while we were eating. I let it run from the various faucets for a while, because it was disgusting. But at least I could wash all the dishes, and we could flush the toilet by the end of the day.

I think I might start keeping/refilling the jugs, so we always have a few gallons of water on hand. Storage will be a challenge, but at least we won’t be caught out quite as badly again. On Cape, I used to keep jugs of water handy, in case of emergencies, but I had a garage there. One of the few things I miss about the Cape is having a garage.

Read in the evening, slept reasonably well, although I was up early. Good morning routine.

Day 90 of the morning 15-minute free write! I did it. Every single day for 90 days, and got viable work out of it. I have to type up notes and put them in the various project folders. I also have to decide if I want to do another 90-day cycle or just keep going. If I keep going, I should then block in time to type up project notes every week.

On today’s agenda: writing, ghostwriting, who knows what else? I want to have a quiet day. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if there was another water shutoff. The Sidewalk Chewing Demons are out there again, making a lot of noise and doing a whole lotta nothing. Same chaos, different day.

I was going to do laundry today, but I didn’t trust there to be water.

Since the end of April, it’s been chaos around here, and I’m sick of it.

Have a good one!

Published in: on November 19, 2025 at 8:01 am  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Thurs. Nov. 13, 2025: A Good Night’s Sleep Helps

image courtesy of Jakub via pixabay.com

Thursday, November 13, 2025

Waning Moon

Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus, Mercury, Jupiter Retrograde

Raining and cold

You can read the latest on the garden over on Gratitude and Growth.

I managed to get a play submission out yesterday morning, so at least I felt like I was trying to get something done on my own work. Did the rounds of elected officials, and told them I realized they are tired, but they need to remove ineffective or colluding leaders.

I was invited to return as a judge for a national teen writing contest that I’ve worked on for the past two years. I declined.  The bulk of the reading happens right around Solstice/Christmas/New Year’s, and it’s just too much. Plus, they don’t listen. If I say I have x amount of time and can do y amount of categories (they ask us how much we can do), don’t give me double or triple that. During the holidays. I’m glad I did it the past couple of years, but the timing, technical issues, and disorganization don’t work for me. I know they’re having trouble finding judges for the reasons given – so don’t do it over the holidays and fix the tech problems, since everything is handled online. If I only have specific hours I can block off to read, and I can’t access the necessary files in those hours, I can’t suddenly find more hours a week or two later when the tech issues are fixed, especially when those new hours are expected on the holidays themselves. No.

The whole day was spent on the ghostwriting. Yet again, I ripped it apart and did several sections over from scratch. But I got it out just before 4:30, and was ready to collapse. It’s not as polished as I like to have a draft like this for them.

The cat food that has been out of stock was finally back in stock, so I put in that order.

Heated up leftovers for dinner, and just chilled out with the cats in the evening. I read a wonderful book of poetry, COLORSCAPES by Lee Woodman. Just wonderful. Every poem got me more excited about poetry and eager to read the next one. I went to bed earlier than usual, woke up at 1, fell asleep again, and didn’t wake up until nearly 6:30. Tessa Was Not Amused.

Got up, fed everyone, good morning routine. Charlotte and I will do the online meditation group. After breakfast, I will head out to the laundromat, since I overslept and didn’t go first thing. Hopefully, that will work. I want to get some of my own writing in today, and then I’ll move onto the next ghostwriting project, unless I get the notes for which I’m waiting. I have a meeting online at noon (#FreelanceFriends), and then a meeting in person at the library at 5:30, and then a meeting with the online library cohort from 8-9. So it’s a good thing I don’t have a deadline looming over me!

A good night’s sleep helped a lot, but I’m keeping up the pressure on my elected officials to remove Schumer and Durbin. The silence in the Senate against this debacle makes me agree that there are more than just the Vichy 8 who need to be primaried.

The computer did an update overnight without permission and everything is cattywampus. Also, it’s not saving things properly. Hopefully, it saved the ghostwriting I sent off yesterday properly (I did check before I sent it, and it seemed fine). But I’ve lost half a document I saved last night before I finished for the night, and I’m annoyed. It’s the 4th time this particular document hasn’t saved properly. I hate Mercury Retrograde.

The snow switched over to rain, so at least I didn’t have to dig out the car. It almost looks like March out there.

Two stray cats chased each other in a neighbor’s yard this morning. (John, our neighborhood cat whisperer makes sure they are cared for). Bea watched from the window, wide-eyed, glad that is no longer her life.

Tessa is having a good time, moving from one rocking chair to the other in the apartment (we have three – one in the living room, one in the sewing room, and one in the reading corner of my office). She loves rocking chairs, especially when they are next to the heater.

Have a good one!

Published in: on November 13, 2025 at 8:19 am  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Tues. Nov. 4, 2025: I Swear, There’s a Portal. . .

image courtesy of  Karl Egger via pixabay.com

Tuesday, November 4, 2025

Waxing Moon

Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Cloudy and chilly

Hello! Welcome to a new month as well as a new week!

The Community Tarot Reading for the Week is up here. We’re using the Tarot of the Crows for November (as we did last November), but a new spread. Check it out!

Hope you had a great weekend.

Friday was a mucky day, weather-wise. I gritted my teeth and renewed the AAA Northeast membership. I don’t like them, but with an old car, I need the security. I started at the grocery store, and did a solid grocery shop, giving us options along with the leftovers (or else we won’t want to see another noodle for weeks). I got some solid deals, and noticed there was a lot of panic buying, with SNAP under threat. Then, it was the regular library stop-off for drop off and pickup, and then a couple of other errands that didn’t take long, including picking up more ink for the printer. Because I am always running out of printer ink.

Home, hauled everything up the stairs, put it away. It was almost lunchtime by then.

I did some background research on an event that happened early after the turn of the 21st century that, several months ago, sparked an idea. However, with some of the parties still alive, I am worried that writing something inspired by what happened might cause harm. Although for the exploration I want to do, it would be changed quite a bit. The background solidified my instinctual dislike for one of the parties involved (from that person’s first person account, no less), although I realize I am probably being unfair. I know I’m being vague here, but, as I said, I don’t wish to cause harm. The situation fascinates (and somewhat angers) me, and the dramatic potential in it is huge, but there would also need to be a way to do it without causing harm. Would the things I want to explore and the changes I would make from actual reality take it far enough away from “what really happened” (which is quite dramatic and tragic in itself) so that it wouldn’t cause harm to those still alive, or would those changes cause more harm?

Cooked dinner, we had an enjoyable evening honoring the ancestors, and I did the tarot reading to give me a sense of the upcoming year. As always, decisions along the way change the outcome, but it gives me a sense of 2026, and what could use a bit of attention.

We’re not going to talk about That Thing’s Gatsby party when people are being kicked off SNAP. I, for one, do not believe the program will ever be up and running again. That Thing enjoyed watching Gaza starve and now wants to do it at home. That Thing only gets pleasure from cruelty, and no one stops him. It’s revolting.

Up early on Saturday. I put the ingredients for beef stew in the crockpot, and got the Portuguese sweet bread (a Brook Dojny recipe I’ve often used) started. Got some housework done. Then, I had to finish some paperwork and hotfoot it down to the post office to send it certified before noon. I met a puppy on the way home, who got scared when a car backfired, so I spent some time playing with the puppy (with his human’s permission) until his anxiety passed. I also got the story out on submission to the publication that only had a single day submission window.

