Winter Dispatch from South-of-the-River

Reader, I was glad to see that even cyberspace took a little break for Thanksgiving.  At least, that's how it appeared to me as I pulled my head up out of the sand and peeked at all the blogs and websites I usually read.

But now, here we are.  The leftovers are in the frig (is it just me, or has my frig become Tupperware Capital of the World?), the snow is on the ground, the wind is blowing hard, the mercury is falling.  Winter is upon us.  I am caught a bit off-guard by the cold, digging through bins in the basement for my long johns, thanking the universe for Yak Trax and boots with removable felts (all the better to dry you with, my dear), muttering about how I really need to start my Christmas shopping, and all that.

My writing life took a little hit last week as this virus and that made its way through the ranks.  No drafts.  No real drafting time at all, in fact.  I found myself feeling very expansive about it all, though -- a welcome departure from my usual grumpiness that accompanies lack of writing time.  I just kept telling myself, There is time enough in this life.  There is time enough.  I did manage to send of three packets of my poems out into the world, so that was something at least.

Housebound as I was, I was happy to see that my friend SK dropped a book off for me.  It sat innocently on my kitchen porch, and I saw it out of the corner of my eye as I juggled laundry.  The book was Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson.  After reading the jacket text, I wasn't sure I would like it, but I ended up really liking it.  It's not a difficult book to read, and the characters...... well, they're the kind of characters that, a few days after you've finished the book, you find yourself wondering aloud, I wonder how the Major and Mrs. Ali are doing these days?  It was a perfect book to escape into during the Thanksgiving Holiday.

It dawned on me yesterday, after the Turkey Fog finally wore off, that I'm not reading any poems right now (as in, not reading any particular book of poems).  Must remedy this.

This time of year, I always pull out my Penguin Book of Carols.  It is 414 pages of the history of well-known and not-so-well-known Christmas carols.  I'm not sure why I love this book so much.  Perhaps its because I seem to be predisposed to love all things medieval, with the notable exception of medieval forms of punishment.  If I find anything interesting in my carol reading this year, I'll be sure to let you know.

Reader, happy winter to you.  Stay warm.  Drink some hot tea.  Read a few good books.  And, well, okay, I hate to remind you but....... don't forget your holiday shopping.

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