Enga mellom fjella

How the stone has sat here so long...

...waiting for you to return.

Me:

Almost done with madam, will you talk? a 1955 murder mystery written by Mary Stewart. Light reading but I'm not devouring it. I'm eating it like prized chocolate... one morsel at a time.

Wrote a cento (from lines of each piece) for my chapbook. Have them ordered. Now... to go on-line and edit each one... carefully. Typos aren't always easy to catch before publishing. After? Then they are soooooo obvious.

I'm working on it every day between coffee and reading and...

I'm trying to take my time rather than rush it.

No other news really. Sunny, cold. Ice this morning.

Good thing it's sunny. I could really get depressed (May have a bit of a cold) and curl up for a long winter's nap.

I'm trying to live in the present but much of what will be in the chapbook is looking back. I have to be careful of that past. It's like that stone. Still waiting for me to return.

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