I was worried about the bread not rising enough, so I moved it to a warmer spot. I had hoped to make a batch of “angel biscuits” from a cookbook I reviewed about a year ago and really like, but I was low on yeast (although I found extra Crisco in the cupboard, which made me happy). So I switched to another recipe in that cookbook instead, for more traditional buttermilk biscuits, and those turned out well.

By the time the biscuits came out of the oven, I had a Swedish visiting cake ready to go in, and when that came out of the oven, the bread was ready to go in. The bread actually turned out quite well, in spite of my worries.

So Saturday was very much a baking day. I was very glad for the anti-fatigue mat. It made a huge difference for my back and knees.

The stew turned out really well, and there’s enough for 4 more meals, so some of it went into the freezer. The ingredients, all together, only cost around $15 (the meat was on sale), so I think we did pretty well there.

Read in the evening, played with a poem, did the ceremony for those I knew who died, turned back the clocks. Slept well, up early. I’m always energized the first few days we “fall back.”

Good morning routine, good 15-minute writing session (went over), played with a poem. After breakfast, I took down the spiderweb curtains. I put up the red paisley curtains in the living room, the door to the porch, and the front door. I put the green striped curtains from the 1940’s up in the kitchen. In my office, I put up a set of gold-toned sheers that I bought for the winter holidays. I was a little worried they would look gaudy rather than festive, but I think they’re okay. My mom really likes them. I have to get used to them. They change and warm the quality of light in the room quite a bit (which was the hope). Although, with the sun streaming through, it looks like I’ve left a lamp on in the room!

Put away the Samhain decorations. Rearranged a bunch of stuff in the kitchen. Everything was done by 11 AM. This is why I love “fall back.”

Wrote the book review. I did the Community Tarot Reading for the Week, and explained the new spread. You can find it here. Wrote and prepared the bills that had to go out. played with the cats, put together the maps and directions for Monday’s adventure.

Sunday night’s ceremony was honoring children who have died in the past year. Between school shootings and war, there were quite a few. It’s always an emotionally draining ceremony, but necessary.

Up very early on Monday, even before the alarm. I rarely set an alarm, but I knew I had to be out of the house before 8, and wanted to make sure I didn’t oversleep. No worries about that, not with “fall back.”

Yoga, meditation, 15-minute writing, early breakfast, Real People clothes, a little makeup, packed up the computer, breakfast, and out the door before 8. I had to re-jiggy my errands route because of the construction, but I got the bills mailed and gas in the car, the headed out.

The first part of the route was the same on 116 as I take to Greenfield, but going south instead of north when I hit 112. It was a pretty day, and nice to see how the colors and foliaged changed since the last trip in this direction. However, just before Savoy, GPS (aka Murder Maps) dropped out again, and couldn’t be bothered to ever come back in. I had printed out the maps for this possibility, and found my way to 9E. In Williamsburg, I stopped in the post office parking lot to try to get GPS working again. 500 feet after I pulled out, it dropped out again.

I sort of knew the general area because of trips to Trader Joe’s in Hadley and to Eastworks in Easthampton, when I was part of an ekphrastic poetry exhibit. I’m getting more comfortable driving through downtown Northampton. I mean, I’ve driven in NYC and Providence and San Francisco, so Northampton isn’t that much of a challenge, once I figured out how things are configured. I’d like to go back and spend more time there one day, and meander around Smith College a bit. I had no idea how to find Hampshire College, but figured there’s be a sign.

There was a wonky sign, on the turn to 47, and then another wonkier sign for Bay Road. We were in the middle of farmland, very pretty, but I was very much wondering where the college was.

Suddenly, there it was, in the middle of all the fields. I didn’t realize the Eric Carle Museum was on the Hampshire campus. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s picture book art, you can learn about it here. I’d like to go back and actually visit the museum at some point.

I followed the loop around and then stopped at The Yiddish Book Center to ask for directions. A very nice woman in the parking lot helped me.

I continued to follow the loop and found the Kern Center, where we were meeting, and the admissions/visitor parking lot just beyond it. I put my typed up parking pass with my confirmation number and the Feminist Writing Center information on the dashboard. The College never sent me the real permit. But since it was a visitor lot, I figured I had a bit of leeway.

Walked to the Center, which was very lively, especially with the café in the bottom. I ordered a large hot chocolate. Everyone seemed very young, not just chronologically, but emotionally. Still, it was energetic, and overall, people seemed happy and excited to be there, which is always a good thing.

Tromped up the stairs to the meeting room, meeting the group leader and the new program manager on the stairs. The meeting room is lovely, with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the campus.

This is definitely going to influence the campus where Zack eventually gets tenure in the Nina Bell books, although I want the architecture to be more like Smith and/or Holyoke. The architecture at Hampshire is quite mid-century modern. I mean, it’s in the middle of the field, so it doesn’t really matter, but for my fictional college, I want something more classic and gothic.

Settled into a seat, set up the laptop, plugged in, chatted with some of the other attendees. There were about a dozen or so people in person, and one on Zoom. At 10 AM, we settled in and wrote for two hours.

The hum of the café downstairs could get a little distracting at times, but overall, the time flew. And it was nice to look up and out through the windows. I’d seated myself to face out, not have my back to the windows, which would have made me uncomfortable.

I wrote 20 pages on the Joy section of I WILL BE DIFFERENT. I have two more scenes to go, and I wrote some quick notes on them. I have to cut a lot in this section, and in the Amanda section, if this is going to be a single play. If it’s a duology or a trilogy, I have more room, but it also makes it harder to produce.

Write first, worry about production stats later.

At noon, we went around the table to introduce ourselves and talk a little about what we were working on. There was only one other person there who wasn’t an academic. She was a fellow playwright, tweaking a play that will be read in NYC next week. There was also a guy from Venice, Italy, working on a dissertation, some other PhD and master’s students, and some faculty members. Some were doing research, others working on papers, one worked on a cover letter for a grant. So it’s a nice mix of projects.

Lunch was brought in, small sandwiches and salad. We chatted for a bit, then I gathered up my belongings and headed back out.

Of course, Murder Maps still wasn’t working, and the printed out map (also from Murder Maps) had me going the wrong way on Rt. 47. I didn’t notice at first, because there was a construction on the road coming out past the museum.

By the time I reached Holyoke, I figured it out. I tried to connect to Murder Maps again, but no luck. If they’re going to force people onto GPS rather than paper maps, then it has to work ALL the time. No excuses. I’m sure this is tied to the AWS outage, which seems to still be going on, even though they deny it.

I turned around and went back the way I came and found the road going the right way and getting to 9W, which I needed to get back. I stopped again in Williamsburg because I was fraught from all those wrong directions, and bought doughnuts to bring home. I like Williamsburg. I’d like to spend more time there one day. I took 9W all the way to Pittsfield (which was the plan, since I had a stop in Pittsfield on the way home). 9 is just a much easier route going and coming, and that’s what I need to do when I head out that way.

I swear there’s a portal to the fae realm on those roads, and that’s why I’m constantly being turned around.

Anyway, it was a reasonably smooth ride back on 9W, through Windsor and Dalton. I stopped at Michael’s to see what kind of fabric they had that I could use for “Vast.”

