Today Delycia drove up to UConn for her class in Victorian Literature, and I did some writing and split and stacked some firewood. It was a windy, frosty day, but I was breathing hard and perspiring before long. It was wonderful to be working in our own lovely, fairly large yard, with a slight sense of spring in the air. It was cold, but there were new kinds of birdsongs all around, suggesting that some newcomers had come back from the south for the summer.
Tonight we went to the Mystic Arts Cafe to hear one of my former students read his poems, and it was a festive and engaging evening. My student's poems were strong and smooth, and the music by a local band was equally so. Now, just after 9:00, we're easing into sleep with some quiet reading and (for me) some slow sips of Chardonnay.