I found three fabrics which are more abstract than my original vision (which was somewhat naturalistic, but I really liked the ideas and sensations these fabrics sparked. I got a yard of each (at a good price), and some muslin. I’m going to pattern and stitch the pieces to the muslin, and then fasten the muslin to the backing (which I hope will be a navy flannel), and then quilt. The piece is only going to be about a foot or a foot and a half, a fairly small piece with a large name. I will work on drafting the pattern piece for the overall shape that I need from the muslin this weekend. I think I need to build the piece from the center out. I also have to rethink how to symbolize the tiny human in the vastness of nature. The image I had planned when it was more naturalistic won’t work with the more abstract design, so the symbol has to morph as well.

Hopefully, the quilt shop in Williamstown will have the navy blue flannel I want for backing. If they don’t, maybe the shop in Bennington has it.

Yes, there’s a WilliamsTOWN one town over with Williams College, the Clark Art Institute, Wild Oats, Wild Soul River, and a lot of other cool stuff, and a WilliamsBURG about 45-55 minutes east of here.

I’m usually like a cat in a mouse shop at Michael’s around the holidays, but I wasn’t impressed with this year’s selections. Too much is in a really gaudy shade of pink. It’s not the Victorian rose shade that’s popular, but Disney pink, and, no thank you. I did find some velvet ribbon in dark red and dark green (buy 1, get 3 free), and was able to do enough math to figure out that it’s more than I need for all the cookie platters. I should have sourced the organza ribbon I usually use in summer, and I forgot. The organza ribbon doubles in price around Halloween. But the narrow velvet ribbon will work just as well, and be festive, just not fluffy.

And I managed to keep everything in budget, which is also a good thing, in these days of escalating costs.

I got home around 3:30, which was great. Some holiday stuff I’d sourced for a project arrived (much faster than expected), and the holiday cards I ordered from Peter Pauper also arrived (earlier than expected). I just love their stationery, journal books, and cards.

Got everything unpacked and sorted out.

While I am glad that I went yesterday, attending these sessions regularly in person is not an option. If I use the easier roads (9), it comes in at close to 2 hours in each direction, which is a 4-hour round trip, to sit in a room to write for 2 hours and then eat lunch. Which is worthwhile, but the travel is a bit much. I will attend virtually as often as possible, because I like being part of it. I don’t think I will attend the December meeting/lunch, even if the weather is okay. It’s just too much right now. I hope to get out there in spring, and maybe either visit the museum or the Smith art museum or hit Trader Joe’s while I’m out in that direction. I’m glad I went, but I don’t think it’s viable to travel like that regularly, especially with the car being so old. Plus, those four hours of travel time are additional writing hours when I attend virtually.

So, I’ll do it when it suits the schedule and I can add in some other stops out that way, but not try to rearrange my schedule to get there weekly or even monthly. As long as there is a virtual option, that makes more sense for the bulk of the sessions.

Started reading the next book for review. I want to get that finished, and both reviews out tomorrow so I can get more assigned. Played with a poem.

Cooked dinner – a chicken goulash, which turned out well. Read in the evening and played with the cats. Did the ceremony for animals, both those who were in my life in past years, those of my friends, strays, and those endangered/going extinct.

Slept well, up at 4. Tessa started singing soon after (since for her, it was 5). I gave up and got up around 5, and started the morning routine.

I have a bunch of catching up to do from yesterday. I want to read over what I wrote, tweak, and print it out. I want to get some writing in. This morning’s writing session (Day 75 of 90) was sorting out some ideas for two upcoming radio deadlines. I need to find a way to get those into the schedule. I also have to get back on the stick with the ghostwriting.

I have to do some math, and figure out a few things with financials. And I have to prepare a statement to the regulators. Berkshire Gas wants an 18% rate increase. My income hasn’t gone up that much, and, since I’ve lived here, my rate has gone up 120%. My income sure as heck hasn’t grown that much. Along with the fact they refuse to answer questions or pick up mail that’s been sent certified. They’ve had enough increases. They can start cutting executive salaries. They’re making enough profit.

Anyway, that’s the latest. Have a great day, and we’ll check back in tomorrow!

Published in: on November 4, 2025 at 8:34 am  Comments (2)  
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Tues. Oct. 14, 2025: Course Correction for the Week

image courtesy of  Setiawan Heriadi via pixabay.com

Tuesday, October 14, 2025

Waning Moon

Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Pluto direct as of yesterday

Gray and cold

Welcome to a new week!

Friday turned out to be a sunny day, but cold. I was ready to chop up the Sidewalk Chewing Demons with their own chainsaws, they were so noisy. What happened to the regulations on heavy machinery noise? It’s really unhealthy for everyone.

Anyway, Friday morning, I did a good chunk of work on the first scene in the Joy section of I WILL BE DIFFERENT. I like the way it’s going.

I paused to take out the garbage, scrape the frost off the car, and head out. Post office, then grocery store. I did a good shop, refilling some staples for the month, and versatile items for meal planning. I was surprised by the gaps in the shelves from name brands. Not sure if we’re hitting supply chain issues again, or if the deliveries hadn’t yet arrived. Or maybe it’s the latest slew of food recalls, since this adminstration fired food inspectors. Lots on sale, though.

Hauled it all home and up the stairs. Sent off the poems I’d read in our reading; one of the poets is collecting them in a PDF just for us, so we can enjoy each other’s work. Got out a play submission. Over 1000 emails came in while I was in residence. While I kept  up with some of them, there were still over 900 to start slogging through. I managed a little over 300 over the course of the afternoon.

I read a book about Elaine May and her work. She had one of the one-acts in DEATH-DEFYING ACTS, for which I was the wardrobe supervisor off-Broadway for most of its run, which was just under a year. I left the show shortly before it closed, because one of my own shows was in the Adelaide Fringe, and the actress and I headed for Australia. The book skimmed over the show, concentrating on its earlier incarnation in Chicago, rather than on the off-Broadway run. Heaven forbid the writer do any actually deep research beyond what’s easily available via Google, and, you know, interview anyone who was with the show. It’s not like we aren’t all clearly listed in easily available credits. And no, I’m not saying the writer should have interviewed me – wardrobe keeps their mouth shut. But it would have been nice to interview someone, not just print a paragraph from Michael Blakemore’s diary – which was printed in the NEW YORKER in 1996.  So it’s not even like the writer sought out something unique, just got permission to publish an excerpt of previously published material. Which is what most of the book read like, and May deserves better. Michael and I spent many a night in the bar during the out-of-town tryouts drinking to survive. I liked and respected him a lot. It was not easy to get that show open, for many reasons. According to the book, the show broke ticket sales records/$$$ Off-Broadway for the time. You’d never know it, the way the producer nickel-and-dimed us about things like laundry and replacing underwear as it wore out.

Cooked dinner, had a quiet evening reading and playing with the cats. Went to bed at a late enough time that I would have slept through the night if Tessa hadn’t begun her Breakfast Operetta before 5 AM. Sigh.

Good early morning routine. Did some good work figuring out the 1-2K story that’s due Nov. 1 (the only day it can be submitted). We will see how that works.  I might have enough to write my way in and then rip it all apart and rearrange it in the next draft. It’s short, so I don’t want to get too complicated.

I was very sad to hear about Diane Keaton’s death. Her work was so unique, detailed, and precise (even when it seemed out there). From what I’ve heard from those who worked with her, she was a delightful person, who was kind and loved her dog. She had the courage to remain single in a world that wanted her married, even if it was sequentially to a bunch of different men. She stuck to her core integrity and a person, and as an artist, something we can all admire.

Took the day fairly slowly. The focus was mostly housework and decorating. We finished the rest of the Indian food for lunch, which was delicious, and I cooked comfort food of pork chops, mashed potatoes, and red cabbage for dinner. I sorted through a bunch of research books from the library that have to go back this week and next week.

I was invited to an artist crib crawl locally, which sounded like fun, but I got caught up in working on something and lost track of time. They happen fairly regularly, and I’d like to start participating in the future.

Slept well until around 3:30, woke up, went back to sleep, slept hard with dreams about an alt-reality with a younger me, and overslept until 7. The cats were not amused that their breakfast was an hour and a half late.

Tried a new-to-me muffin recipe. It’s decent, but it needed more liquid ingredients. I should have trusted my instincts as I mixed, instead of following the recipe. But I tend to follow the recipe the first time, to see how it needs tweaking. It’s from an author whose work is usually consistent, so I was surprised. If I do it again, I will add a little milk, and probably some ginger. The melted butter and the orange marmalade weren’t enough to keep it a good moist consistency for a muffin. Even with the marmalade, cranberries, and walnuts, it was a little bland. I think ginger would work better than cinnamon. I’m tempted to put some allspice in, because I love allspice, but I’m not sure how that would balance with the marmalade. Or maybe try a little vanilla, which I usually use in baking.

The result isn’t terrible, but not what I wanted. I might serve them, as we finish them up this week, warmed with more marmalade on them to spark them a bit.

I did my morning meditation/writing later in the morning, after the baking, and Bea was confused. The yoga was pushed back to the afternoon.

I tossed some chicken and vegetables in the crockpot. I need to get over to Wild Oats this coming week and get some bulk herbs. I’m out of bay leaf, thyme, tarragon, and the plants from the porch have given us their last of the season.

It was kind of a dreary, misty day, with the storm coming in a little earlier than originally predicted. A good day to curl up with a book. I did some more decorating. I still have to put up some lights and candles, and then we will add photos to the Ancestor Altar as the days go on, but the bulk of it is done. The light coming through the spiderweb curtains is really pretty.

Worked on the grant proposal. I was feeling so good about it a couple of weeks ago, and now I have doubts. I worked on it for five hours, and got it to the point where I felt it was ready to send off. Either they will fund me, or they will not. It was good to detail the pieces I plan to build over the next year, and how I will work with both text and visuals. If anything, it made things clearer in my own head, which is always a good thing.

Had some admin that had to be done, too. The inbox number is creeping up again.

I found some small, pewter picture frame ornaments that I need for the piece I’m building for the April 2026 show. They are usually easier to get in fall running up to Christmas, so I grabbed them when I saw them. They are smaller than I expected, but also nicer, and I can make them work. The overall piece itself will be smaller than originally envisioned, which will work. I think it will be around 18” tall, not more than 24”. The frames are pretty, and will influence the overall design and possibly how some of the rest of the piece is painted. I think I will also make a handout that goes with the piece, about the women honored in it, that viewers can take with them.

A book one of my fellow poets suggested also arrived: THE STRATEGIC POET by Diane Lockward. It’s not something one can sit and read in one go. There’s so much information, and I want to work through the prompts and different formats. There’s so much to learn, and it’s exciting to start learning.

I used my green notebook from the 15-minute daily writing experiment a lot on Sunday! That’s the safest place to keep the ideas, since I index along the margins and can actually find things again. Indexing (the real kind, at the back of books) is becoming a lost art.

When my brain hit overload, I switched over to the next Bruno mystery, by Martin Walker, set in France. I like how the series builds, especially with the character arcs. I like how he expands the possibilities of the procedural.

The crockpot chicken tasted good. We have a lot of various leftovers to eat this week, so I won’t be cooking much, just reheating.

I had trouble getting to sleep, and then, once I did, I overslept again. My teal grotto is nice and cozy.

The morning light was an eerie gray with streaks of pink Monday morning. Very atmospheric.

Good morning yoga, meditation, 15-minute writing session.

Warmed, served with extra marmalade, the muffins are tolerable. I’m still going to tweak the recipe if I try it again.

The wind started picking up mid-morning, and I was glad we brought in cushions and small items from the back balcony. Dealt with a mountain of email, but the inbox doesn’t seem to go down. There are, however, some intriguing job listings that sound like work I would enjoy. AND, I’m putting together and LOI for Encyclopaedia Britannica (yes, that’s how they still spell it). Even though the listed job isn’t for me, when they fill it, the new division is one for which I’d like to work. Working for an encyclopedia would be a dream come true.

I reworked a resume for the grant proposal and I’m thinking of overhauling all the other resumes, too.

Of course, there were the jobs like the proposal writer for $10/hour (not even legal in this state), and the “freelance contractor” expected to work 40 hours/week on 1099 without benefits, so the employer saves money. No, thanks on both of those.

It was a holiday, so no Feminist Writers Community session. Hopefully, I can join them virtually next Monday. I think, next Monday, I have one session with them from 10-12, and one from 12-2 with Honor Roll. And then Athena Project at night. All the week’s ZOOM slots in one day!

But four hours of writing with no excuses in company should net something.

I got some research done, I worked on LOIs, I got my next assignment for review. I got it loaded into the Kindle, so I could take it and read it in the jury holding room. Cleaned out my purse. Oh, my. Good thing I cleaned it out before it went through a security scan. I’d stashed some sharp objects in there on my travels. I was able to unload them and put them away where they belong. And I really do not need to have 6 lipsticks in my purse. One is just fine. We filled in our mail-in ballots. I will drop them off at City Hall later this week.

Got my notes back on the next ghostwriting. I will get started on those at some point today. 10 working days if I’m one-and-done, a little longer if I’m seated on a case. I invoiced for the portion that was approved.

So that all felt good.  I struggled with some paperwork that has to get out this week, and could not get it finished. I have to be very precise and evidence-based, and make sure all my ducks are in a row, along with some geese and turkeys.

I checked the jury website mid-afternoon, as instructed, and found a message that my jury service for the day was cancelled, but I was not off the hook unless I showed up to the court. Um? Does that mean I’m supposed to check in every day for. . .? It also says I don’t need to show up until I get another summons. I printed it all out, and I’m not going. I later got another email from the jury service, repeating that I didn’t have to show up, but I would be summoned next year instead.

With my luck, my next summons will be in the middle of winter.

We’ll deal with that as it comes.

But that means that today, I can get back to my “normal” freelance schedule. And figure out an ETA for the ghostwriting, which I think will be Oct. 27. Chatted with a colleague about a social media chat I will host on the 23rd.

Heated up leftovers, finished the next Bruno mystery, which had a sad, awful bit in the climactic sequence, but with the first response in such a book that ever felt real.

Had trouble falling asleep, and then staying asleep, although I was glad not to have to set the alarm for 5 AM. Tessa howled me out of bed by quarter to six, though, normal time. Good morning routine, although I wrote 30 minutes instead of 15. I had more to do. I will have to type some of these notes that are pertinent to the Nina Bell mysteries, where I’m figuring out timelines and arcs.

I’m getting ready to settle into a writing day, at least until I leave for yoga this afternoon. I will work on I WILL BE DIFFERENT and on the short story in the morning (along with some necessary admin that has to be finished today), then switch to the ghostwriting in the afternoon. Yoga tonight, which I’m looking forward to attending.

I have to readjust, mentally and schedule-wise, to NOT being at jury duty, after all that build-up. Still, I’m glad to have the time to get the work done.

Have a good one!

Published in: on October 14, 2025 at 6:52 am  Comments (5)  
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Thurs. Oct. 9, 2025: A Day of Liminal Space

Last load out of the studio. Photo by Devon Ellington

Thursday, October 9, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Clear and cold

You can read the latest on the garden over on Gratitude and Growth here.

Tuesday was supposed to be a full day, and that’s not what it turned out. I am so disappointed in myself. I could not get back on track.

The fire alarm testing in the morning threw me off more than it should have, but it went on and on and on, and I wasn’t sure if it was a test or not. I figured if I smelled smoke or a fireman banged on the door, there was something to worry about.

But I couldn’t get deep into the work. It was surface, planning, practicalities, rather than deep work. I feel like I frittered away too much time this year. Next year, when we have one day less, I have to figure out how to manage my time better. Let me be clear: this is all on me. The space and the atmosphere are all set up for work. I was just all over the place.

I managed to cut the batting and to wrestle it into the stitched top/backing. I pinned it in place all around, and then stitched the center section down. Although I’m calling it stitching it in the ditch, it’s technically a fraction outside the ditch, because double stitching along the quilt top looks just a little too rigid, and everything in this piece is supposed to be just a fraction off, to provoke discomfort.

Depending on what my schedule is like going into next year, I may get up even earlier to go into the studio (I’m talking like 3:30 or 4 AM), then take a break for breakfast, do some more writing, then nap either late morning or between lunch and the workshop. I have to see how my energy levels are, and where my strongest creative hours fall.

I also need to block off a day before things begin, meaning that I hand over all necessary client work two days before I go in, not hitting “send” on a client project an hour and change before I run out the door, the way I did this year. If I get everything off my desk a day earlier, that gives me time to block off hours to look through various work and pick one or two projects on which to focus, instead of hauling in too many and not knowing where to start. I was packed and organized just fine, but I didn’t have enough thinking time in advance of arrival. So I need to build in more of that. I wasn’t sure what to work on, so I threw in too many projects, and then didn’t know where to start.

I will probably alternate between writing and textile-text, because I like how they play off each other, and I found working on the textile project soothing.

Within the residency, I felt like I was unfocused and didn’t get enough done. But looking back, that’s simply not true.

During the residency, I:

            –drafted two poems, through multiple drafts, and workshopped them;

            –wrote the Amanda/Mick breakup scene from I WILL BE DIFFERENT;

            –figured out Joy’s section of the play, which will be the final section, including the ending (although it’s not yet written);

            –figured out Alice’s section (although it’s not yet written). Alice is Milly’s mother.

            –started to get a better idea of Margaret’s section (Alice’s mother). I keep changing her name. We will see what we end up with. Her section will start the play, shortly after the turn into the 20th century;

            –started a handful of poems that did not go anywhere within the residency, but there is a kernel in one of two of those ideas that might grow into something in the future;

            –got the backing onto the large version of “The Human Compass”, along with wrestling the batting into it, and getting the center section stitched in the ditch. That was everything I “had” to get done in the larger space. Now I can work on it at my own pace, since there’s no deadline for the piece.

            –planned “Vast” which will be the textile-and-text piece for the January show at FutureLabs, to the point where I can now start sourcing material and building it;

            –thought through some more practicalities about the forgotten women piece built out of wooden bowls, wooden spoons, and photographs for the April show at FutureLabs;

            –conceived a piece comprised of three photographs with three short poems from the dozens of photos I’ve taken over the years of the Boiler House (for which the Collective is named), all together on a single canvas. Each will be self-contained, but together, they will tell a larger story (although I’m not yet sure what this is), and that is also pointed to a FutureLabs show;

            –read through CONSEQUENCE, and now have to decide if I want to include a social media/doxxing section in it, and if I can do it without taking the focus away from the main drive of the play. I’m still not sure it can sustain the weight of being a full-length. It will NOT be ready to submit by November 1, so I will have a conversation with the theatre interested in seeing a contemporary full-length with a small cast that I would rather keep working and submit something further along in the drafting process next year;

            –read through CONNECTION. I like the rhythms and the conflict set up. Now I have to do some research to get the facts about the adoption process, the laws around closed adoptions and searches for parents. I did some of it for a project for the ghostwriting client, but I need to go into more depth;

            –started reading Iris Woolcock’s book about her journey in a camper with her cat on the Alaska highway right after it opened in the late 1940’s, which is delightful. (Iris is one of my Playland Painters);

            –got in some background reading for the historical mystery due Dec. 30 in the time of Queen Anne;

            –came up with the opening for the short comic noir mystery due on November 1.

I also workshopped all but one workshop day with my fellow poets, giving comments even when I did not bring in anything. We had our reading at the library, which was great, and we are excited to go back. I wandered the museum. I went out to dinner with my fellow poets, and we got to hang out in the apartment in the evenings and chat. So it was a rich collaborative time, as well as studio time, although there never feels like enough studio time.

Looking back at the week, I got more done than it felt like when I was within it.

Adding the anti-fatigue mat was a wonderful choice. During the writing, I had it under the table and under my feet. One wouldn’t think it mattered when I was sitting, but it made a big difference. And then, when I had to crawl around on the floor with the textile piece, it saved my knees on that concrete floor.

Next year, I might take my travel yoga mat for the apartment and do my morning yoga in my room before I eat breakfast and head to the studio (unless I head over before breakfast at 4 AM). I tried doing the practice in the studio at different times, and it was too erratic. The morning meditation and 15-minute writing sessions first thing on arrival in-studio worked well, so that will continue.

Next year, I also have to remember to bring hand cream with me. I forgot this year, and regretted it. I will also look, in thrift shops, for a small, decorative, QUIET clock to bring with me. I hate relying on my phone for time. I have a brass Big Ben alarm clock, but it’s too noisy to bring into the studio. I also have to remember to pack my travel set of wooden spoons. Yes, I have a set of wooden spoons I used to take with me whenever I was somewhere with a kitchen. I think they are still in the travel bag I used to use. The residency apartment doesn’t have wooden spoons in any of the drawers. Even though I only cook breakfast there, I prefer to use wooden spoons. For years, I always carried my own set of wooden spoons, can opener, wine opener when I travelled.  I’ve carried the wine opener to the residency every year, but I forgot about the wooden spoons.

The morning’s writing was frustrating, but the day improved. Since the museum was closed and we couldn’t get lunch from the café, we were sent across the street to Tres Ninos. We got our lunches to go and ate at the picnic tables in the museum’s courtyard. It was hot and sunny and quite lovely. We disbursed after, and I got some stitching done, and changed my mind three times about which scene from I WILL BE DIFFERENT to bring into the workshop.

I finally decided on the scene where Elaine convinces Amanda to open her own bank account to which Mick doesn’t have access. Something Milly could not do at Amanda’s age.

Our final workshop was good. I was talking with one of my fellow poets about how nice it was to have continuity from last year to this year – we know each other’s writing, now, and there’s a working language. We also know the traps we tend to fall into, and can give a hand up out of them.

We went to Spice Root in Williamstown for dinner. It was wonderful! The food was excellent, and our server was hilarious. I ended up with everyone’s leftovers, since they couldn’t take them back once we left, and I will have a lovely feast with my mom tonight.

We came back to the apartment and hung out for a bit. When people left, my flatmate and I hung out and chatted for a bit, then I packed and fell into bed. It was my last chance to enjoy that big, comfy bed until next year!

On Wednesday morning, I did not set an alarm. I woke up naturally a little after six, started the coffee, got washed and dressed, cooked breakfast, did the dishes .My flatmate came to keep me company and eat her breakfast.

I packed the last few things, and we helped each other strip the beds and pack the laundry bags. It’s so much easier for two people to do it. We emptied the trash into a single bag. I took down the trash and the recycling on my way home to pick up the car.

There was a light rain, and my flatmate was kind enough to lend me her umbrella. I stopped home to pick up some more bags for the food, and my raincoat.

Drove back to the residency apartments. Packed up the food. My flatmate helped carry everything down and pack the car. I headed over to the studio for a bit. The internet worked, but I decided to keep the scheduled post up.

I got some writing done (longhand), and then walked back over to the apartment to help my flatmate and some of my colleagues get their stuff out of the apartments and down the stairs. Those three flights are a lot.

Back to the studio, and packed up my books, papers, the wellness corner. I left up the sewing corner, meaning to get more done once I got more writing done, but I ran out of steam pretty quickly and knew it wasn’t going to happen. So I packed up all that, too.

I left a little after noon. The rain had stopped, and the sun was coming out. I parked and unloaded the car. I loaded everything into my interior stairwell, and then slowly brough bags up and unpacked them over the afternoon. I still have some books to unpack, but I’m rethinking where and how I want to shelve them.

Played with the cats, caught up on the mail. There is paperwork on the next few days. Urgh.

My mom did really well on her own, and the cats made sure one of them was always with her. Tessa must have read Bea in, because she stepped up and did her part. My mom had her daily sheets (in lieu of the whiteboard), and did each day at her own pace. She could enjoy the nice weather on the porch, watered the plants, fed the cats (they weren’t about to let her miss mealtime), read her books. So, she had a good stretch, and felt confident on being on her own for a few days. This was a good test balloon for when I start to travel again for my own shows, or other residencies.

I started reading Volume I of Anselm Keifer’s notebooks. He has a large installation at MASS MoCA. They are interesting. I also started reading THE GHOST OF THE HARDY BOYS by Leslie McFarlane, who was the ghostwriter on them for many years. It’s hilarious.

I heated up leftovers for dinner and went to bed early.

Woke up at the usual time this morning, and the cats were happy for the regular routine again. Fed the cats, morning yoga, meditation, 15-minute writing. I’m about to join the online meditation group in Concord (Charlotte will be thrilled).

The rest of the day is easing back into being home. I will do some writing in the morning, and catch up on email and paperwork in the afternoon.  I have a library committee meeting tonight. Tomorrow will be a regular day – writing, errands, clients.

I have to sort out the project folders I unpacked and designate project spaces on my worktable.

I’m not going to rush today. I want to enjoy it.

I am so grateful to my fellow poets for so much. It was a really good week, and I’m already looking forward to next year!

Published in: on October 9, 2025 at 7:29 am  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Tues. Oct. 7, 2025: Residency Day 5

Desk view. Photo by Devon Ellington

Tuesday, October 7, 2025

Last Day of the Full Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Cloudy and cool

This will be much shorter than the usual Tuesday post, because I’m only catching up on yesterday, not the entire weekend.

It was a lovely, warm, sunny day here. While it’s too warm for the season, I’m also enjoying the warmth while we have it.

I wrote my way around a lot of stuff, trying to find a way in, and didn’t feel like I was successful. I wrote a poem to take to the workshop that was born out of sheer frustration that I couldn’t solidify what I was trying to contain in the words.

I also switched sewing machines. The one I started with wasn’t hefty enough for what I need, so I switched to a “heavy duty” machine. I had to unthread the previous bobbin, which I did by winding it onto a bamboo skewer. The bobbin wound smooth as silk.

Then, I could get back to writing.

I finally managed to get in some solid work on I WILL BE DIFFERENT, writing the Amanda-Mick breakup scene.

I checked out the R & D store on the way to lunch, and it was such a beautiful day, we had lunch outside again. After lunch, there were group photos in the Boiler House, after which the Collective is named.

I came back and pinned the backing to the textile piece. I put it through the machine, which stitches it like butter. I got the three sides stitched that I wanted, and it’s hanging properly.

By then, it was time to head over to the workshop. We had a great session, really wonderful work, people trying new things, which I love. I got terrific feedback on my poem, and I’m looking forward to digging in for that rewrite.

Swung by the studio to get what I needed for the apartment. We all agreed that there’s a weird smell in the women’s restroom on this floor. I think it smells like sauerkraut, but who knows? It was really bad on Sunday, and I hoped Monday’s cleaning would solve it, but it was back yesterday. I have not yet ventured in there today. Stay tuned!  😉

Dropped things off in the apartment, and then we headed up to Grazie’s new location, over on State Street. Mill Town Circus is in town, and the bright blue and yellow tent is up in the field behind the restaurant. The food was so darned good. I had pan-seared salmon with sauteed vegetables and garlic mashed potatoes. I probably should have eaten half and saved the rest, the portion was so huge, but I ate the whole thing. It was wonderful! And good wine, a nice change.

After dinner, we convened in our apartment to have our planning meeting for next year. That went well, although our dates still have to be finalized, and it will be one day shorter next year, which is disappointing. But we’ll all keep our tasks for the Collective, and we all hope to come back.

We sat and chatted for a little longer. I put through a load of laundry. Coming home with clean clothes is a nice feeling!

Just before I went to bed, I got an email from the anthology editor who accepted the comic mystery set on Cape Cod and rejected “Scent Memory.” The publisher for those anthologies is shutting down. I’m not particularly surprised – I mean, I still hadn’t seen the contract for the story, and publication dates kept getting pushed out. It also reinforces the decision not to work the way this editor likes to work – write on spec and do at least two rounds of edits before knowing if something is accepted. The editor said there were efforts to place the anthology elsewhere. I’ll give it some time, and then make other plans for that story. Learn and move on, right?

I mean, I feel badly for the editor, but it confirms this is not a good way for me to work.

Slept well, although I had weird dreams. It was hard to get out of that comfy bed this morning, but I managed it, and got myself out the door and to the studio a little before 7. Morning meditation was interrupted as the fire alarms went off several times (I assume they were testing them, since this is the museum’s closed day).

The morning plan is to write. Between lunch and workshop, I want to get the batting into the textile piece, pin it in place, and then maybe stitch the center. I found that working from the center out works better than the edges in doing the last piece. I also have to rethink the scale of the embellishments on this larger piece. Fortunately, there’s no deadline.

And I have a good idea of what I want to do for “Vast”, so now I can start sourcing fabric. I don’t need all that much (unless I make a lot of mistakes). It will be a fairly compact piece. I’ll let the poem form as I work on the textile elements.

I can’t believe this is our last full studio day. The time has gone so quickly! I need to get a grant application out, but I think I will do that after I get home. I have all the bits; they just need assembly.

There’s been so much wonderful, supportive feedback, and great conversation.

Have a great day!

Published in: on October 7, 2025 at 7:24 am  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , ,

Mon. Oct. 6, 2025: Residency Days 2, 3, 4

Inspiration wall & reading corner. Photo by Devon Ellington

Monday, October 6, 2025

Full Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Usually I do an “intent for the week” post on Monday, but since I’m still in the studio, I wanted to share that experience.

I do, however, have the Community Tarot Reading for the Week posted here.

Once I got into the studio on Friday morning and did my meditation and 15-minute writing sessions, I transferred the files I needed to print to a separate USB and printed them off. I tried to use my regular USB, but the printer can’t read within folders. So I’m glad I tossed the extra into my cosmetic bag of flash drives, and had a clean one just for things to print.

I printed out our collaborative poem flyer, the programs, and the book price and tracking sheets. I wanted to get all of that done for the next day’s reading, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it at the last minute.

Then, I printed out pages of CONSEQUENCE and I WILL BE DIFFERENT, the two projects I wanted to work on first. I managed to get all that done by just a little after 8:30, which made me feel more settled.

Studio set up for writing and sewing. Photo by Devon Ellington

I read through CONSEQUENCE (I wrote about 30 pages, pre-residency). There are a couple of different ways I could go. I have to ponder in which direction I want to take it. I’m still not sure there’s enough there for a full-length, which is a problem, since I need something full-length to aim at the theatre who asked for one by their November 1 deadline. It makes me wonder if I should switch to CONNECTION, but I don’t want to leave CONSEQUENCE unfinished.

I re-read through what I have for the Milly section and the Amanda section of I WILL BE DIFFERENT. I think I might try to finish the Amanda section and start the Joy section. That leaves Alice (Milly’s mother, who actually has some great scenes in the Amanda section), and write the Mildred section last, even though it’s first in the chronology of the play, later this month/year.

I had to get a book review out, too, but got that out of the way mid-morning. It was not a genre I generally read, but I did the best I could with it. I put aside my personal feelings on the genre and focused on the strength of the writing and the way it engaged.

Played with some ideas in longhand, the start of explorations for the next sections of the plays.

Before I knew it, it was lunchtime!

I browsed in the gift shop for a few minutes, and then we all found each other, picked up our lunch boxes, and went outside to eat, because it was such a pretty day. We chatted and hung out. After lunch, I went back to the apartment to pick up a few things, like my toothbrush. I walked across the street carrying my toothbrush case and some makeup brushes and ran into an artist I knew who teased me about a very strange walk of shame!

Had trouble settling into the hour and change before the workshop meeting. It wasn’t enough time to get any substantial writing done, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to read. I spent some time on the acupressure mat, which was a good thing.

The workshop was a lot of fun, and the talent in that room makes me so happy and grateful to be a part of it. I did not bring anything to workshop on Friday. I listened and commented on other poets’ work. Even the dark poems have a lot of fierce joy in them, and I love that.

I headed home after on foot, stopping by Golden Bamboo to pick up Chinese food. I ran into a couple of people headed in for First Friday as I headed home. My mom was doing well. It’s good for her to have a few days of independence now and again. The cats were happy to see me, especially Bea.

After we ate, I headed back downtown to First Friday. I dashed down to FutureLabs, just in time for the talk by the two artists whose work is displayed this month. It’s really intriguing work. One artist made the paper she used by hand, and then painted on it – some of the paper was made from the garlic stems she’d help grow in the community garden, and on it, she created paintings about the process of planting the garden. The other artist does a series of robotic paintings. and he does them by painting with his fingers, rather than brushes. The gallery owner encouraged me to make an announcement about the reading at the library, which was so generous. She also really liked the proposal I sent about the upcoming shows, and will have my key to the gallery made up.

On the way back, I ran into some of my fellow poets, who were wandering around, enjoying First Friday. Yay! I love it when people who don’t live here can see how much fun we have.

Locals really want this to be a vibrant town, and love welcoming visitors.

Home baked the mini banana muffins. They came out pretty well, in spite the oven being inconsistent lately. I threw a few tee shirts into my bag, since it was supposed to get into the 80’s over the weekend, and I packed sweaters for the week. I checked the bags with the things we needed for the reading. I packed the muffins.

I actually slept really well (with Charlotte stretched out against my spine, purring). I woke up at 3, then dozed off again and had weird dreams, getting up around 5:30. While I’d hoped to be at the studio by 6, the world was not going to end if I was there by 7 instead.

I fed the cats, took my shower, risked putting curling cream in my hair (with the rising temperatures, it’s always a risk), made breakfast (scrambled eggs instead of the fried egg sandwich I usually do on residency mornings), packed up the food, said goodbye to the cats, and loaded the car. Tessa gave me instructions until the final time I shut the door.

I was in my studio a little before 7. It was lovely and quiet. I was still the first one there. I put up the suncatchers I brought from home. The pole beside my desk has two large screws in it, and I knew I would impale myself on them if I didn’t put something pretty there. I checked over the programs, paperwork, and ran through my own three poems for the reading. As weird as “The Grief Weather Tangerine” is, I really like it.

I had three false starts on poems. I hit a certain point on each and realized I’ve written this before, and better. Which is frustrating.

I did a little bit of research on the Queen Anne era and how prolific women playwrights were at the end of the 1600’s into the early 1700’s. According to the introduction of LOVE AND THUNDER, which is a collection of plays by women from the time (including Susanna Centlivre), “during the time of Anne, outright misogyny was tantamount to treason.” Wouldn’t it be nice if that was still the case, instead of the current encouragement of misogyny?

Headed up to the library, early of course. I wasn’t even the first one there! The third floor of the library was a wonderful space for us. It felt airy and intimate simultaneously. We set up the snack table and the book table and the chairs. Got the programs and the collective poem written for North Adams on the chairs. Chatted and generally got settled before the reading.

The reading went well, and was a lot of fun. There was snacking and chatting after. We put together a plate of goodies for the desk downstairs, cleared up, and were out by the time the library closed.

My fellow poets helped me load the car. I drove back down to the studio, resorted bags as to what was going over to the apartment for us to snack on for the rest of the residency, and what needed to go back home.

I paused to eat lunch with the collective. It was warm enough to eat outside again. In fact, I changed into a tee shirt because it was so hot. I had the roast beef for lunch, thinking it would be a good choice since I was feeling run down. But by mid-afternoon, I was reminded that red meat is rarely my friend.

Took things home, dropped off the car in the home lot, checked on my mom and the cats.

Walked back down to the studio, packed up what I needed for the apartment, and went over to the apartment to take a rest. I’ve been pushing hard on my deadlines since September with the ghostwriting client (last three projects on tighter than normal timelines), and the short story deadlines, and making sure things were set for the reading. Fatigue was to be expected.

I sort of dozed off and on for the rest of the afternoon. Read a little, dozed a little, read a little. There was a point where I realized how lovely and sunny it was in the livingroom, so I moved onto the couch there. Started playing with the idea for a poem that’s one thing on the surface with something else going on underneath.

My flatmate returned after the workshop, and we chatted for a bit and got ready for dinner.

Dinner was in Williamstown, at the Water Street Grill. I’d never eaten there before, but heard good things about it. I didn’t expect it to be as tavern-y as it was. It reminded me of Freight Yard Pub here in North Adams, in some respects. The food was good (I had fish tacos). The wine I chose was not a good choice. I should have gone with a beer. I’ll know next time!

Home, we all hung out together for a bit, my flatmate and I sat up talking a bit longer.

I set my alarm, in case I overslept, and I slept well. Weird dreams, which fled as soon as I woke up.

Woke up before the alarm, at my usual waking-up time. I tried to be quiet getting sorted out for the day, making breakfast, doing dishes. I swear one can hear that coffee maker all the way to Peoria.

And then, of course, I left my travel mug of coffee next to the sink!

I love getting into the studio early. I mean, there’s always someone working in one of the permanent studios, the museum’s security staff is lovely, and the space just feels safe and welcoming, especially without the public!

I did my morning meditation and my 15-minute writing session. Sunday was Day 45, halfway through the 90-day experiment. I played with my poem idea some more, and looked back at one of the ones I rejected yesterday, finding a kernel of potential in it. I played with it for a bit, and with another idea I had in the workshop on Friday.

I got several drafts of one poem done, well enough that I feel good about taking it to workshop. The title, which is what spurred the poem in the first place, no longer fits. The poem’s gone in a different direction.

I wandered the museum for a bit. I did my pilgrimage to the Boiler House and took some more photos. I might do a piece for one of the FutureLabs exhibits on striking images from the Boiler House that tell a story, three photos with three poems that can stand separately, but together add up to something more than the sum of its parts.

I sat with the Anselm Keifer pieces a bit, which are just so disturbing, I don’t know where to start to create poems or stories with them. They are so self-sufficient. What more can I say about them, except to explore the impact they have on me?

A fellow poet was in the exhibit, trying to write a poem, and said she’s been trying for the 10 years she’s been coming to the residency to do so, and hasn’t found the way in yet.

My camera was acting up, and I can’t figure out why. I sat at one of the picnic tables and my flatmate arrived. She was on her way to Boiler House, and then we wandered a bit, hoping to see Randi Malkin Steinberger’s “Archive of Lost Memories” which I loved so much when I saw it in summer. But it wasn’t open yet.

Back to the studio. I have wall space here, so I did some legs-up-the-wall pose to counter walking on concrete.

Picked up my lunch and ate it at the studio, reading Iris Woolcock’s book THE ROAD NORTH. Iris is one of my Playland Painters. She is the one who rented a room in the Greenwich Village brownstone owned by an Italian immigrant, his wife, their teenaged daughter and young son, with other lodgers being a young actor and two female journalists. Talk about a sitcom in the making! She lived in Vermont, not too far away from here, was a photographer and painter, even painting the official portrait of one of Vermont’s governors. Twice divorced, in 1947-48, she bought a trailer and drove the newly paved Alaska Highway with her cat. The entire trip was about 12,000 miles, since she began it in Florida.

The book is hilarious. She is the kind of person I would have loved to have as a friend. She’s such a good writer, with a wry sense of humor, a sense of adventure, and a clear-sightedness to the joys and foibles along the way.

Once I finished my lunch, I joined my fellow poets at the Fall Foliage Parade. Groups from all over the Berkshires are invited. There were many more organizations involved this year than in previous years, and it was so much fun. The marchers had fun, the audience had fun, it was a hot, sunny day. An all-around good time, and I’m really glad I went.

Charlotte fully believes the parade is in her honor, so I’m sure she had a lot to see, as they de-staged going past the apartment.

Back to the studio. Pinned up the fabric swatches, and got a solid idea of how I want to approach “Vast”, the piece I plan to create for the January show at FutureLabs. (Yes, that’s the one I hope doesn’t turn out to look like a giant potholder). None of the swatches I have will work for it, but at least I have more of an idea of what I’m looking for.

I set out the large “Human Compass” quilt top. I haven’t yet run a new bobbin, which I need to do before I pin and stitch.

I had hoped to do some stitching on Sunday, but went to the parade instead. I have no regrets.

The workshop was fun. As always, the poems ranged widely. I got lots of feedback on my poem, which I have to go through and figure out how to integrate. And there are options for titles now, far better than the ones I struggled to try and figure out.

We dropped off our stuff at the apartment, and then walked up to Nara Sushi for dinner. There were only four of us, out of the ten. The rest opted to stay home and eat leftovers from their previous meals I had rolls: Alaska roll (in honor of Iris) with salmon and avocado; yellowtail and scallion; eel and avocado. The wine was awful; I need to remember to only order beer there. But it was fun.

We wandered back. The moon over the city was gorgeous. Poets drifted over to the apartment to chat for a while. My flatmate and I stayed up and talked more, then headed off to bed

I woke up once in the night, but went straight back to sleep, and needed the alarm to hoist myself out of bed at 6. Still, I was at the studio before 7. Morning meditation, trying to get settled in my day. Once this is posted, I will do my 15-minute writing session, and then delve into the morning’s writing. I hope to do some stitching either late in the morning, or between lunch and the workshop session.

I can’t believe how fast the time is going!

Have a good one!

Published in: on October 6, 2025 at 6:45 am  Comments (3)  
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Wed. Oct. 1, 2025: Burning the Midnight Oil. Literally.

image courtesy of Hans Benn via pixabay.com

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Waxing Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Sunny and cool

And now it’s October!

It always feels weird to me when a new month starts in the middle of the week. I don’t know whether I am coming or going.

They put out a frost warning for tonight. I will check later, and see if I need to take in any plants.

I did some follow-up yesterday morning from the various meetings. I worked the tyburn poem a bit, and now I think it’s where I want it (or at least close enough for the moment). I will close my section of Saturday’s reading with it. I’m starting with a surrealist poem, moving to a naturalistic poem, and ending with a tyburn.

I forgot to mention that yesterday’s 15-minute writing session was the 40th day. It was a good one, albeit a lot of visual art planning. Which means today was Day 41! Soon, I will be at the halfway point of this experiment.

The whole day was about the ghostwriting. I dug in and dug in and dug in. I took a short break for lunch. I took the hour-and-a-half break for the WAM literary committee meeting, which was terrific as always. I took a short break for dinner.

I worked until shortly after midnight, when my brain couldn’t function anymore, and hit the goal for the night. I still have a lot to do today, but hopefully, I won’t have to stay up until after midnight.

I worked longer than the government did!

Yes, there is a government shutdown. It’s all on the Republicans. I mean, we haven’t had a properly functioning government since January, but it’s gotten steadily, intentionally worse. The self-righteous stupidity around what is going on is off the charts.

Oh, and the COVID test was negative, yay, and that’s all sorted with the Studios.

Not much to say today. The 15-minute writing session was scattered. My brain is tired, but I have to rev up. I have a short story to get out the door and some errands to run this morning, before digging into the ghostwriting again.  And, of course, the Sidewalk Chewing Demons are around today, with noise off the charts.

I typed up the daily sheets for my mom (since I won’t be here to do the whiteboard) and I will print them off and set them up for her. Hopefully, she remembers to get rid of each day’s sheet and look at the new one.

I just have to deal with each thing as it comes up today. I still have to go through my work bag for tomorrow, deciding which projects I’m bringing in, and packing some of the sewing supplies. There are a couple of things I can’t get done before I leave that I will have to take with me and finish on Friday.

It will all get done, in spite of the obstacles like the Sidewalk Chewing Demons.

At least working late at night is a bit quieter, although they were doing some digging a few blocks away (another water main break, perchance?) that I could faintly hear.

I just need to get through today and tomorrow morning, and then I am in-studio and can take a nap before I start work!

Have a good one!

Published in: on October 1, 2025 at 6:58 am  Comments (2)  
Tags: , , ,
« Older Entries
Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started